He crossed the threshold and came right up to her. “My fault. Not yours.”
“You came for me,” she whispered, peering up at him. God, his rugged face looked a whole lot like coming home.
“I did,” he said, stepping closer. So close that his heat warmed her body. “And I’ll keep doing it until you tell me to stop.”
“Griffin,” she whispered, the intensity in his voice stirring so much inside her. Feelings, memories, desires.
“Aw, baby, come here,” he said, pulling her into a bear hug so comforting that she choked out a little cry from the sheer relief of it.
Kenna buried her face in his broad chest and breathed him in. Her arms circled his strong back, and then they stood there for a long time, just holding each other. How could he make her feel so much when they’d been apart for so long? Why did this feel so natural with Griffin despite those years? How could she find a moment like this one, of such peace and solace, after all they’d been through?
She didn’t know, but part of her wondered if the whys and hows mattered. Some people waited their wholes lives to find even a fraction of what she felt in that moment. Maybe that was what mattered. Maybe that was all that mattered.
“Can I please come in?” he asked, his lips against her hair.
She nodded, motioning for him to enter. “It’s, um, it’s not much.” She looked around the small studio—at the rumpled blanket balled up on the futon couch, the little TV sitting on what was supposed to be an end table, the perfectly made-up bed, and the two-seater table and chairs on the far wall by the kitchen. It looked like a dorm, only without any personality or color.
“It’s where you are,” he said. “That’s all that matters to me.”
He was killing her with his sweetness right now, he really was. “Um. Okay.” She grasped the end of her stump, shielding it with her hand. “Can I get you something to drink? I think I have—”
“Baby.” He got right up in her space again.
“What?”
“Baby,” he whispered, leaning in close. His lips brushed her cheek. “You don’t have to entertain me. You don’t have to hide from me.” Gently, he pulled her fingers from what was left of her forearm.
She released a shaky breath. “It’s not pretty.”
He shook his head and made a noise low in his throat. “No, it’s not. It’s fucking beautiful. Because it’s a part of you. A part of you that got injured in the service of your country, Kenna. Your arm is a damn badge of honor as far as I’m concerned. Come here.”
A warm pressure expanded within her chest. What was he doing to her? Because right now, his words were wrapping around her as tight as his ropes ever did.
He guided her to the futon, and they sat down. Close. Facing each other. Her knees drawn up against his thighs.
“Can we talk? Please? Can I explain?” He stroked the hair back off her face.
When he asked like that, his voice so full of yearning, she couldn’t resist. “Yes, Sir.”
He shook his head. “Tonight we’re just Griffin and Kenna. I don’t want you to feel like there are rules here. It’s just you and me talking and trying to figure things out, okay?”
God, that was what she needed to hear, too. “Okay.”
He released a troubled sigh. “I messed up, Kenna. Five years ago.” He shook his head, and his hand dropped down to lightly massage her shoulder. “I know that. Hell, I knew it then within a few weeks. I know that my messing up cost you in so many ways. When I think of all the pain you might’ve been spared if I’d just fucking grown up and manned up when you needed me to—” He chuffed out a humorless breath. “I honestly don’t know how you could ever forgive me for that.”
She frowned, unease stirring in her belly, but he plowed on before she could put her finger on the source of it.
“Obviously, I can’t take back what my actions caused,” he said, looking at her ruined arm. “So maybe I shouldn’t even be hoping...or asking...but I’m here. And I am.” His dark eyes blazed at her.
“Wait, Griffin, why does it sound like you’re apologizing for my amputation?”