Page 46

He dropped his head back, staring through the glass ceiling like answers might be scrawled across the ebony sky. “And Dix, geez, I’ve never seen the guy more excited. Not even when our first travel shots landed in the Times .”

Fontana fumbled to put the pieces together, because he was moving so delicately, like she was fragile, breakable, something he had to handle with extreme care. After the past two days, she could hardly blame him. Even if all she wanted was to rip his clothes off and make him forget his own name.

As he’d promised—if only with his eyes—every time he looked at her.

“So…you want to date? Is that what this is about?” She scratched at her bandage, the wound itching like a beast. “Confirm it officially. Citizens of Promise: we’re a couple.

” Everyone in town already knew. But if saying it out loud eased that troubled look he got when he thought she wasn’t watching, she’d do it.

They could make it public and see where it led, this thing of theirs.

He eyed her injured arm, a frown cutting across his cheeks. There it was again—that flicker of distress. “Swear you’ll never tell Dix how this went down. He’ll kill me. I brought you to my favorite place and everything.”

“Atlanta, I?—”

He came up quickly, rummaging through his bag before dropping to his knee beside her.

His gaze locked on hers—scorching, steady—all that layered intensity Campbell always carried, now fixed solely on her.

A buttery-yellow velvet box, worn and soft as the quilt beneath them, rested in his palm.

“I don’t want to date, love of my life. I want to get married . ”

Her lips parted, thoughts tumbling. “Oh, um, I don’t…”

Campbell slipped the ring on her finger and settled back on his heels, grinning at the perfect fit.

Fontana flexed her hand, watching candlelight dance off a sapphire sitting fat and sassy at the center of a circle of equally stunning diamonds.

It was the most incredible piece of jewelry she’d ever seen.

“My great-grandmother’s. The stones in the band are art deco, 1920 or so.

I always loved this ring.” His gaze drifted, then found her again.

“I don’t know why exactly. Then I met you, and I couldn’t stop thinking about it on your finger.

Your eyes, I guess. They hit that shade sometimes.

” Another of those delightful blushes lit his cheeks, and she wondered when, exactly, her eyes ever hit that shade .

“I’ve had it bouncing around in my coat pocket, the darkroom, the truck, which is asinine, I realize, for weeks. ”

“Campbell, I?—”

He sighed, his shoulders dropping. “So, you’re going to Campbell me, huh?”

“Cam, I?—”

He laughed and pulled her against his chest, careful with her arm. His lips swept along her jaw, landing on that sweet spot at the curve of her neck and shoulder, the one he knew, he knew , fired the starting gun on the race to an orgasm. “You slay me, woman. You truly do.”

She laughed, too, helpless, caught up in the joy of the moment. Could the man do nothing by the book, ever? “Stop. Cam, stop .”

“That a yes?” he whispered, sucking skin between his teeth to make sure the question landed.

She moaned, tilting her head to give him better access. “There wasn’t a question, you silly fool.”

He drew back, eyes glistening, his gaze hot at the edges, the way it got when he was losing himself in her. She nearly melted right there, a puddle on the heart pine planks of his beloved warehouse.

A proposal from this incredible, devastating, brilliantly complicated man.

On the boombox, Etta James sang about a Sunday kind of love, a moment Fontana would forever after consider meant to be.

Campbell grasped her hands, but his head dropped, his shyness telling her everything before his words undid her.

“My life was soulless before I met you. I was stumbling through. Career stuff, sure, going well. Everything else—” He drew her closer, his scent drifting over her, scattering her pulse.

“I’m not there all the way yet, but you’ve brought me back to life.

To Promise. My family, the mill, the Rise. I want to take it. I want it all .”

He swallowed, lifted his gaze, eyes shining. “I love you more than you can imagine, and I want you there beside me. I need you there.”

Fontana cupped his jaw and pressed her cheek to his.

“You helped me trust again. Opened my heart. My childhood—I don’t know—I wasn’t able to…

I didn’t know myself.” She laughed softly, gesturing to the candlelit space around them.

“Not like this. I love you, too, Campbell Loman. I can’t remember when I didn’t.

Actually, I don’t care to remember when I didn’t.

You and Kit, Hannah and Jaime, Dix, you’re my world.

I was only so scared because I could see my world slipping away. ”

“I thought you did. The love thing. I hoped, but I wasn’t sure.

” He rubbed the back of his neck, his sigh long and heavy.

“I’m sorry it took me a while to figure this out, figure us out.

Accept it. Whatever was wrong with me. How I acted in your hospital room, I’m an ass, okay?

I know I’m not perfect. It’s not perfect, not like Etta’s lyrics, but I want to get off the lonely road.

You make me feel invincible, like the universe is open to me, to us.

Like I can come back, reclaim my family, my life.

Like it’ll work out. If you can only find it in yourself to…

” His voice cracked as he laid her back on the quilt, his body flowing over hers.

“Share it with me. Your past. Everything, Fon. Everything . No holding back. ”

“I can do that.”

“Do something else. Marry me.”

“Yes,” she murmured as his lips captured hers.

He pulled back just enough for a sliver of air to cut between them. “Yes?”

She removed his glasses and placed them carefully by her side.

Then she shifted her hips until his rock-hard length settled perfectly against her.

His eyes went smoky and a ragged moan drifted from one of them, she wasn’t sure who.

