Page 88 of Stud

Our hearts were pressed close, pounding out our apologies. “Can we kiss now?”

His rumbling chuckle vibrated through me. Angling his head down, his hungry lips went to work, coaxing mine open. His breath was hot, our mouths and tongues moving in sync. Everything about him felt right, destined. He tasted like goodness and loyalty and the type of man you fought for. Our level of PDA shot from mild to arrest worthy.

Panting, my construction hunk pulled away. “Come sit for sec.”

“But the kissing?”

He licked his lips. “Doll, we’re not done with the kissing, but we need to talk.”

Ignoring my grumbles, Owen led me to our picnic table. He straddled the bench and had me sit opposite him, our bent knees touching. “I really am sorry, Ainsley. As much as I’m dying to make out and get you home, I need you to hear me, believe me. Giving up on us was the wrong choice.”

Such simple words, the candor behind them a balm to my healing wounds. I pushed my fingers into the front of his thick hair, letting my hands drag over his scalp, down the back of his neck and shoulders, coming to rest on his firm chest. “I know you are, but this is on me. I assumed the worst. Even though I knew you’d never cheat on me, I couldn’t stop my mind from going there. Never again, though. I trust you.” I pulled my necklace from under my cashmere sweater and placed the weight of it against my thudding heart. “I love you.”

His forehead crumpled, emotion gathering in his eyes. He touched the glass, a gentle slide of his fingers down the pendant, then he gripped my ass and hauled me onto his lap. I linked my legs around his back.

“I love you,” he whispered. A bruising kiss followed, leaving me breathless. “So damn much.”

I needed more, those three words over and over. “Say it again.”

Tugging me closer, he nosed my cheek. “So damn much.”

I swatted his thick bicep. “Not that part, smartass.”

“Oh. Okay.” He nodded, a playful grin spreading. “I think I know what you’re after.” Reverently, he cupped my cheeks. “I”—he nipped to my earlobe—“love”—he dragged his lips along my jaw—“you”—he covered my face with a thousand soft kisses.

I sighed. “That’s better.” The urge to shred his clothing lessened, those words and his strong arms my perfect salve. I snuggled in closer. “My website is live.”

“I’m so proud of you,” he said into my hair. “I have no doubt you’ll succeed.”

I sure hoped so. “I’ll advertise at gyms and salons, places women go when stressed. Tap into my target market like we discussed. I still have a few key clients who’ll keep me afloat, but I fired the rest. It’s a risk, but I’m happier for it.” Like I was happier for allowing myself to find love.

He drew lazy patterns on my back. “I nearly finished that second maple table this week. Barely slept.”

Guilt bloomed. “I’m sick that I left you, especially after what she did.” She Who Must Not Be Named. “Can we throw her in jail? Send her on the first trip to Mars?”

“Unlikely. And it doesn’t matter. She doesn’t matter. She’s done her worst, and we survived. But…” His hands paused their intimate strokes. “I have something to ask you. It might freak you out, and I want you to understand it’s not something I want now, but it was an issue for me in the past. So I think I need to be clear about it this time, with you.”

That didn’t sound good. His heavy exhale when I leaned back to gauge his weighted expression didn’t inspire confidence, either. “Consider me freaking out.”

His attention shifted past me, to the jungle gym. It wasn’t busy—a couple of tykes mucked about on the slide. “I want kids, Ainsley. Not anytime soon, but what we have is far from casual, and I can’t get serious with someone without making that clear.”

He wants kids. Kids with me, one day. How could I have questioned his fidelity? Believed, even for a second, his love wasn’t true?

Awash with relief, I laughed. Giddy delight rolled through my belly in an uncontrollable wave. Owen caught my crazy, both of us laughing at absolutely nothing. Finally, I wiped my eyes. “We’ll have ten, if that’s what you want. They’ll be stylish and read smarty-pants books, and…oh, the dancing. Two will be ballet stars, one will do the Hip Hop video circuit, and the rest will take the Broadway and ballroom worlds by storm. They’ll make a reality TV series about us.”

He wasn’t laughing any longer. He pressed his forehead to mine. “I love you, Ainsley.”

I bit my lip. “I love you so much.”

There was no describing this thick swelling in my heart. I wouldn’t want to, anyway. It was private. A slice of paradise just for us.

I inched my hands down his pecs, over the wonderland of his abs, to his waistband. I traced the ridge of his belt toward his back and dipped my hands inside his briefs, grazing the top of his fine behind. “To prove my valor, I plan to torture Emmett until he tells me what your tattoo means, then I’ll torture you with the knowledge. Use it to demand sexual favors.”

“How does messing with my mind prove your valor?”

“Just go with it.”

He unleashed an impish smirk. “He told me, this week.”