The elevator doors hiss open to the penthouse. For the first time in six hours, the silence is total.
I take off my coat and kick off my low heels at the entrance, letting out a long, contented sigh as my toes meet the cool hardwood.
Locke slips his heavy leather cut off his shoulders, hanging it carefully on the coat rack near the door before turning back to me.
“You doing alright?” he asks, “Feeling okay, baby?”
“Better than alright, way better than okay,” I say, stepping toward him. “My feet ache, my jaw hurts from laughing so much, and I think my heart is actually too full to fit inside my chest.”
Locke lets out a low, rumbling laugh, reaching down to gather me into his arms. He lifts me effortlessly, shifting my weight so I’m cradled against his broad chest as he carries me acros
