“I vote for every single one of them,” he said, and she smiled.
“Done. And we have to do more rainy-weekend binge-watching. And sightseeing. And you get to cook. It’s essential to our survival.”
He laughed at that.
“We need to decide if this is going to be long distance or—”
“No,” he interrupted vehemently. “Definitely not long distance. I can’t do long distance, Tina. It would fucking kill me. We’ll work something out, but since this has become home to you, I’ll look into moving as soon as possible.”
“Harris,” she whispered, moved by his willingness to uproot his entire life, but she feared he might come to regret spur-of-the-moment, life-altering decisions. “That seems like a huge step, and it’s a really big ask. I can’t expect you to up and move at a moment’s notice. I was thinking baby steps. Maybe weekend visits to start off with.”
“I’m a grown-ass man, I don’t need baby steps. I know what I want and need,” he said dismissively. “And everything I need, want, and desire is in this town, Tina. That’s damned well worth the move.”
“Well,” she said, at a complete loss for words. “Um, since this is your relationship, too, you have every right to add to the list.”
“I’m not looking for anything short term,” he asserted. “If that’s what this is about, then it’s best to tell me now.”
She shook her head dazedly.
“No. Not short term,” she murmured, even though she had no real idea what she wanted. All she knew was that she wanted him. Like she had always wanted him. That didn’t seem like a short-term thing.
“I want you to tell me when you’re frightened or anxious or concerned or just plain aggravated with me or anyone else. You’re too adept at hiding what you’re feeling, and it drives me crazy.”
“Only if you do the same.”
“No more secrets?”
“None,” she promised, before hesitating as she remembered one enormous secret she still had to tell him. “Well . . .”
She looked guilty, and Harris’s stomach dropped to the soles of his feet. She was hiding something from him. Again. Things were going much better than he’d ever expected, but now, with that furtive little glance, he felt an all-too-familiar surge of dread as he wondered what she was keeping from him.
“I do have another secret.” Her eyes dropped to his chest and then back up to his face. “Maybe two.”
“Jesus, Tina,” he began, but she gave him a reassuring smile.
“They won’t be secrets for much longer, I promise. I first wanted to make sure we’re on the same page, as far as this relationship business goes.”
“No short term?” he reiterated.
“No.”
“No secrets?”
“Not for long.”
“Lovemaking and not sex?”
“Definitely.”
“Every sunrise?”
“And possibly every sunset and as many hours in between as humanly possible,” she elaborated, and he swallowed past the huge lump that had formed in his throat before nodding.
“Then we’re on the same page.”
“Good.” She unexpectedly put a hand down the neck of his shirt and tugged his pendant out. And then over his head. She held the heavy silver hoop in her hand and peered down at it.
“You kept it.”
“Yes. I almost didn’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because of what you said when you first discovered I was wearing it.”
“Remind me?”
“You said it was a keepsake of the worst night of your life. And I couldn’t bear to wear it after that. But then I woke up that morning, and you’d sneaked it on me. And I couldn’t bear to take it off.”
“Why not?”
“Because it reminds me of you. It always has. Not of that night, but of you. My Tina. And when you put it back on, I thought maybe it would be okay, because you clearly wanted me to wear it.”
“I do want you to wear it; I like the thought of you wearing it. You haven’t taken it off since I put it on you, have you?”
“No.”
“Oh. So, you haven’t really looked at it?” Something in her voice caught his attention, and he dipped his head to the side as he tried to catch her downcast eyes. She was looking at the pendant, turning it round and round between her forefinger and thumb. He stilled the movement of her hand with his and gently removed the hoop from her grasp. He inspected the smooth outer surface carefully, then directed his attention to the tiny initials he knew were engraved in there: MJ.
He peered closer. Something was different. It was no longer just the two letters. His breath caught, and his crazy, unpredictable heart stuttered and then stalled completely in his chest.
MJ + HC = FJ
His eyes flooded and embarrassingly overflowed as he stared at the complete engraving.
“When did you . . . ?” He couldn’t complete the question. He couldn’t even complete a single coherent thought. All he could do was peer at that tiny, perfect little engraving. And he could barely do that through the blur of tears in his eyes.