Page 103 of Wild Card

“Move in with you?” I blink at him because I think those were some of the last words I expected Tobias to say. Even in the heat of the moment.

“To the condo downtown. It can be when your lease is up or sooner if you want. Would be closer to the new museum building.”

“But you’re usually out at the house.”

“We can still go there on the weekends, so I still have a chance to watch you on those ladders in the library. But the condo would be closer during the week. Harper and Xander would just be a few floors away from us. We’d be downtown, so we could go grab food or do things just outside our doorstep. Give me chances to take you out and show off how fucking lucky I am.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“I don’t know how to say no to that, or you. So… okay.” I shrug, surprising even myself when I don’t even feel a whisper of apprehension.

“Fuck yes!” He grins, grabbing me up into his arms as I wrap my legs around him, and he kisses me again. “As soon as we get back?”

“Works for me.” I kiss him softly.

“I love you. I know... I know I keep saying it like some fucking sap, but I never thought I’d feel like this… and I can hardly fucking believe it. I say it half the time just to remind myself it’s real.” His finger slides under my necklace and runs along the underside of the beads there.

“I never thought it could feel like this either.” I kiss his knuckles, and I see the breath he takes, the half grin that plays at his lips.

His arms tighten around me, and I melt into him.

“Now I just have to work on getting that ’s’ off the necklace.” He kisses my forehead.

EPILOGUE

Scarlett

1 month later…

It’s the night of the big museum reopening, and we’re doing it in collaboration with Joss and Harper’s nonprofit. They managed to raise enough money thanks to big donors, Joss’s player photograph books, and a donation drive that’s gotten us thousands of new members who pay a monthly fee to get unlimited visits, lectures, and a yearly behind-the-scenes tour.

Best—and possibly scariest—of all, I’ve been promoted to head curator. This means the director and I are joint masters of ceremonies tonight and the place is packed wall to wall. We actually had to turn some people away which is unheard of for our previously very modest museum. The fact that four of the championship-winning Seattle Phantom players are in attendance tonight doesn’t hurt, and all the press attention we are getting thanks to them and Joss and Harper’s nonprofit means our future looks brighter than ever.

My heart hasn’t felt this full in years, and I don’t even realize how tired I am until we’re well into the late hours of the event. I’m walking across the floor looking around for any sign of one of the caterers who might have some food left when a hand reaches out and grabs mine from behind, tugging me gently. I look up, and it’s Tobias.

“Come with me.” He nods.

“I have to go to find that donor Joss wanted me to talk to in a minute. I’m just trying to find some food.”

His fingers lace with mine, tightening his grip.

“Yeah, Spitfire. You’re coming with me first.”

I start to protest but relent when I see his eyebrow raise. I know it means I’ll be in for trouble when we get home if I don’t listen.

“Where are you taking me?” I ask as I follow.

“Your office.”

“What’s in my office?”

“Sustenance and a few minutes of rest. I already told Joss I was stealing you for a bit, and she said she’d cover in your absence, and Harper can do the curator emeritus thing until you get food. So don’t worry, okay?”

“Okay.” I can’t help the little grin that forms.

We slip into my office mostly unnoticed, and he locks the door behind us. There’s a plate of food—with a little of everything that has long since disappeared from the catering trays—and water and wine waiting for me.