New York, Actually (From Manhattan with Love 4)

“No. It can’t wait. If it was enough to make you turn up at my apartment, then I want to know what it was.”

“We should be looking for Brutus—”

“We’ve searched the park and there’s been no sign of him. No one has reported an unattended dog. All we can do is wait and keep looking. I keep hoping he might show up here, at our bench.” He leaned forward, resting his forearms on his thighs. “You had a tough night. I’m sorry I made it worse. I was wrong to say what I said.”

“You weren’t wrong, but I was.”

He sat up and turned to face her. “You were?”

This wasn’t how she’d planned on telling him, but she’d given up trying to find the right way or even the best way. “I was wrong about all of it. I was wrong to send you away. I was wrong about not wanting you to love me. And it turns out I was wrong about not being able to fall in love.” Her mouth was dry, and she wished she’d taken the time to bring her usual bottle of water. “The reason I know that is because I’m in love with you. The first time in my life I wasn’t actually trying to fall in love, I fell in love. And because I wasn’t trying to make it happen I didn’t even know it was happening. I didn’t recognize it, but you did. I love you.” She couldn’t believe that words she’d never said before could be so easy to say. “I love you. And I was trying to work out how to tell you. I didn’t know whether to call and do it on the phone, or write to you, or—”

He didn’t give her a chance to say all the other things she wanted to say. His mouth came down on hers, his kiss demanding and layered with more than a touch of desperation. He yanked her against him and her last coherent thought was one of gratitude that he hadn’t changed his mind. That he still felt everything he’d felt earlier that morning.

She didn’t know whether to laugh with joy or cry with relief. She gave up trying to speak

and let herself go, hurtling into the kiss. She slid her fingers into the silk of his hair, stroked her palm over his rough jaw, whispered breathless words of love against his seeking mouth. And now she’d said the words once, she couldn’t stop saying them.

“Love you, love you, love you—”

And he said the same words back to her, his hands in her hair, his mouth urgent on hers. She felt the heat in his kiss, and other things, too. Sweetness, sincerity, security. And still he kissed her, words punctuated by greedy kisses until speaking stopped being a priority.

It felt as if they kissed forever, and when he finally lifted his head, he still didn’t release her. Instead he wrapped his arms around her and rested his chin in her hair.

“I was sure you loved me, but then I kept thinking I must have been wrong.”

“You weren’t wrong. And I’m so happy about that. You have no idea how happy. I was scared there was something missing in me.” She lifted her hand and touched his face.

“I never want you to be scared. Or sad.” He broke off and flashed her an apologetic smile. “I’m the guy who always knows what to say, but right now I don’t know what to say.”

“You already said the most important words.”

“That I love you?”

“Yes. And you said that I’m enough. You have no idea what hearing you say that meant to me.” She rested her hand on his chest, feeling the beat of his heart under her fingers and knowing that she’d never, ever, do anything to hurt that heart. She stayed like that for a moment, breathing in the scent of him, the scent of the park, the scent of the city. “I’ve written about love all my life, but I’ve never felt it. Until now.”

“How does it feel?”

“Like a legal high.” Before she could elaborate, there was a commotion behind her and she saw Daniel’s face break into a smile. She turned her head and there, racing toward them was Valentine, and right behind him was another dog. Heavier, clumsier, but wonderfully familiar.

“Brutus!” She was filled with joy and relief. “Valentine found him. He’s safe.”

Valentine shot up to her and Brutus lurched to a halt next to Daniel, who for a moment said nothing.

Molly was beginning to think he didn’t recognize the dog when he dropped into a crouch and pulled Brutus toward him.

Brutus whined and licked him, put his paws on Daniel’s shoulders until he had to brace himself to keep his balance.

Still he didn’t speak, and it was only when she looked closely that Molly realized that the reason he didn’t speak was because he couldn’t.

Witnessing the emotion in his face made her heart contract.

She put her hand on his shoulder. “He’s safe.”

“I imagined him being hit by a car. I thought—”

“He’s here and he’s fine. We should call the twins. We’ll get him checked. We’ll take him to see Steven. He shouldn’t go back to those people.”

“He’s not going back to them.” Daniel rose unsteadily to his feet. “He’s going to live with me.”