“I’ve fallen in love with you, Zane Phillips.”
I can feel his body hitch at the words, his breath catch, and then his lips meet mine as he accepts the words that I know scare him.
“Harlow, I promise that—”
“No promises, Zane. I just want you. How you are. Who you are. Mistakes and all because God knows I’ll make plenty of them too. We don’t have to promise each other anything other than we’ll try. That’s all I can ask of you.”
“So that’s a yes, then?”
“That’s a pretty broad statement for me to agree to.” I laugh.
“You’ll move in with me?” He leans back, eyes asking, smile reinforcing.
“That depends.”
“On what?”
“If Lula will like Smudge.”
“I’m sure if we just throw them together in the same dog run, they’ll learn to love each other.”
“Is that so?”
“Yep, look at the two of us,” he says as he wraps his arms around me and just holds on.
“I don’t believe in forcing a relationship.”
Zane throws his head back and laughs. “Oh, do I have a story for you, then.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes, but that’s for another time.”
“What’s for right now, then?”
“Making up for all the time I’ve missed kissing you, Cinder.”
Our eyes meet, hold, flirt.
“Such a hardship, but I guess I’m up for the challenge.”
“You better be,” he murmurs as his lips meet mine and our worlds collide once again.
The only difference is this time the collision is a welcome one.
Without pretenses.
Without an audience.
Just the two of us and a world full of possibilities.
One year later
THE COAST OF SARDINIA IS breathtaking. The beaches, the water, the people.
The man walking toward me with board shorts slung low on his hips and eyes that are only for me, even more so.
How is this my life?
I don’t ever want to leave.
“Hey, there,” he says and pulls me into him for a kiss. Whiskey and mint are on his lips and the scent of the sun is on his skin.
“So?” I ask.
“So . . .” he murmurs against my lips when he leans back and looks at me. “How’d I get so lucky?”
“Are you going to tell me?”
“Tell you what?”
“The outcome?” I swat at his chest playfully as he pulls me in for another kiss to try and distract me.
“I don’t know.”
“What do you mean you don’t know?”
Is he being serious?
“I walked away from the bet. I let the money go.”
“Very funny. You’d never do that and let Kostas win without a fight. I know you better than that.” But there is something about the way he says it that tells me he isn’t joking. He wouldn’t, would he? “Zane?”
“You can’t put a profit on love. It’s priceless.”
“Oh, God that was cheesy.” I laugh.
“Hey, don’t hate the player.”
“Well, then the player needs to get a stronger game,” I say but there’s something about the way he looks at me that makes me think he’s really not joking.
“Zane?” He just stares at me and lifts his brows. “Zane!”
“Hmm?” He tilts back the bottle of beer to his lips.
“You’re not joking are you?”
“About?”
“You forfeit the bet?”
He shrugs like a man who can walk away from that kind of money without caring. “I agreed to the bet in the first place because I wanted that thrill. The buzz was missing. But I realized it wasn’t the business I needed, but rather something else . . . or should I say someone else.”
“Ohhh, much stronger game there. Definitely an improvement.”
“See? I can learn.”
“You can,” I lean over and press my lips to his. “And you have.” And then one more time. “Now are you going to tell me what happened in your meeting?”
He shrugs like a man who is used to winning and losing millions—with complete nonchalance.
The past week has been . . . God, it’s been fabulous. We made ourselves turn our phones off, unplug, and tune in. Lazy days on the beach. Spontaneous picnics in the park. Lovemaking that lasts for hours.
No interruptions. No stress. Just us.
Then of course company came today. Kostas and Mateo and Enzo arrived for their annual two year get together. And to open the envelope that holds the results of their high-stakes contest.
I look over at Zane. He has color on his skin and there’s an ease to him that’s new to me. Almost as if he’s finally comfortable in his own skin. I’ve always thought he was before, but I can see it now.
“What?” He says when he notices me watching him watch the yachts bobbing in the crystal blue of the ocean.
“You’re serious aren’t you?”
“Do I ever joke about money?”
“But Zane!” I sputter out the words. “That’s a lot of money!” Like more than I’m even comfortable saying. A million dollars he’ll lose in the purse and a million dollars he used for SoulM8. “You put all that money into SoulM8 and then the prize and—”
“And SoulM8 is making me a lot more money than that initial investment . . . and I found you.” He reaches over and cups the side of my face, thumb brushing over my bottom lip, trying to distract me. “I think I got my money’s worth.”