Her eyes filled with tears.
“Shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to rush you—”
She shook her head. “I’m sorry. I was an idiot, too afraid—”
They both stuttered to a stop as their words ran over each other.
“You go first,” he said, after pausing to take a shaky breath. He had so much riding on this—they had so much riding on it—that he was terrified of screwing up again.
She stared at him for long seconds, her beautiful blue eyes swimming with tears that broke his heart. He tried to keep his hands to himself, but he couldn’t stand to see her look like that, so he reached out and cupped her cheek. Then stroked his thumb across the stray tear rolling silently down her face.
“Hey, it’s okay,” he told her. “I promise, it’s all going to be okay.”
“I’m an idiot,” she said. “A stupid, insecure idiot, and I let old wounds ruin the best thing that ever happened to me.”
“The baking show?”
“You, Dalton. You’re the best thing that has ever happened to
me in my life—the best thing that will ever happen—and I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry I hurt you. So, so sorry I didn’t trust you or myself enough to tell you the truth.”
He’d never been anyone’s best thing before, and he’d be lying if he said it didn’t make him feel about ten feet tall. “So what is the truth?”
She looked away.
“Oh no, none of that.” He put two fingers under her chin and pushed until she was once again looking into his eyes. “Don’t hide from me.”
“I won’t. Not now and never again.” She took a deep, shuddering breath. “I love you, Dalton. I love the way you don’t let me get away with anything and the way you let me get away with everything. I love the way you think things through and the way you let me convince you to leap without looking. I love the way you love my cooking, and I love that you made the biggest disaster I’ve ever seen when you tried to cook for me. I love the way you hold me and I love the way you make love to me—”
“Don’t you mean the way I fuck you?” he asked.
“No.” She shook her head and all that shiny blonde hair of hers went everywhere. “I mean make love. Because that’s what we do. That’s what you taught me to do, and I would do anything to take back hurting you. I love you. I love you so, so—”
He slammed his mouth down onto hers before she could finish, but it didn’t matter. He didn’t need to hear any more. Because Harmony Wright loved him and he loved her right back. Nothing else mattered.
Her lips parted under his, and she kissed him back like he was the most important thing in the universe. Or maybe that was how he was kissing her, because God knew it was the truth.
He was breathless by the time he finally pulled back.
Harmony moaned a little, tried to follow him with her lips. He let her, for a second, then pulled away again.
“Why do you keep doing that?” Exasperation radiated off of her. “I want to kiss you.”
“I want to do much more than kiss you.”
She grinned. “Do tell.”
“But first, I have a question to ask you.”
Her eyes grew wide, and she looked like she was about to be hit by a truck. She smoothed down her skirt and then her hair. “Okay, I’m ready.” Her swallow was audible.
He was a bastard for stringing her along like this, but that was what he and Harmony did. The fact that he would pay for it later only made it more exciting.
“Harmony Marie Wright?”
She put her free hand to her heart. “Yes?”
Gently, he took her free hand and got down on one knee. “Would you do me the honor of … telling me where the key to the handcuffs is?”