Chapter Eleven
The houses were up for sale.
Rocco had stopped by yesterday to show a potential buyer around Lemon’s place. All of her stuff had been packed up, and from the sold sign out front, she was moving on with her life.
It was Christmas day.
It had been over a week since Lemon learned the truth.
She hadn’t reached out to him.
Rocco had promised him he’d give her all the relevant information if she wanted to talk to him, but so far, nothing.
Sitting on the living room floor, he held the single gift in his hand that Lemon had placed beneath the tree. He hadn’t opened it yet.
Nate remembered her smiling face. How she had looked at him, and he missed that. He missed her.
Holding the package in his hands, he couldn’t believe it had come down to this. He hadn’t sent flowers, chocolates, or jewelry to Lemon. All of them had felt tacky. Instead, he’d given her a real gift of time.
Time to get over him.
Time to think about him and to know where her thoughts were at.
Time was the most precious gift of all.
Still, no phone call. No visit. She didn’t even come to show the guy around her place. He’d stayed at the houses, only leaving when Rocco had told him about the attack on the O’Leaves.
The threat to Lemon’s life was gone.
After tearing open the package, he stared down and laughed.
A pair of Christmas shorts fell into his lap. Picking them up, he couldn’t help but laugh. They were corny and he absolutely loved them.
Lemon had made him something.
The doorbell rang.
Getting to his feet, he held the shorts in his hands as he opened the door, then froze. Lemon stood, hand poised to knock again.
“Lemon,” he said.
“Nate.” She nibbled on her lip, and the smile he’d missed so much was on her face.
He reached for her, pulling her into his arms, pressing his face against her neck, and holding her close. He expected her to fight him, but Lemon put her arms around him.
Taking advantage, he pulled her into his home, pressing her up against the door and kissing her like his life depended on it.
Drinking her in. Soaking her up.
“I missed you,” he said.
He stared into her eyes, and he just couldn’t wait another second. Slamming his lips down on hers, he kissed her back.
Lemon sank her fingers into his hair, moaning as he plunged inside her mouth, deepening the kiss.
Still with the shorts in his hands, but he also squeezed Lemon’s ass.
All of a sudden, she broke the kiss. “Wait. Wait.” She licked her lips. “I need to get this all out before anything else happens.”
She put her hand flat to his chest and he stayed perfectly still waiting for her to say whatever she needed to.
He would do anything for her.
Be anything.
“I love you, Lemon. So much and I know I fucked up big time, but I promise you, I will never do anything like that again. I will be open and honest with you. I will tell you everything.”
“I’m not pregnant,” Lemon said.
Now he was fucked.
Lemon could walk away.
“But I want to know why you refused to use a condom.”
This wasn’t good.
“Damn it, Lemon, you know why.”
“Tell me.”
“At first, it was because I didn’t think about it. Being inside you, it was … I’ve never felt like that. Then after—” He stopped and took a breath. “Then after, I think I knew there was a chance of you finding out the truth and I didn’t want to lose you.” But he had.
“Nate, you don’t believe in love.”
“I know. That’s how I know these feelings are real. The thought of losing you. The past week, not being near you, that is what real torture is all about, and believe me, I’ve had my fair share of beatings, and I would take them all day, every single day, if it meant I got time with you, Lemon.” He cupped her face. “You own me. You have my heart. I am completely and totally in love with you.”
“But you don’t believe in the cursed houses?”
“I don’t know, because right now, you’re here with me, and I’ve got to hope that it’s because you feel for me the same way I feel for you.” It was all he had to hold on to.
“Nate Evans,” Lemon said, and much to his surprise she went down on one knee and he frowned. This wasn’t what he was expecting. “I am completely, totally in love with you. Will you marry me?”
He shook his head.
“Is that a no?”
“Shit, no, it’s not a no, it’s a … I want to marry you.” He went down on his knees. “I should be the one proposing.”
“Well, I wanted to be the one to do it. Is that a yes?”
He saw the smile on her lips, and he pulled her in close, breathing her in. He ran his fingers through her hair, holding her as close as possible.