“I looked up the rest of your poem,” he said gruffly. “And I thought I needed to tell you that’s how much I love you, too.”
Too. She ran her fingers lightly over his skin. The tattoo had healed, so he must have done it almost as soon as she’d left.
“But you don’t like needles.” Stupid.
He shook his head. “No. I don’t. But I like you. Hell, Maddie, read the words. I more than like you.”
She kept waiting to wake up, because she’d had some pretty awesome dreams about him these past few weeks, but she didn’t, and reality was apparently better than anything she could concoct on her own. “You have to say it or it doesn’t count.”
He pulled her up against him. “Is that so? Because I want you back, and you should know that I’m willing to do whatever it takes. Tell me I’m not too late.”
“That’s a good start.”
“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I’m sorry it took me longer than it did you to figure out that what we have is something rare and truly special. I’m sorry I made you propose first, when I should have known it was a privilege to love you and that I was a crazy fool to let you go when I could have held on.” He tightened his arms around her. “How am I doing so far?”
“You’re getting warmer. Keep going.”
“We’re supposed to be together. I love you and I’ll do whatever it takes to prove that to you.” He swept her backward into a deep, passionate kiss that rocked her world. Rocked her heart.
Long minutes later, when he broke off their kiss and rested his forehead against hers, she felt too much. The emotions rushing through her made her heart swell and bang against her rib cage. Mason had come for her.
“One more thing,” he said.
“Okay.” Why had he stopped? And why was he still talking?
“I’m a US Navy SEAL.”
Yeah. She could see that for herself. “Kind of showed me back there on the island,” she reminded him.
“It’s who I am,” he continued thickly. “I don’t know if I’ll serve for five years or fifty, but it’s part of me, part of who I am. I need to know you’re good with that.”
“Waiting for you?” God. He was going to have to yell his answer, because her heart was thundering in her ears.
He held her gaze, as though her next words were more important than any mission go. “Yes. In our bed, in our house. I’d like to tell you that we’ll figure it out, that it maybe gets easier with time and with practice, but I don’t know. I’ve never had to be the one waiting and it’s every bit as hard as being the guy out there in the field.”
With the guns and the danger. She didn’t like thinking about Mason getting hurt or being out there where things like Santiago Marcos happened on a daily basis. What she did know, though, was that she absolutely, 200 percent wanted to be the woman he came home to.
“We’ve got this,” she said finally. “Just as long as you swear you’ll always come home.”
“I promise.” His breath shuddered out, as if he’d been holding it and doing some waiting of his own. “And I accept your proposal, if it’s still good. I didn’t hear an expiration date, and you’re going to have to cut me some slack for being slow. Let me marry you and I’ll be the happiest goddamned SEAL ever.”
* * *
MADDIE TEARED UP. She stared at him and he could see—see—the tears welling up in her eyes. Crap. “You’re not supposed to cry.”
Not sure how to fix this, he hauled her close, letting her blubber all over his dress shirt. She already had his jacket and his heart. She could have everything else, too.
She pressed a hand against his chest. “You’re in uniform.”
“Yeah.” He looked back at her steadily. “This didn’t seem like a T-shirt affair, and you’re worth getting dressed up for.”
“Or naked,” she said hopefully.
“Or naked,” he agreed. He suddenly had a whole new appreciation for how the animals felt at the zoo. He’d liberated a palace’s worth once in the Middle East, busting the locks on the cages and letting the beasts free. It had seemed like the right thing to do, then and now, because with an entire sea of unfamiliar faces staring at him from an enormous purple tent, he felt the same way. Plus, he itched just looking at the clothes. This wasn’t his kind of scene.
What Maddie was wearing wasn’t so bad, however. Apparently, she’d lucked out in the bridesmaid sweepstakes this time. Her blueberry-pie-colored dress was made out of a floaty fabric that brushed the floor, and it had those skinny spaghetti straps that seemed too thin to hold up her gorgeous breasts. He had plans for those straps, like thumbing them off her shoulder. Not that he’d get too far, because the top of her dress was a little snug and they spilled over the top, tempting him to touch. She looked ravishing, even if her hair had been pinned up in an elaborate series of curls and braids. He’d probably stormed beaches in less time than it had taken to do her hair.