Page 122 of Lucky's Trouble

“I was so convinced you would, but it’s been a month since the incident and you still haven’t. I already said it, and I won’t say it again until you do. I thought I could be patient, but every day that goes by and I don’t hear it makes me feel like maybe I was wrong.”

God, this woman is infuriating. I want to shake her and kiss her all at the same time.

“What haven’t I said?” I ask again, visions of Cy knocking me over the head with a mallet running through my mind.

“That you love me.”

I tilt my head and narrow my eyes on her because maybe that goose egg to her forehead a couple months ago did more damage than we thought.

“Never mind. I’m sorry I brought it up.” She shoves off the counter, narrowly missing my junk with her knees. “This isn’t me. I’m not this girl, and I refuse to become her.”

“Tinleigh,” I call out, but she doesn’t stop until she’s at the front door and pushing her feet into my ugly slippers. She looks ridiculous since my shoes are as long as her legs are, but it doesn’t stop her from walking out the door. “Goddamn it.”

Still in only a towel, I jog after her, nodding to Jensen, who’s bundled up on his porch with his computer on his lap. He bites back a smile, but I see it and flip him off.

“Tinleigh, wait.” Fall is in full swing now, and the air is so cold that my body sucks my balls into my stomach and my dick turtlenecks, trying to hide away from the chill. I finally catch up to her, gripping her by the arms and turning her to face me, but not before losing my towel twice, giving Jensen quite the show. Mustang’ll be pissed about that one. “Goddamn it. Hold on.” I hurriedly secure my towel again.

“What?” she pouts.

“How do you not know I love you?”

“How would I?” she asks incredulously.

“Back when we were in that basement, you told Pet I loved you. How could you know it then and not now?” It strikes me how stupid it is that Pet has been here at the clubhouse for a month and still won’t tell anyone her name. It’s hard to find resources for someone when they won’t cooperate.

“I was only telling her that so she wouldn’t shoot me.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh.” She throws her arms out to the side.

“Tinleigh, I love you. I’m sorry I haven’t said it enough—”

“At all,” she corrects.

I grin. “At all. I just thought you knew the same way I know you love me.”

“Yeah, you know because I said it.”

I twist my head to the side. “Did you though?”

“Yes.”

“Liar,” I accuse. “You said, ‘I love y-your ass in those jeans’.”

“But you knew what I meant.”

“And I thought you knew what I meant each time I brought home flowers, or when I allowed your sister to sleep ten feet from where we sleep every night for a month, or when I sit still while you play hairdresser with my beard each morning, or when I make sure there’s hot coffee for you in the morning, or when I don’t get pissed you stuck my dick in mashed potatoes, or how about when I put you in my will and give you access to my bank accounts?”

“I do stuff for you, too,” she says.

“Fuck me.” I run a hand down my beard. “I know you do, which is why I know you love me.”

“I really do.” She sniffles. “Say it again.”

I weave my fingers into her hair and tip her head up, leaning over to press my forehead to hers. “I love you, Tinleigh. I don’t know how I could’ve possibly made that clearer, but from the very moment I saw you on that stage and you pulled my licorice from my mouth with your teeth, I knew I was gonna love you. The next day, when I slammed you against the wall in my parents’ bathroom, I was already falling, but it was when I lost you that I knew without a doubt that I was head over heels in love with you, and I always will be.”

“Promise?”

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