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Just watches me.
“You okay?” I ask.
His expression shifts.
“Yeah.”
“Really?”
“Tyler’s in custody. Sheriff’s got his confession. Your bakery’s getting repaired.” He brushes a strand of hair behind my ear. “For the first time in a long fucking time, I think I might actually be okay.”
I smile.
“Good.”
He studies me.
“You’re not going to tell me how proud you are?”
“I was saving that for after you carried me upstairs.”
His eyebrows rise.
“That so?”
“Thought I’d give you some incentive.”
“Sweetheart, you have no idea how much incentive I’ve got.”
Before I can respond, he scoops me into his arms.
I shriek.
“Grayson!”
“What?”
“Put me down!”
“Changed your mind?”
“About being carried? No. About the possibility of you dropping me down a flight of stairs? Slightly.”
He starts climbing.
“Trust me.”
“I do trust you. I just don’t trust your knees.”
“Keep talking, Pumpkin.”
“Or what?”
He stops halfway up the staircase.
“Or I’m going to kiss you right here, and we’ll never make it to the bedroom.”
I wrap my arms around his neck.
