“Yes,” she breathes. “And absolutely yes!”

She pulls me up into a hug. I hold her in my arms and hold her tight, kissing her hair, her mouth, her neck.

“You lost your family,” I murmur into her ear. “I will never presume or try to replace them. But let’s start our own family. A new one. Together. In Charleston or Paris or where the fuck ever. We’ll dance to David Bowie and wear our stretchy pants and watch Tony and Carm. As long as you’re there, it will be home.”

She pulls back to look at me. Tired, but relieved now, and happy.

“That’s all I’ve ever wanted,” she says. “To dance with someone like you. This—you—us—it’s what I’ve been looking for without even knowing it.”

I grin. “Can I make a point though?”

“Of course.”

“I really would like a backyard for Charlie Brown. Bryce lives in Ford’s. We don’t have to buy a house like the one we looked at. But I would eventually like to have a place with some grass.”

She nods. “I hear you. I agree we probably need a new place in the long run, so I’d be happy to undertake the search for one with you. I’d just like it to be something a little closer to what I’d always pictured my dream house looking like.”

“Tell me more.”

“It’d be something we can afford without you working all the time, for starters,” she replies. “And I’d love a house that’s got some history and plenty of character. A spot in a great neighborhood with lots of trees we could hang a swing from. Something that needs work—something we could put our mark on, and make our own.”

“I love that idea,” I say. “I love you. I am so in love with you, sweetheart.”

“And I am so in love with you. All of you. The good parts and the bad. The gentleman and the villain. Don’t you dare hide any of who you are from me, Grey.”

I grin. “Because you don’t scare easy.”

“Because I adore you. All of you. Your truth. I want it all. And now I want you.” She gives my hand a hard tug, pulling me to my feet. “Get in here.”

“Yes ma’am.”

I glide back onto the bench and shut the door.

She climbs on top of me.

She straddles my lap, nearly falling over when her belly gets caught between us. I catch her, just in time.

“A little different from when we first did this,” she says, laughing.

“Don’t worry, Charlie Brown, we’ll keep you safe. Here Julia—try leaning back,” I say, putting my hands on her hips. “I got you. See? Yeah, that’s better.”

She puts her hands on my shoulders to steady herself. I glide my hands up her sides, gathering the material of her dress in my fists.

But instead of tearing her dress off and kissing her neck, I kiss her mouth.

Hard.

Well.

She kisses me back. Hands on my face and in my hair. Tilting her head, her mouth soft and slick and hot on mine.