I lean over, tug the sheet away from her body, and press a chaste kiss to her lips. “I’m not asking you to moving in for the sake of convenience. I’m asking you to move in because I want to take the next step. It’s fast. I know. But I love you, and you love me, so this is next. We can do this.”
She’s fighting hard not to grin. Sure it’s crazy to move in after only being in a committed relationship for a week, but we’ve been together for over a couple of months. Even when we were split up, she consumed me, so we might as well be living under the same roof. It would definitely make my life better.
“What happens if I say no?” she asks, failing miserably in her attempt not to grin.
As she stands, I lean back, watching her naked body slowly become clothed under a white sundress. Innocent mischief; it’s an oxymoron to most. To me, it’s the girl I love.
“I torture you until you say yes,” I say absently, smiling as she goes to grab the top drawer.
She grabs those sweet cotton panties, and I grin like a fool as she slides them on under her dress. Then she grabs a white strapless bra and pulls down the straps of her dress to put it on.
We’re never leaving this room.
“Stop,” she giggles when I try to wrap her up in my arms.
“Then stop teasing me with a reverse striptease and answer my question.”
She sighs playfully, feigning exasperation as she reaches a hand up and tugs on my neck.
“What happens if I say yes?”
I grin as I start pressing small kisses on her neck, and she arches to lean into me.
“Then I torture you daily, but it’ll be fun.”
She laughs, and the sound vibrates throughout me. I wonder how long it’ll feel this good, because I’m pretty sure it’s going to be impossible to ever get anything done if it’s always like this.
“Then yes,” she says at last, and I spin her in my arms to kiss her hard, pressing her up against the dresser and silently counting how many times I’ve had her right here.
It’s not enough. One more time is necessary.
“No,” she says through a laugh. “Guests. You have guests.”
“We have guests. You live here now, too,” I remind her, enjoying the way that sweet blush creeps across her cheeks.
“Well, our guests are waiting on us. Go on while I finish getting dressed.”
I pout, but she shoves me out, somehow managing to withstand the power of my puckered lips. But I’m grinning when I walk out.
Dad is talking with a woman when I reach the outside, and he nods in my direction while smiling. Looks like Ash is still trying to play matchmaker, but at least this woman is my dad’s age.
I smile back at him, and he takes a breath that appears to be easy. Everything is so much easier. I never thought it was possible. The relationship I have with my father is by no means a normal one. Not yet. Possibly not ever. But I can stand to be around him, and he’s coming out of the house more.
I guess he decided if I was going to start healing, then it was okay for him to start healing, too.
Wren walks up with a small girl at his side, and I grin at the kid who looks so much like Wren and his family.
“You must be Angel,” I say, kneeling in front of the little girl.
&nb
sp; She nods and says, “You must be the guy with tattoos my momma stitched up.”
I thought she was six. She looks six.
She points to the small scar on my hand, and I nod.
“Yeah,” I say, confused as I look up at Wren.