You Own Me (13 page)

His hand came up to grip her hip, one thumb rubbing up and down. She felt it through the thin layer of the dress she’d pulled on, felt the heat of his body reaching out to touch hers. “And all of that is in the past. It’s done. What matters is now. Lizzie, I love you. You’ve owned me, heart and soul, from the beginning.”

Now he pulled back and blue eyes caught her, held her captive.

She reached down, caught his hand—his right one—and tugged it from her hip.

Lifting it up, she studied the tattoo there. It was faded, probably from all the work he did with his hands.

“Chuck Oleander,” she murmured, shaking her head. “Why did you go with that name?”

His hand remained passive in hers. “It’s mine…sort of. Decker Calhoun, all mixed up. An anagram. Besides, you don’t mind oleander…dangerous things don’t bother you much.”

If she’d let herself think about it, would she have guessed?

She really didn’t know.

“You told me you’d tell me what this was for,” she murmured.

Now his hand closed into a fist. “I already did. It’s for you. You own me.”

She swallowed and then tapped on his fingers until slowly, he uncurled them. She leaned in, pressed a soft, open kiss to his palm.

“Do you know why I came over that day?”

A hood fell over his eyes. “No. But we need to—”

Reaching down, she picked up another letter, studied the date. She’d read these, every single one.

He’d given her these secrets. It was time she give him the other one she’d kept tucked deep inside. “I came over there because I had something I wanted to tell you.”

Now she looked up at him. “I was nervous. Scared. I really didn’t know how I was going to tell you, but you…you were leaving soon, and I didn’t want you to leave for Alabama without me telling you.”

Her eyes were intent. Locked on his.

His heart thudded in his chest, hard and fast, and Decker couldn’t remember the last time he’d ever had this much trouble breathing. His tongue felt too thick inside his mouth and he had a hard time asking, but he finally managed to get the words out.

“Tell me what?”

He didn’t remember when he’d done it, but at some point, he’d buried a fist in her hair. And he’d pulled her closer, too. So close that when she spoke again, her lips were pressed to his.

“My secret,” she said. “I hid it, ignored it, tried to pretend it didn’t exist for a long time.”

Her tongue flicked out, stroked his lip.

Heat exploded through him, but he grabbed a hold of it, lashed it down.

Because this mattered—in that very moment—this mattered more than the need that threatened to eat him alive any time he was near her.

“What secret?”

Now a smile bloomed over her lips. “That I love you. I loved you then…I loved you when you held me while I was crying and shaking on the floor, and I loved you when you stood in that courtroom and then told me that you didn’t have any regrets. I loved you every day you were gone and I love you now.”

“That’s…” He blew out a ragged breath. His head was spinning. Wow. “That’s a big secret.”

“Yeah. Feels kind of good to let it out.” She slid her hand inside his, teased the faded tattoo there. She’d wasted years with somebody who hadn’t really loved her…all because she’d needed to belong with somebody.

But somebody had been there all along.

“I should have figured it out, you know. When I saw this. I should have known,” she murmured. “You own me, too. We belong together.”

“Hmmm. Lizzie?” His mouth caught hers, a hard, deep, drugging kiss.

“What?” She was panting when he lifted his head.

“I’ll take you back inside now, if you really want to go. But I’d rather take you home.”

“You can take me anywhere you want.”
Absolutely anywhere…
she thought. Then she looked down at the letters. “As soon as you help me get all these letters. I’ve got years of reading to catch up on.”