The laughter started low in her throat, bubbling out the longer I rambled. Finally, she took pity on me and laid a hand over my mouth. "Stop."
I kissed her fingers. "Okay."
"Why'd you make that?" she asked quietly. "The movie."
"Because there needs to be a record somewhere," I told her. "There should be proof, undeniable proof, of the very best thing I've ever achieved in my life." I wrapped my arms around her back and lifted her up in my arms so I could whisper where no one but us would hear. "Falling in love with you is the greatest thing I've ever done, Molly Ward."
Her arms were so tight around my neck that I felt the way her body trembled. Within the circle of my arms, she let out a sob of relief. "I love you too," she whispered back.
In the next moment, her mouth was on mine, hard and sweet and deep. The fierce fullness of the kiss pulled a groan from my chest, and she wrapped her legs around my waist so she could hold tighter and move more firmly against me.
I wanted her.
I loved her.
She loved me.
And, I thought as I froze, we were being filmed. I pulled back, and she followed with a whimper.
"Camera," I said against her lips.
Molly went still, another bright smile spreading over her face. "Oh, yeah."
"But as soon as we chase them out of here …" I promised with a growl.
She hopped out of my arms and called for Rick to come upstairs.
I glanced over at Marty, who was wiping tears from his face unabashedly.
Rick skipped lightly up the steps. "You called?"
"Yes," she said. "You and I have to talk tomorrow morning. But right now, you need to leave."
His face creased in confusion. "Tomorrow morning?"
Molly nodded, herding them gently toward the door. "Yes. I have a job proposal to go over with you. I think you should hire me."
My eyebrows popped up in surprise. So did his.
"He says yes!" Marty interjected as he hastily started wrapping up cords.
Rick gave him a look. "Tomorrow," he promised. "But can't we, I don't know, film a little happy cuddling?"
"No," Molly and I answered.
"We have other things to discuss," Rick said. "A lot has happened this week. You don't even know about our new idea!"
"Out. Or I will start stripping," she warned. "And that will make my future employment awkward. And you'd violate the nudity clause if you film me in any state of undress."
My head tilted back on a booming laugh, and Rick gave me an exasperated look.
In another two seconds, she had them out the door, and the deadbolts flipped decisively. I set my hands on my hips as she turned, her back flush against the door's surface.
"Now," she said, "let's recap."
"Okay." I stepped closer to her.
"I'm your girlfriend."
"Yes." My hands found her hips.
"You're my boyfriend."
"Mmmhmm." My lips found the soft curve of her neck.
"W-we're finally alone. With no cameras. Or microphones. Or family members under the same roof." Her fingers pushed under the soft cotton of my shirt, and I hissed when she trailed them along the edge of my shorts.
"That's correct." I bit down on the delicate line of her collarbone, soothing it with my tongue when she moaned.
"You love me," she said quietly.
I pulled back and held her gaze steadily. "I do."
"And I love you," she finished.
My voice was rough when I was finally able to speak. "Yeah."
"That's good. I like all of that."
I smiled. "How should we celebrate? Every big win needs a big celebration."
"Like …" She dropped her voice like a sports announcer. "You just won the Super Bowl, what will you do next?"
"We're not going to Disneyland, sweetheart," I promised. But the fact that she could bring me to the edge of laughter in a moment so laden with sexual tension, so rife with want and desperation to take, take, take, was how I knew that Molly was the exact right person for me.
She inhaled with a satisfied smile pulling up the edges of her lips. "Take me to your big bed, in your big room, because we are about to break it in, Noah Griffin."
I swept her in my arms, relishing in the happy shriek that left her mouth. "You're the boss."
We stayed there all day and all night, only stopping briefly for food. A shower. And endless conversations. The playbook was probably still lying open in a useless heap on the dining room table. But that was the point.