“That’s not going to work out.”

Without looking at him, she scraped up the brown bits from the chicken to coat the peppers and onions.

She let them cook while she sliced the chicken. “You’re awfully sure of yourself.”

“I won’t settle for it. I don’t know why you would.”

“Because it’s easy. Keep things on your own terms, within your own limitations, it’s always easy. But you’re right, it’s not working out, not when you look at me and say I’m yours. Not when you say that, I see that, and hit the panic button.”

Time for another shaky breath. “I didn’t think I would, and I have been thinking about it, about you, about all of it. But I did panic, and not because I’m stubborn or stupid, but because while part of me wants it to be easy, the rest of me wants to be yours. Wants you to be mine.”

He said nothing while she started one of her fancy arrangements of the food on a platter.

When he did speak, it was quiet, easy.

“It might’ve been that night when I wanted a drumstick, looked over, and saw you. But I really think it was when you drove up, got out of the car with an armload of red lilies. You had eyes like bluebonnets, like spring in the dead of winter, and a smile that slammed straight into me, blew right through me. And those boots.”

He paused, sipped his beer.

“Those really tall black boots. Man, I hope you still have those boots, because I like to imagine you wearing them and not much else. Anyway.” He drank again while she uncovered bowls of grated cheddar, of sour cream.

“I’m pretty sure it was that moment when the rest of you got what it wants. I never got over it.”

“You didn’t even know me.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.”

Now she blinked at him. He so rarely sounded impatient.

“You hadn’t even seen me in years.”

“I damn well knew you. Through the emails with my mom, through Hugh and Lily, through Aidan and Consuela. I knew when you fell for the dancer, how you studied at NYU, then otherwise, learning all those languages. You’ve been part of my life since I was twelve years old, so deal with it.”

Carefully now, she pulled the tortillas out of the warming oven. “I think that’s the first time I’ve seriously pissed you off.”

“No, it’s not. It won’t be the last either. That doesn’t change a goddamn thing.”

“What if I hadn’t come back?”

“You were always going to come back, but waiting for it was starting to wear some.”

One more breath, and no more panic. “I was always going to come back,” she agreed. “Even when I didn’t know it.” She laid a hand on his cheek. “I’ve got pictures of you, too, Dillon. I’m sorting them out.”

“I told you I came close once, with one woman who mattered to me. But I couldn’t get there. I couldn’t because it was you, Cate. It was always you.”

He set down the beer. “And I’m tired of keeping my distance. That food’ll stay warm enough for later.”

She smiled, expecting him to grab her into a kiss as frustrated as he looked. Instead, he scooped her up as he’d done their first night together.

“Oh. That much later.”

“That’s right.”

“God, I’ve missed this.” She set her teeth on the side of his neck. “I really don’t think I have those boots anymore. It was years ago.”

“That’s a damn shame,” he said as he carried her upstairs.

“But I’m a certified expert at shopping for boots.”

“Black, up above the knee.”

He dropped her on the bed, looked down at her as the light from the sinking sun spread gold over her.

She crooked a finger at him when he dragged off his shoes. When he lay over her, sent her shimmering with the first kiss, she chained her arms around him.

“I love you, Caitlyn.”

So much spilled into her she didn’t know how to hold it. “Give me time to say it back. It may be crazy or superstitious, or both, but I really do believe when I say it, when I mean it, it’s forever.”

“Since I want forever, and forever’s what I’m going to have, take your time.”

“That kind of confidence could be annoying.”

“Be annoyed later.”

He took her mouth again, but tenderly. So tenderly now. Offering love, she knew, and how could she resist it?

She opened herself to it, the simple and stunning gift of it. And opening, taking it in, she felt it smooth over old scars, ease away old doubts.

Take the gift, she thought, take it and give it back. If she couldn’t yet say the words, she could give him what beat in her heart.

She could show him in the language of touch and taste that needed no voice. She could show him by the way she unbuttoned his shirt to skim her fingers over his chest, over those hard-ridged muscles of his back as she peeled the shirt away.

How she rose to him when he drew hers aside, followed the reveal of bare skin with his lips.

The golden light smoldered toward red as they undressed each other. The blue of the sea surging to and from the beach below deepened with it. And he felt her give, and give.

She had so much to give. More than she knew or believed. He’d seen it in her from the very first moment, and in all the moments he’d had with her since. When she trusted herself, trusted them, she’d give him the words.

For now, he’d simply love her, and know the heart beating under his lips held him in it.

When she rose over him, shook back her hair in the last pulsing lights of the sun, he knew he’d love her every minute of every day for the rest of his life.

She brought his hands to her lips, held them there as she took him in, slowly, slowly, slowly took him in. And when her head fell back from the pleasure of it, as her sigh shuddered out, she glided his hands down to her breasts.

Easy movement, slow again, and long and deep. Wave after wave of that pleasure, more pleasure, with the rise, the fall, the fall and the rise.

The light softened like a pearled mist, held and held there as she held him. And as night crept closer, as the first stars waited to wake, he lifted to her, wrapped around her to take them both over.

She dropped her head to his shoulder, let her body melt to his.

“I’ve never felt for anyone what I feel for you.”

He stroked a hand down her back. “I know.”

Melting or not, she laughed. “Confidence. Heading toward annoying.”

“I know because it’s the same for me. It’s just fact I’m what you want and need. I can wait until you get there. It’s not going to take much longer anyway.”

“I’m seeing a new side of you.” She eased back, tried to see his expression in the encroaching dark. “And it’s leaning heavily toward arrogance.”

“It’s not arrogance to know what you know. No one’s ever going to love you like I do, Cate. It’s going to be hard for you to hold out against that.” He gave her a quick kiss. “I’m starving. I’d say you are, too.”

“I could definitely eat.”

“See? I know what I know.”

While Cate ate fajitas with Dillon in candle-and starlight, Charlotte stormed around her bedroom suite. She’d just had it redone, in gold, gold, and more gold, with emerald and sapphire accents.