I lowered my arm slowly, releasing the trigger and exhaling at the same time, my throat aching because of Richard’s abuse. “Take him away.”
I didn’t even look at Richard. Didn’t give him the satisfaction. I just stared at Jeremy as the men who had hovered behind me rushed forward, taking Richard away in cuffs. Once we were alone, I wrapped my arms around myself, my whole body aching from the beating and the fight I’d lived through. But it was over now. It was actually over. “You’re shot.”
Jeremy glanced down. “Yeah. It’s nothing.”
I didn’t say anything to that because it didn’t look like nothing to me. “So now what?”
“Now—Christ.” He crossed the room, closing the distance between us. He pulled me into his arms, threaded his hands in my hair, and kissed me gently. I was pissed at him, and there were a million reasons why I shouldn’t be in his arms like this. But right now? I needed him more than I needed air. When he pulled back, he framed my face with his hands gently. “Now we get checked out by a doctor, and then we come home. I’ll tuck you in and stay the night to make sure no one bothers you for at least twenty-four hours. You need to recover from today.”
His voice was raspy at the end. Almost broken.
“You think you’re staying the night?” I asked. “Hell no. I’m fine on my—”
“It wasn’t a request. I’m staying.” He ran his thumb over my cheek, smiling gently when I glowered at him. “I meant what I said before all this went down. I’m not going anywhere, Chels. I know this scares you, and you don’t feel the same way yet, and I know you’re pissed as hell at me, but I love you. I’m going to spend the rest of my life loving you, even if you never forgive me or love me back. And nothing you do or say will stop me.”
I stared up at him, heart pounding. For the first time, hearing those words come out of his mouth and seeing him look at me like I was his whole world didn’t make me want to run. It made me want to stay. We had a lot to resolve between us, but at the end of the day, it had always been…and would always be…Jeremy fricking Holland. I could have it all. The inn. The man. The life I’d always wanted.
And suddenly, it didn’t seem too crazy to let myself feel that way.
“I love you, too,” I said, my voice more of a whisper than anything.
His eyes widened. “What?”
“I love you,” I said again, this time with more strength behind the words. “But I’m still mad at you for lying to me,” I added for good measure.
He laughed, and he kissed me again, this time in a promise of forever, and of what was to come. And I believed every single second of it. I’d finally found my home.
It was with him, in Maine, all along.