Definitely, Maybe in Love

“I’m honored,” I said, nuzzling the side of his neck. He pulled me onto his lap so my legs were straddling him. He stared into my eyes and kissed me deeply, causing heat to build in my stomach then spread up my body, honing my focus. Instinctively, I tugged at his shirt, needing it out of my way.

“Spring,” he whispered, pulling back an inch. “We’re outside.” He glanced over his shoulder then back at me. “It’s not…ideal for us tonight.”

“I know,” I agreed, trying to slow the blood flow racing through my veins.

Henry sighed and ran a hand through my hair, resting it on the side of my neck, probably feeling my jumping pulse. “Just kiss me,” he requested, so softly. I did. “Again.” As I did, his hands slid up the back of my shirt. I shuddered with joy and dissolved…

“Did you know,” I said, pressing my mouth to his neck, “instead of coming here, Mel wanted to take me on vacation this summer?”

His hands stopped moving, then his arms wrapped all the way around me, holding me extra tightly against him. I knew exactly what he was thinking. Yes, we’d come dangerously close to messing everything up forever.

Timing…

“Why did she invite you?” he asked.

I hooked my chin over his shoulder and ran a hand through the back of his hair. “I wasn’t doing very well without you,” I admitted. It was easier to say this while not looking at him. “She knew I needed to get away.”

“Where”—he was back to sounding glum again—“was she taking you?”

“Mexico.” When I felt him shudder, I sat back. “You don’t like Mexico?”

He was displaying his clenched teeth in a parted-lip grimace. I slid off his lap so I could sit next to him. “My concern isn’t so much with the country as it is with the lawless order and behavior in government,” he explained. “I fear being kidnapped in a foreign place and ending up in a Mexican prison. The amount of testosterone is not conducive with my polished manners and rugged good looks.”

I smiled at his formal cadence. Even in mid-embrace, Henry couldn’t help talking like a bourgeois. “It’s so tough being you.” I ran my fingers down his face. “Have you been there?”

He nodded stiffly.

“Bad experience?”

He thought for a moment then laughed. “The last time I was there, my father and I went hiking in a rainstorm and got lost. Cami called the local Federales to pull us out. Humiliating.”

“You’re close to your family,” I observed. This wasn’t a question, because I already knew the answer. When his smile broadened, I sighed, missing my brothers, my mother, even my father a little—which was strange. Maybe I missed the idea of family more than anything. Maybe it was time I did something about that.

“You’re not?” Henry asked, sensing my mood shift.

We were alone under the stars, wrapped around each other, and I was feeling things I never knew were possible for someone like me. We should be enjoying the reunion, making up for lost time, confessing our feelings, and not talking about my family.

But Henry was watching me with that expression I knew so well. He pulled me onto his lap again, making me feel safe and warm, part of something important.

“My parents,” I began, rubbing a hand over my forehead. “They never really meshed, even through six years of marriage. I haven’t spoken to my father in person for a long time. He had issues; we had issues.”

“How long?” Henry asked, taking my hand and pressing it to his chest.

“Years.” Too long, I almost added.

Henry nodded, then pulled me forward, hugging me, his hand moving up and down my hair, then burrowing in to hold the nape of my neck. Revealing this part of my personal history was new to me—I wasn’t used to opening up. But being with Henry, his arms like a blanket, his body my pillow, made me want to share.

“My mom,” I continued, my face still buried in his chest, “she never cooked for us, but she did manage to put together a sack lunch for me when I was a kid. Each of the sandwiches she made…” I trailed off, heavy emotions coming out of nowhere. “She always took a tiny bite out of the corner before wrapping it.” I smiled to myself. “That was her way of telling me she loved me, I guess.”

He didn’t say anything at first, then he dipped his chin to touch his nose to my cheek. “I hope you realize,” he whispered, his soft breath brushing my skin.

“Realize what?”

He gathered me to him, even tighter. “I hope you realize”—he kissed me lightly—“that’s one powerful love story.”

His words gave me that lighter-than-air sensation again, drowsy and dreamy and safe.

Loved.

“Thank you,” I whispered, holding his cheek.

“Will you tell me more?”

Chapter 34

I tucked my hair behind my ears and stared into the glass. Then I untucked it, laying it over my shoulders. I leaned in closer to the mirror then backed away. After a sigh, I turned from side to side.

Strange. Nothing appeared to have altered. Yet something had definitely changed, because I felt different inside. Happy, trusting, new.

Still, my unchanged reflection puzzled me, or maybe I was simply reacting to the way I was being seen through Henry’s eyes, someone who loved me. I bit my lip, remembering…

“Spring?” Mel’s voice startled me as she called through my bedroom door. “Coming down to breakfast?”

I was forced to pull myself away from the mirror and the memories as I answered in the affirmative.

She was grinning ear to ear when I opened the door. “I think I’m your good luck charm.”

I was endeavoring, quite unsuccessfully, to hide my huge smile.

“You’re utterly buzzing, babe.”

“I am not,” I claimed, knowing I most certainly was.

As we walked down the stairs, I could hear Henry’s voice coming from the kitchen. It made me want to slide down the banister and tumble into his arms, Lilah’s glares notwithstanding.

“Oh,” Mel said as she drew my cell phone from her pocket. “You left this here while you and Henry were, umm…” She was smiling again. “Someone called twice for you last night, but I didn’t pick up.”

I checked the missed calls. “Anabel.” I frowned. “Wonder what she wants.”

“Did she stay back at school in the house with Julia?” she asked. “Those two have nothing in common. She’s probably just bored.” Mel’s brown curls bounced as she trotted down the stairs ahead of me, leaving me to return the call.

I ducked into the dark library for privacy. Its walls were lined with shelves of leather-bound volumes. Half of one wall was adorned with an oil painting of a gray-haired man in a Navel officer’s uniform.

Must be one of the Knightlys, I mused as I gazed at the noble figure, feeling an almost reverent affection. So different from my family. I dialed the number, remembering my father’s upcoming nuptials and feeling surprisingly happy for him.

Anabel answered after the first ring. “Spring?”

“Hey stranger,” I said. “Holding down the fort?”

“I know you’re on the road, but I didn’t know what else to do. But, I mean, I thought I should tell someone, right?” Drama queen Anabel rambled on for a minute but I wasn’t following. At one point, I actually held the phone away from my ear. “I didn’t think she was, like, that unhappy, did you? But why else would she say that?”

“Anabel.” I rolled my eyes. “Tell me again, slowly, what’s going on.”

When she spoke this time, her words were still muddled and confusing, but the picture they painted in my