Never before had he felt this perfect contentment while merely lying next to a woman. Sure, there wasn’t much he loved more than fucking Mickie, but at that moment, though he felt desire for her, it was different than usual. They’d have plenty of time to sate their physical urges. Tomorrow, the next day, the day after that. Hell, they could spend the entire weekend in bed, gorging themselves on each other.
Right then, he wanted nothing more than to be next to her as he drifted back to sleep. To know his body provided her warmth when she snuggled close. That his presence made her feel safe, as she’d told him on more than one occasion. And that the first thing he’d see when he woke was the smile on her face.
The writing had been on the wall for weeks, he’d only been ignoring the print. He was in love with her. Head over fucking heels in love with Michaela Hudson.
For the first time since he’d met her, the clawing fear of losing her didn’t catch him in its iron grasp. He believed her reassurances tonight when she said she loved Vermont and had no plans to return to Hollywood.
Now he only had to find a way to tell her because she deserved so much more than him shouting it out while inside her or blurting it at breakfast.
She deserved the world.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
MICKIE INHALED THE crisp, frosty air as she tugged a fluffy scarf tighter around her neck. Her lungs burned with an icy fire as they filled with the frigid, thirty-six-degree air. It’d been more than a decade since she’d been in the presence of snow or such a cold winter. The knee-length down jacket she’d purchased last month had quickly become her new best friend, along with the wool beanie, thick gloves, scarf, and UGG snow boots.
Mickie strolled through the freshly fallen snow on a walking trail she could barely make out. Aside from her and one snowshoer trudging his way through the trees, the park was blessedly deserted. A small plow must have come through at some point because only a few inches dusted the walking path. At least eight inches of undisturbed, sparkling white snow blanketed the rest of the park closest to her house.
The tip of her nose stung and her cheeks burned, wind-chapped from the hour she’d been wandering outside. Soon, she’d need to return to her car and the luxurious heated seats, but for now, she adored the way her body shivered and her eyes watered from the cold.
Most would probably think her nuts, but she’d have stayed out there all day if she could. Something about the pristine, untouched, shimmering snow spoke to her soul. It was clean and fresh. A blank canvas. Maybe that’s what resonated with her. She felt a kinship to Mother Nature’s efforts to cover up the fallen leaves and dormant grass of autumn with something pure and fresh.
Beyond soaking up nature’s beauty, the peace and quiet of being alone had given her time to think. Over the past week, her relationship with Keith had shifted. He’d been less reluctant to speak of the future, more open to making plans down the line, and less hesitant to mention her life in Hollywood. Hopefully, it meant her time and patience had paid off, and he’d finally begun to believe she wouldn’t steal away in the middle of the night.
Holding back from telling him she loved with him had become near impossible. If she bit her tongue any harder in his presence, she was going to draw blood.
Maybe it was time to stop playing it safe. Perhaps if she told Keith she loved him, it would kill the last of his apprehension.
The appearance of another bundled individual walking her way had her smiling. Were they another wounded soul seeking mental clarity in the splendor of nature? She lifted her hand, ready to greet the newcomer with a friendly wave.
As she opened her fingers, the smile slipped right off her face. If she thought she’d been cold before, she’d been dead wrong. Ice slithered through her veins and down her spine, making her freeze in place.
She blinked. It couldn’t be. She had to be hallucinating.
Mark Degrasse, Scarlett’s manager of six years, strode straight toward her. The man had lost his shit when she’d walked away from her career, threatening her with lawsuits, tabloid exposés, and promising he’d track her down. It seemed he’d made good on that threat. Over the years, the man had made many millions of dollars off her hard work, and he hadn’t handled the loss of his golden goose well.
“Scarlett!” he said, holding out his arms to her as though the last words he’d spoken to her hadn’t been, “Without me, you’re nothing but a worthless junkie. I give you five months before you’re crawling back to me on your knees.”