Actually saying the words made Foreman's heart ache. Acknowledging what he felt crystallized his emotions, made him realize that he meant it in a way he hadn't so much as suspected. He knew it should be scary as hell, and it was, but in a distant way that couldn't touch his happiness. The brightness of Amber's eyes that might be tears closed his throat. She was so fiercely independent, nearly standoffish at times, reserving the moments of true openness for when they were alone, like this. But even then, she'd tried to close herself off from him when she cried. This time, Foreman had no sense that she wanted to shrug off and ignore her emotions, and it made him feel just as strongly.

He laughed out loud when she twisted underneath him, and let her wriggle free. It was either allow her to manhandle him or suffer the consequences--he'd still been inside her, even if his erection had softened somewhat, and if she'd turned like that without his cooperation it wouldn't have ended well. He landed on his back, and, since Amber was propping herself up above him, let his own arms fall slack behind his head. Open, raising his chin slightly as if he was baring his throat to her; showing how easily he was hers. His smile was still firmly, probably sappily, plastered across his face, but he couldn't hide it. Hell, he didn't want to hide it. All his affection rose up, and Foreman met Amber's eyes, finding any way he could to let her know. "Yeah," he said, his voice rough.

His pulse was still racing. He wished it was this easy; declare his feelings, and trust in hers, and leave it at that. But now that the words were out, he wondered what Amber's expectations were--that they'd never fight again? That he'd give in even more easily than he had? No. God, he had to get his mind out of those miserable tracks. They'd proved they could move past something. Keep working on their problems. "I didn't know," he confessed quietly, his mouth still insistently curving into a smile. "You don't know what you do to me."