“You really do understand,” he said with as much awe as disbelief.

“I’m trying. I still have a lot to learn, but I’ve been thinking about a few things you said the other night. You might think Truman was born having all of his ducks in a row, but he lived a different childhood than you did. It sounded like he had your grandmother to help guide him, at least a little, before you were born. But you had no adults to guide you. And yes, Truman did remarkable things, but he was still a kid raising a kid in a house overrun by drug addicts.”

She took off her glasses and set them on the coffee table. Then she took his hand and said, “Please listen to what I’m about to say, because it’s important. Truman is wonderful, but he had nine years before you came along to figure things out. I’m not saying it was easy for him, because I’m sure it was hell. But he has nothing on you, Quincy Gritt, because you were born into the worst kind of chaos, and you’ve caught up in record time. In two short years, you’ve not only lined up your ducks and set them on a path to a strong, stable future, but you’re also helping others get their ducks in a row. That is what great men are made of, Mr. Gritt, and I am honored that you chose me to be by your side on this journey.”

His heart cracked wide open, her every word burrowing deep inside him, planting roots. Truman was his pillar of strength and character, the man he’d forever held on a pedestal, and this incredible woman thought he belonged there, too. “You can’t imagine how much that means to me.”

Her long lashes fluttered as she looked down at their joined hands, her cheeks pinked up as her beautiful eyes met his, and she said, “Then maybe you can show me. I miss you, Quincy.”

“God, baby, I miss you, too.” His arm circled her as their mouths came together, softly at first, in a kiss full of unspoken promises and unyielding hope. He deepened the kiss, pouring his pent-up emotions into their connection, and she kissed him more passionately.

Their tongues collided, hard and hungry. She grabbed his hair, drawing a groan from his lungs and a moan from hers as she leaned back, bringing him down over her, and holy hell, he loved that taking. Everything felt different—the ferocity of their kisses, the way she clung to him, even the thundering of his own heart felt bigger, louder, as if it was beating hard enough for both of them. Their hands were everywhere, caressing, groping, claiming. She was so soft and luscious, and she was right there with him in their mutual devouring. Minutes turned to much longer, and the world faded away, until there was only him and Roni and the wild passion consuming them.

He didn’t know how long they lay there making out, their bodies grinding and rocking in perfect sync. She was making those sexy noises, turning his blood to fire, and he never wanted it to end. He kissed her slower, more sensually, his tongue sliding over hers, then delving deep and possessive, drawing out their pleasure. She arched beneath him, moaning and holding him tighter as they both took the kiss deeper. She was his heaven and his earth, a delicacy he treasured and a grounding force he hadn’t known he needed. He wanted—needed—her with him tonight, in his arms, and he didn’t care if they kept their clothes on till morning.