The Girl He Knows (27 page)

“Just hear me out. I’m willing to leave once you’ve listened.”

“It’s too late.” He doesn’t look at me.

“I know I’ve let you down. I know I’ve hurt you. But if you could see past that, find it in your heart to give me another try, I’ll spend every day showing you how much I love you. I’ll show you, even during the times I’m the most afraid, how I no longer live my life behind my cloak of fear. I’ll show you how I’ve embraced it and am using it to make me stronger. I’ll show you that I’m the girl you remember. Your love wasn’t wasted on me.”

“Paisley—” He stands and puts his hands on his hips.

“Just tell me you don’t still love me. Look at me and tell me that it’s really over.” I rush to where he is and place my hand on his chest, over his heart.

“Just say it,” His heart races beneath my hand and it encourages me. He’s breathing heavy through his nose, but his lips are no longer pressed in a thin line. They’ve softened.

“I just got home. I need a shower and—”

A burst of courage and hope explodes in me. This is it, the moment that can change everything for us. I bend down on one knee, open my arms wide, and look at him.

“Hank Lancaster, you’re the love of my life. I want to share every day with you. I want to fight with you, laugh with you, and touch you every chance I get. I want to be with you for the rest of my life and I don’t care what that looks like, whether one of us is injured, angry, happy, sad, moody, or our families interfere. I don’t care, I want you. Will you—”

He swoops down and lifts me, bringing me to my feet.

“Oh no, you don’t,” he says.

As soon as he lets go I drop down on one knee again. He picks me up, and I drop down again, arms extended.

“Dammit, Paisley. Do
not
say it.” He picks me up, pausing. Waiting for me to give some sign, a twitch, that I plan on going back on my knee or that I’m going to comply with his demand. I hold still. He lets go slowly, and I quickly drop down once more.

“I love you,” I declare. “I want to make love with you in parks, in your truck, and on your motorcycle. Especially your motorcycle. That’s really hot. I want to be waiting here when you get back from a long trip, a deployment, at the end of a day.
You
are what I have always wanted. You—”

“Would you stop already? You don’t get to finish this. That’s my job, so shut up.” A small rumble of a laugh escapes from between his lips as his arms go around me, pressing me against his chest. I dangle briefly before I wrap my arms around his neck, my legs around his waist.

“I was only going to ask you to be my boyfriend,” I say. “I don’t know what
you
thought I was going to say.”

“Shut up.”

“I love you.” I look into his eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“I love you,” he says.

Of this I have no doubt. I see it in his eyes, feel it in his touch. He’s proven it over and over again with his actions. Now it’s my turn to prove it to him. When our lips touch, it brings the giddiness of a first kiss and the tenderness of true love. I cup his face and deepen the kiss, branding him with the promise of my forever love.

“Thanks for waiting for me,” I whisper when we come apart. He walks us to his bathroom, heavy with steam from the shower, and unzips my dress.

“I never had a choice. I’ve always been yours,” he says.

“Not the bee upon the blossom,

In the pride o’ sunny noon

Not the little sporting fairy,

All beneath the simmer moon;

Not the poet, in the moment

Fancy lightens in his e’e,

Kens the pleasure, feels the rapture,

That thy presence gi’es to me.”

-Robert Burns

Kristi Rose was raised in central Florida on boiled peanuts and iced tea. Today, she’s a proud military wife and a mother. She’s been lucky enough to travel the world and has lived by an active volcano, almost fallen off a German Alp, and eloped in Arkansas. No matter where she is, she enjoys watching people and wonders about their story. That’s what Kristi writes about: everyday people, the love that brings them together, and their journey. Kristi is a member of RWA. You can follow her at www.kristirose.net, like her Facebook page: Kristi Rose, find her on Pinterest, or send her a tweet @krosewrites. The Girl He Knows is her debut novel.

Lyrical Press books are published by

Kensington Publishing Corp. 119 West 40th Street New York, NY 10018

Copyright © 2014 Kristi Rose

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.

Lyrical Press and the L logo are trademarks of Kensington Publishing Corp.

First Electronic Edition: August 2014

ISBN-13: 978-1-61650-560-8