My arms clutch him now, wrapping around him and holding him tight.
“I missed you too,” I whisper into his chest.
“You’re going to burn,” he says and leads me into the bedroom. He lies next to me on my bed, turning us so we’re facing each other, and I can’t help the tears that spring to my eyes. “Don’t cry.”
“I thought you’d—”
“If I’d known you’d thought that, I would have called and told you differently right away. I had no idea. I’m so sorry.”
I shake my head and close my eyes, then lean in and press my lips to his lightly. His hand drifts down my side to my hip, and he lets me take the lead, nibbling his lips, kissing his cheek. I pull my fingertips down his chin as his hand makes its way up my shirt.
“I missed your skin,” he whispers.
“I might have missed your abs,” I reply softly.
He raises a brow. “Might have?” He pushes me onto my back and unfastens the buttons on my shirt, nudges it aside and kisses my chest, over to my already puckered nipple, pulling it into his mouth through my bra.
“Probably.” My hand drifts down his back to his butt. “And this too.”
He chuckles and works his way down my stomach. “I think we should make a list. The first on mine is this sexy as hell piercing.”
“A list of things I love about you?” I ask with a giggle. He raises his head, his eyes wide, and pushes back up to look me in the eye.
“Do you love me, Kate?”
“I love you very much,” I reply sincerely. “All of you.”
His eyes close and he tips his forehead against mine, then sends me that sexy, naughty grin of his. “Let’s make those lists.”
***
Two Weeks Later…
“I would have hired people to unpack your things,” Eli says, as he wraps his arms around me from behind and kisses my cheek.
“That’s silly,” I reply, and hang the last blouse in the closet. “Besides, the thought of having strangers touch my clothes and underwear is not appealing.”
“Well, when you put it like that,” he agrees with a smile, and turns me to face him. He kisses me softly. “Welcome home, cher.”
“Thank you.” I smile widely, happy to be here in our townhome in the French Quarter. “I love this place.”
“I love you.”
I smile up at him. “I know.”
He swallows and cups my cheek in his hand. “Kate, Rhys told me about the baby you lost, and I’ve been meaning to find the right moment to tell you that I’m so very sorry for your loss.”
I feel tears fill my eyes, but his words are a balm to my heart. “Thank you.”
He kisses me softly, gently, his thumbs making circles on my cheeks, and I can’t help but hope that there will be other babies.
Lots of babies.
“Is the family here?” I ask.
“We are.” Eli’s mama’s voice comes from the bedroom, and when we step out of the closet, she’s smiling widely. “Hello, sweet girl.”
“I’m so glad you all came for dinner.” I hug the petite woman before walking toward the door.
Just before I leave the room, I hear her say, “Your daddy would be so proud of you, Eli.”
I grin and leave them alone, joining the others in the kitchen.
“Are you really living with Uncle Eli now, Miss Kate?” Sam asks excitedly.
“I am.” I smile at the sweet little boy and smooth his unruly hair down, then snatch a fried potato out of a serving tray that the caterers brought.
Eli had this gathering catered. He didn’t want me to have to deal with cooking dinner and unpacking my things.
God, I love that man.
“Are you okay?” Eli asks, as he wraps me in his arms and hugs me tightly, joining us in the kitchen.
“Why wouldn’t she be okay?” Beau asks, as he uncovers the shrimp gumbo. “She doesn’t start work until Monday, so you haven’t had a chance to be a hard ass with her yet.”
“How did your boss take it when you quit?” Van asks.
“He was fine when I explained that I didn’t want to travel around so much, and that Bayou Enterprises offered me a position.”
“I don’t want to think about the positions Eli offers you,” Charly grumbles, earning a glare from her mother.
Eli simply raises an eyebrow at me, a half-smile on his sexy lips.
“I’m great.”
“You’re amazing,” he whispers in my ear. “And all mine.”
I smile up at him, in the middle of the hustle and bustle of his family, laughing and talking, in our home, and know that I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.
“All yours.”
Epilogue
Three Months Later…
Rhys O’Shaughnessy
“It’s fine,” I insist with a growl, glaring at the doctor. My coach, team physician, even the fucking owner of the team are all here in this meeting. “I can play.”
“No, you can’t,” the doctor insists grimly. “You’ll tear that rotator cuff again in a heartbeat.”
“I’ve done the therapy,” I insist. “I’ve done everything you’ve told me to.”
“Yes, you have. Rhys, you and I both know that this happens to players every day.”
“Not to me.” I lean forward. “Not. To. Me.”
“He’s not saying you’re out for good,” Reggie, my coach reminds me. “You’re just out for the season, and it’s almost over anyway.”
I’m staring at the doctor, who’s looking back at me with tired, sad eyes. He and I both know the truth: the chances of me coming back are slim.
“What do I need to do?” I ask.
“Keep doing what you’re doing. Keep up with the PT, get it worked over by a massage therapist regularly to keep the muscles supple. Exercise.” He spreads his hands wide, as if to say, what else can I say?
“I’ll be back next season,” I promise the room, and I can’t help but wonder who I’m trying so hard to convince, me or them?
“And we’ll be excited to have you back,” Mr. Lyon, the owner, replies. “Get yourself well, Rhys. That’s the most important thing.”
We all leave the boardroom, and I walk briskly to my car, anxious to get out of here. Summer is hanging onto Chicago like a pit bull with a bone. It’s fucking hot.
I take off down the interstate, ready to be back in Denver, wishing Kate would be there to talk to. And, at just the thought of her, I know I need to hear her voice.