“One proviso to happiest proposal ever. That thing you do with your fingers, the little curl inside me? It would go perfectly with apple juice, diamonds, and Etta.”

“And you can show me again how you fold up like a map. Man, did I like that.” His lids drifted as his hand coasted over her—breast, belly, the curve of her hip.

Zipper down, fingers working inside denim.

His eyes widened, breath catching. “Commando? Oh, this is a night to remember. I may not make it to the performance.”

She gave a sly shrug. “Whoever packed forgot panties. And a bra.”

“At this moment, I love Jaime more than I can say.”

“Let’s not waste his effort,” she gasped, arching off the quilt as he did the finger curl once, twice, then slipped another inside her. Her hand fisted in his sweater and held tight, much like her body did. “ Yes . Right… there .”

Arms full of her, his lips were a wicked whisper down her body.

One nimble button at a time, her shirt fell open in a slow spill.

Sidetracked by her nipples—his fascination—he tugged one, then the other, between his teeth.

Gentle bites. Soothing. Urging. The stubble on his jaw scraped the rounded edge of her breast.

Pinned by his weight, he moved with care, guiding her until she melted beneath him, the only unrest the need bubbling like a spring beneath her skin.

Her fingers tangled in his hair as his mouth tracked the line of her hip.

Without pausing, he peeled her jeans from her body.

“If you go there, Cam, I won’t last long. ”

He glanced up the plane of her body, eyes stormy with desire, a damp sheen on his cheeks. Nipping the inside of her thigh, he then licked to soothe.

Sexy, sexy, sexy was all that raced through her mind.

“Hmm. Coming quickly,” he whispered, his voice as tattered as the quilt beneath them. “And that’s bad, why ?”

Agreed , she decided as her thoughts scattered, her body dissolved. Her gaze fixed on the glass ceiling, the wash of stars in the dusky sky blinking back at her. This was her view until she faded, unable to keep her eyes open.

His assault was convincing, when she didn’t need convincing.

Fingers twisting inside her while he toyed with her clit.

Finesse. Restraint. A dance. One so skilled he brought her to the brink and back again, until she writhed beneath him, begging with raised hips, her words reduced to moans and breathless exhalations she couldn’t hold back.

He couldn’t either. He tunneled an arm beneath her, lifting, pulling her harder against his mouth, adjusting the angle, just enough to give her a two-second warning.

She tried to tell him— close … now— as her thighs clenched around his head.

Deep, deeper, the sensation rose and swept through her. A tightly held hunger, then an incredible release. Campbell didn’t let up until her climax had dissolved every measure of reason.

Floating, she blinked to find his gaze locked on her. He looked feral, possessed, whatever control he had left hanging by a gossamer thread. He reached back, pulled his sweater over his head, and tossed it aside, revealing a body that made her mouth water .

“God, those little sounds you make.” His lungs were working like he’d run a race—and lost. “I promise next time will be longer,” he whispered hoarsely.

“Right now, I’ll lose it if I don’t get inside you.

” He shoved his boxers and jeans down in one rough motion, condom and cock in his hand before she could draw another breath.

She hooked a leg around his taut butt and brought him down. Knocking his hand from his shaft, she reached for him—stroking, cupping, squeezing, circling. She knew what he liked and used every last trick. Once he slid inside her, they’d both be lost.

His exhalation scorched her ear. “You’re killing me, Hellcat. Is it on purpose?”

“I just want to catch that drop of moisture before?—”

He growled something that sounded like enough , fit the condom and himself in place, and drove home with one deliberate, blistering thrust.

There were no words after that, only the sound of their bodies coming together and their harsh moans streaking the night.

They moved with desperation, chasing pleasure.

Love . Balance, in a universe that rarely offered it.

She’d never been so connected to another human being, and she knew she never would again.

It was amazing how mindless the journey became, making love without thought, driven entirely by sensation and touch. By heart .

When her orgasm hit, seconds after his release, Fontana had somehow ended up on top.

And they’d managed to work their way completely off the quilt.

Her glass of juice had spilled. Something sharp—a cracker?—was stuck to her knee. Campbell’s hair looked electrified, like he’d stuck a finger in a socket. Sweat peppered his face and neck. A love bite marked his collarbone .

The room was a mess. They were a mess.

She was afraid to tell him, she might’ve popped a stitch.

“We have to argue more often,” she murmured, slumping to his chest, “if this is how it goes after we make up.”

His hands fell away from her. “Count me in. I’m sure we’ll find plenty to argue about.”

She pressed a kiss to his chest, the light dusting of hair tickling her cheek. “First time with the ring. I think it’s good luck.”

A fatigued laugh burst from his lips. “Lucky for fucking?”

“No, silly.” She pinched his waist, then settled against him. “For love.”

Still connected, Campbell shifted so he could gaze into her eyes.

His had gone dark, which meant profound thoughts were coming.

“I don’t need luck. I have you. You have me.

Forever is what I’m asking for. Demanding, I should say.

” He cradled her jaw, tilting her head for a gentle kiss that undid her.

“You said yes. No redos. No changing your mind.”

“I’ll say yes every day for the rest of my life if you ask me.” She’d never meant anything more. He was her future. He was her everything . “I want forever.”

“You got it, Hellcat.” His lids drifted as he cradled her against his chest, his touch and his words telling her he’d never let go. “You and me against the world.”