Page 93 of Guarding Colton’s Witness
“Of course, I want to see what my new nephew looks like. And then I need to go.”
While Matti took her sister to Sam’s room, Ryan went in the kitchen and poured two glasses of wine. He and Matti had some celebrating to do.
Chapter 39
“What changed your mind about me being a doctor?”
Matti took a sip of her wine while thinking how to answer. They were sitting on the couch, their bodies aligned and pressed together. The TV was turned to a soft-music channel, and one of her legs was over his. She loved touching him.
“It was something my mother said that made me think.”
“What was that?”
“We talked about her marriage to my father, and she told me that she would marry him all over again, even knowing what she knew now. She said she’d always love him and said some other stuff that I hadn’t considered. But what truly got me to thinking was something she said. That you’re my person and everyone could see that but me.”
Ryan was quiet for a beat, and when Matti dared to glance at him, his eyes were on her, soft, searching, like he couldn’t quite believe what he’d just heard.
“She said that?”
Matti nodded, her fingers tracing a slow circle on his thigh. “I’ve been so afraid of making the wrong choice. Of getting it wrong like they did. But then I thought…maybe the mistake isn’t in the choosing. Maybe it’s in not choosing at all.”
Ryan’s hand slid around the back of her neck, his thumb brushing her jaw. “So, you’re choosing me?”
“I already did,” she whispered. “It just took me a while to admit it to myself.”
He kissed her then, not rushed or desperate, but like a promise. Like he understood what it meant for her to say those words. When he finally pulled back, he rested his forehead against hers. “I think I owe your mother flowers or a box of chocolate or something.”
She laughed, leaned in, and kissed him again. “My bed missed you.”
“Yeah?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Then I suggest I go reacquaint myself with your bed.”
“Ours now.” And oh, that sweet smile when she said that.
“I like that. Very much.” He stood and held out his hand.
She slipped her hand into his, letting him pull her to her feet. His hand didn’t leave hers as they walked toward the bedroom, and her heart thudded, each beat a mix of anticipation and quiet certainty.
Inside the room, moonlight filtered through the blinds, casting pale silver ribbons across the floor and the edge of the bed where he paused. She reached for the hem of her shirt, but he caught her wrists. “Let me,” he said softly. As he undressed her piece by piece, his gaze never wavered, never rushed, every movement deliberate, every touch an unspoken vow.
When it was his turn, she returned the favor. Her eyes traced every inch of his bare chest, down to the arrow of hair disappearing into his jeans. So sexy. He wasn’t heavily muscled. He was all smooth lines and lean strength, a runner’s grace wrapped in pure male confidence. He was beautiful. And he was hers.
“You keep staring at me like that and I’m going to start thinking you want something,” he said, his voice low and rough, teasing.
She did. God, she did.
Him. That was what she wanted.
“I love you,” she whispered, because she hadn’t told him that yet and couldn’t hold it in any longer. “I think I’ve loved you for a while now. I just needed to catch up to it.”
His eyes darkened, not with surprise, but with the kind of emotion that made her breath hitch. His hand slid to her waist, pulling her flush against him. Skin to skin. Heat to heat. That steady, smoldering gaze had her heart tripping and her thighs clenching. There was intent in his eyes, wicked and knowing.
“Good,” he murmured against her mouth. “Because I’m not going anywhere.”
Then he kissed her, slow, sensual, and devastating. She melted into him, hands sliding up to the nape of his neck, fingers tangling in his hair. His skin was hot against hers, his body solid and strong. He cupped her waist, then the swell of her hips, pulling her tight against him, their bare chests pressed together. The friction sparked something deep in her belly.
