Page 21 of Saving Her Curves

“Good,” she said, meeting his mouth as he lowered his head. “I miss you always, too.”

Silence reigned as they kissed each other hello. Their lips touched, and melted into each other. Soon their tongues were tangling together as they let their passion run free. Hands and lips, tongue and teeth told the other how much each was wanted.

Finally, they stopped kissing, but kept their arms around each other. “What are you making for dinner?” Hank asked, his mouth finding the sensitive skin beneath her ear.

“Soup,” Skye replied, sighing as he nibbled and licked her ear lobe.

“Good.” Another kiss and then he was pulling away.

“Wait,” she protested, then stopped when she realized he was going to the stove to turn off the burner.

“Oh,” she squealed as he turned, putting his shoulder to her stomach, and lifting her like a sack of potatoes. Long, swift strides had them in the bedroom in a matter of minutes. He sat her on the edge of the bed, then kneeled beside her.

Skye’s eyebrow arched, asking an unspoken question. Usually, this was the start of him burying his face between her thighs. “Later,” he grinned. “First things, first.”

He drew in a deep breath before beginning. “Skye, I know we haven’t known each other very long.”

It had, in fact, only been about six months since they had officially started dating.

Skye laughed softly, her hand coming out to caress his jaw. “We’ve already discussed me moving in, Hank. You know I want to.” She gave him a very naughty look. “And yes, I do want to have sex. Right now.”

Hank frowned. “Has anyone told you, you are a very impatient woman.”

“Yes,” Skye giggled, reaching for his belt, and what lay beneath it.

Hank growled, but didn’t stop her ministrations. He felt the zipper of his uniform pants lower before he remembered what he needed to do. “Let me finish woman.”

“Oh, we’ll definitely finish,” Skye teased.

Hank dug into his now overly tight pants and pulled out a small box. “This is for you.”

Skye let go of his pants, her eyes widening when she saw the box. She knew instantly that he had made the box by hand. The craftsmanship was amazing. “Oh, Hank. This is beautiful.”

“Open it.”

She wasn’t nervous that this might be a proposal. They had discussed moving in together, but nothing else. When she opened her eyes, they filled with tears.

Inside was a small wooden deer. Not only had it been hand carved, but it had been painted a soft, translucent white, the craftsmanship so perfectly done that it looked like shimmering fur.

“Hank.” She whispered his name as she held the beautifully created piece.

He covered her hand with his. “I thought, maybe, we could add it to your mother’s necklace.” On the deer’s back was a tiny hook, just big enough to run a silver chain through.

“That’s a wonderful idea,” she cried out, her hand touching the silver circle she wore around her neck. A dream catcher. Her eyes filled with tears. Her dream of finding someone to share her life had come true.

“And,” he continued, having reached into his pocket again while she wasn’t looking. He presented her with a velvet covered box. “Maybe, you can wear this as well?”

His face was inches from hers, his eyes dark and intent. “I love you, Skye Whitefeather,” he said, his voice ragged. “You make me believe in myself. You make me believe that good things are possible and that magic exists in this world. Please marry me.”

And Skye knew, as she clutched the small, white wooden deer in one hand and held out the other toward him, that there could be only one answer.

“Yes,” she whispered, allowing him to slip the ring on her finger before wrapping her arms around him tightly. “Oh, yes.”

Townsend, Tennessee…one month later.

“I never thought I’d see this day.”

“You never thought I’d find a woman willing to marry me?”

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