" Okay,” Max said. “Now I’m terrified that I, um, said it too late?”
His uncertainty turned his words into a question. “Am I too late?” he asked again, as if he actually thought . . .
As much as Gina enjoyed watching him squirm, she forced her lungs and vocal cords to start working again. “Are you . . .” She had to clear her throat, but then it really didn’t matter what she said, because the tears in her eyes surely told him everything he wanted to hear.
She saw his relief, and yes, he was still scared, she saw that, too, but mixed in with that was hope. And something that looked a heck of a lot like happiness.
Happiness—in Max’s eyes.
“Are you really asking me for a second chance?” she managed to get it all out in a breathless exhale.
He kissed her then, as if he couldn’t bear to stand so close and not kiss her. “Please,” he breathed, as he kissed her again, as he licked his way into her mouth and . . . God . . .
She could’ve stood there, kissing Max forever, but the man on the megaphone just shouldn’t shut up.
Besides, she wanted to be sure that this was about more than just sex.
“Do you want me in your life?” Gina asked him. “I mean, need is nice, but . . .” It implied a certain lack of free will. Want on the other hand . . .
“Want,” he said. “Yes. I want you. Very much. In my life. Gina, I was lost without you.” He caught himself. “More lost, or . . .” He shook his head. “Fuck it, I’m a mess, but if for some reason you still love me anyway . . . If you really meant what you said, about . . .” There it was gain, in his eyes. Hope. “Loving me anyway . . .”
“I don’t love you anyway,” she told him, her heart in her throat. “I love you because.” She touched his face, his smoothly shaven cheeks. “Although now that you mention it, you are something of a mess, and I’m probably entitled to . . . compensation in certain areas. I mean, in any relationship, you need to negotiate a certain amount of compromise, right?”
He actually thought she was serious. “Well, yeah.”
“So if, say, I were to point out how incredibly hot you’d look wearing that thong—”
Max laughed his relief. “Shit, I thought you were serious.”
“Shit,” Gina teased. “I am.”
He cupped her face between both of his hands, and the heat in his eyes made her knees weak. “I’ll wear one if you wear one . . . "

― Suzanne Brockmann , Breaking Point (Troubleshooters, #9)