Page 33 of Love Takes Home

“I’m showing you how beautiful you are.”

“Don’t fuck with me, Joker.” The tremor in her voice gives me pause, but this is something I have to do.

“Not fucking with you, Ginny. Just showing you my truth.”

Chapter 11

Ginny

I squeeze my eyesclosed, hiding myself from the mirror in front of me. I don’t know what he has planned, but I don’t think I can handle it.

“Open them up, Beautiful,” he softly commands from behind me. I can feel his body heat, even though he’s not touching me.

There’s no way he thinks I’m beautiful. Why is he continuing to use this joke against me?

“Every time you try to tell yourself that I’m lying, I’m going to be here to remind you that I’m not. You, Virginia Mills, are beautiful.”

“Yeah, okay.”

“Why are you so hard on yourself? Why do you treat yourself so horribly?”

“You wouldn’t understand.”

“Try me. Tell me what you see when you look in the mirror.”

I look at myself. “My hair is a mess, my face is too round, my boobs sag, the fat roll around my middle makes me look dumpy, and I have more dimples in my thighs than a kindergarten class picture. Is that what you want to hear?”

“Not at all. Can I tell you what I see?”

“I’d really prefer you didn’t.”

“Tough.” He smiles at me through the mirror. “Let me have this.”

“Not like it’ll change anything,” I mumble to myself. “I’ll still be me and you’ll still be you, and that’ll never happen.”

“I see a talented, intelligent, funny, caring, and loving woman.”

“None of that has to do with my body.”

“Hush. I’m getting there. Don’t rush this.”

He raises his hand like he’s going to touch me, and the butterflies in my stomach take flight, my heart is running a marathon, and the goosebumps on my arms have goosebumps.

“Ginny, can I touch you?”

Without a word, because I seem to be unable to form those right now, I nod.

He lifts the ends of my hair and, oh my God,sniffsit! “You always have this scent that makes my mouth water. It’s like sugar cookies and strawberries. Yes, your hair is a mess. But it’s a beautiful mess. It looks like you’ve always just rolled out of bed after the best sex of your life, and I just want to knot my fingers in it and pull you close.”

I shiver at his words, my eyes locked on him.

“Your face?” He runs his knuckles down my cheek, heating my skin. “Blushes such a nice pink. And when you smile, your eyes crinkle and shine. Your emotions are on your face, and if it were any different, you wouldn’t be you. It’s perfect.”

I’m standing stock still, afraid to move. Or breathe. Because when I do, I’m surrounded byJoker. Fresh pine and clean air,reminding me of sitting on the porch at the cabin. It clears my mind and settles my soul. I watch the man standing behind me, the square line of his jaw. The small tick on the right side where he’s clenching, restraining from doing or saying what he wants. His nose is a little crooked, like it’s been broken a time or two, making him look a little dangerous. And his eyes? Fuck me, if those aren’t windows into a soul that is both dark and light. His shoulders are strong, but not bulky, and his arms are every woman’s fantasy—strong, defined, that one vein running from his wrist to his elbow that draws the eye.

“You done looking at me, Beautiful?” The smirk alone is enough to make me blush, but the eyebrow raise makes my breath catch. I nod. It’s all I can do. “Your thoughts are screaming awfully loud, you know.”

“What are they saying?”

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