Ean had set a change of clothes on the bed, stone gray slacks and the burgundy sweater she liked. A chill trailed down her spine. Where was he going? It was New Year’s Eve. With whom was he celebrating?
Megan sank onto the foot of the bed and lifted his sweater. Was she too late? Had he given up on her?
Ean emerged from the bathroom, wrapped in a cloud of steam and nothing else. The scent of soap and shampoo trailed after him. He took her breath away. He appeared like a mythological hero—larger than life, brave, bold. She yearned to trace the sculpted muscles under his dark, damp skin, but this was too important. She couldn’t afford distractions.
Ean stopped when he saw her. Surprise and confusion swept through his olive gaze. She was used to a warmer welcome.
“Megan?” He sounded uncertain.
Megan released his sweater and stood on shaky legs. She braced her calves against the mattress for support. “I’m sorry to barge in on you. I hadn’t realized you were on your way out.” She gestured with a trembling hand toward his neatly laid-out clothing.
Ean’s attention dropped briefly to his bed before returning to her. He was silent for several long seconds. Was he trying to think of a way to ask her to leave?
“How did you get in?” He crossed to the bed and began to dress.
Megan’s eyes ate up his long legs and tight hips. She dragged her gaze up his muscled torso to his face. “You gave me a key to your townhome, remember?”
“Oh yeah.” He pulled his slacks on over his underwear. “I thought you were a mirage.”
What’s that supposed to mean? It was time to stop stalling. Megan wrapped her arms around her waist. “I’ve contacted a Realtor.”
Ean seemed startled. “Why?”
The sound of the zipper closing over his fly drained the moisture from her mouth. Megan remembered his question. “I’m putting my grandparents’ home on the market. I want to move in with you. I was afraid to, before. But I shouldn’t have let fear control my feelings for you. You were right.”
“I was wrong.” Ean’s flat statement interrupted Megan’s halting admissions.
“What?” Oh, God, did I wait too long? Did Ean not want her to move in with him anymore?
“I was an ass.”
“What?” Now she was thoroughly confused.
“You were right. I was on my way to tell you that. I had no right to pressure you into moving in with me, making that kind of commitment in only two months.” Ean pushed his hands into the front pockets of his gray slacks. “We’ll go at your pace.”
At her pace? Was he willing to give her another chance? Did he believe her now?
Megan spread her arms. “But I’m ready to make that commitment to you. I do believe that you’ve come home to stay. But even if you haven’t . . . If you want to return to New York, or move to Philadelphia or Timbuktu—I’ll go with you.”
Ean’s body froze. When he’d walked into his bedroom and found Megan sitting on his bed, he’d thought he was hallucinating. He’d thought all the nights of wanting her had caused his mind to snap. Now he thought he might be dreaming. “You’d leave Trinity Falls for me?”
Megan brushed her hands over her eyes. “A house and a store are not more important to me than you.”
Ean didn’t remember moving. But suddenly Megan was in his arms. He was holding her so tight and kissing her so deep. Her body against his, her heat seeping into his skin was healing the aches he’d borne over the past week. He tasted joy, relief, hunger—hers and his.
He plunged his tongue into her mouth, seeking her response. She pulled him even closer, digging her fingertips into his shoulders. Ean lowered his left hand to her firm buttocks and squeezed. Megan pressed her hips tighter against his burgeoning erection. She was with him. She responded with him and to him. His blood rushed through his veins. He wanted her now; he needed her always. Ean cupped her hips to raise her against him. He started for the bed. Megan wrapped her legs around his waist.
“You believe me now?” Megan’s breathy question confused him.
“Believe what?” He laid her on the mattress and covered her body with his own.
“That I know you’re staying in Trinity Falls. That I trust you. That our relationship is more than sex.”
Ean raised himself on his forearms and looked into her hot chocolate eyes. “I believe you. But I want you to take your grandparents’ home off the market.”
She gave him her long, slow blink, which always melted his heart. “But I want to move in with you.”
He pressed a quick, hard kiss against her soft lips. “I want to live with you, too. But your grandparents left you that house. I’d rather we lived there, if that’s all right with you.”