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“But you already knew most of what there was to know,” I guess and can see on his face that I’m right.

“I understand your anger,” he says. “Hell, I’d be mad, too.”

“I promised you that I wouldn’t be angry or hold your job against you. Of course, I didn’t realize that this was part of that job, but I made the promise all the same, and my reaction that morning wasn’t the caring and supportive person that you need. I’m sorry for that.”

“And I’m sorry that I can’t tell you everything. However, I will say that you now know everything that I knew. I’m not withholding intel that you don’t have. I promise you that.”

“Intel.” I grin at him. “It’s sexy when you sound all smart and stuff.”

His shoulders sag as if he’s incredibly relieved. “Are we going to be okay, Mags?”

I cross to him and wrap my arms around his middle, pressing my ear to his chest.

“We’re good. This past week, I discovered that I missed you more than I was mad at you. And it occurred to me that it makes sense that Joey was being investigated, what with all that money he had hidden away. I hope that you and your cohorts realized that I wasn’t a part of it.”

“We knew that,” he assures me and kisses the top of my head. His hands slide up and down my back. “I missed you, too. I wanted to call you, but I told you we needed a break, so I figured we’d speak when you got home.”

“Stubborn,” I whisper. “Both of us are stubborn.”

Cam tips my chin up and kisses me softly. Gently. And when I slide my hands up under his shirt, he groans.

“Where’s the bedroom?” he asks gruffly.

“Through there.” I gesture with my head toward the back of the house. Suddenly, I’m in Cam’s arms, being carried to the bedroom and tenderly laid on the bed.

Our movements are swift, both of our clothes shed until we’re finally skin to skin.

“I was homesick,” I confess and cup his face in my hand. “But not for Washington. For you, Cam.”

“Baby,” he whispers and kisses my lips, nudging his way between my legs. “I’m right here, my love. I’m not going anywhere. Well, until you do. And I know, I promised this before, and I let you walk away because I was suddenly scared and stupid, and I’m sorry for that. But, I vow to not let either one of us just up and leave at the first damn hurdle. We’re so much better than that.”

I grin and then gasp when he slips inside of me, holds one of my hands over my head, and begins to move in long, steady strokes.

“You’re mine, Mary Margaret.” Those blue eyes are fierce now. “And I’m yours until the day I die.”

Then, words are lost in the sighs and the moans of delight as I’m led back into the light and amazing comfort of being with Cam.

Six months later…

“Good God, there are so many signatures,” I say with a sigh and sign my name for the fortieth time in less than twenty minutes. Maeve and the nice man from the title company both laugh at me.

Cam takes the paper I just signed and does the same next to my name.

“That’s it,” Maeve says and slides keys across the table to us. “It’s all yours.”

“Can we go there now?” I ask as excitement fizzes through me like bubbles in champagne.

“Absolutely, it’s yours,” Maeve says. “Congratulations.”

“Let’s go,” Cam says, and we are all smiles as we get in his car, and he drives us from the middle of town to the cliffs that overlook the ocean. The song that I recorded with Leo comes on the radio, and with a grin, Cam turns up the volume.

This song has been sitting in the top twenty on the charts for the past month. It’s absolutely insane to me. And, I agreed to tour with them on their North American dates later this year, but I don’t want to tour for years on end. That’s just not me.

My home is here, with my family.

“It’s just so pretty,” I breathe as Cam parks in our new driveway and I stare up at the house. “I mean, just look at it. Maeve did a good job with this one.”

I hop out of the car and hurry up the steps of the porch, but Cam says behind me, “Stop. We can’t go in yet.”

I turn and frown at him. “We can’t?”

“Not quite yet.” He joins me, takes my hand, and leads me to the porch swing that wasn’t here yesterday.

“Did you hang this?”

“Your brother and da did,” he confirms. “I know you love your porch swing.”

“I do.” My eyes want to get misty. “That’s the sweetest thing.”

“Have a seat,” he suggests. And when I do, he drops to one knee before me.