Page 127 of Mensa's Match

Mensa stood there, leaning against the counter. “You didn’t read the bottom patch, did you?”

I blinked. “No. This is the largest patch I’ve ever had to sew.”

He tipped his head to the machine. “The bottom rocker tells you every thing you need to know, babe.”

I pressed my lips together as a warm sensation bloomed in my belly. Ever so carefully, I lifted the bottom hem of the cutand saw the large rocker. Stitched with deep gold thread in Old English style font was the name,Mensa.

“You really want me to sew my own patch on? That’s like the ultimate pressure.”

“Not like this will be a secret from you. Getting to sew it on yourself gives it that much more meaning.”

“And I think he’s right!” Aunt Nadia hollered from the back office.

Mensa lowered his voice. “You need to use weaker batteries in her hearing aids.”

I laughed. “She doesn’t wear them.”

“What don’t I wear?” she called out.

“Don’t worry about it,” I hollered over my shoulder.

“I wanted to be able to surprise you… and this is better than giving you the cut in front of a big audience at the clubhouse.”

“Why don’t I hear the sewing machine running?” Nadia asked, and she was standing right behind Mensa. “Move it, Whitney Janelle. I’ll get this done for you… consider it an early wedding gift.”

My brows drew together. “I thought you wanted me to up my game.”

She waved her hand at me. “You’ll get to up your game starting tomorrow because mark my words, this is thelastcut I’m sewing for anybody. I’m just thrilled I get to do one for someone I love.”

I felt tears well in my eyes. “Aunt Nadia! You can’t sneak attack me with the sweet stuff. I love you.”

“Love you, too, but get outta here so I can concentrate. And no necking in the back.”

Mensa came back to the shop at five-thirty-one.Rightafter Aunt Nadia had left. “Did she get it done?”

I grinned. “Yes.”

His eyes gleamed with pride and desire. “Then you’re leaving your car here, putting on that cut, and riding back to the house on the back of my bike.”

I cocked my head. “It’s only fifteen minutes from here to the house, honey.”

He came closer. “I didn’t say we were headed straight to the house, Blume… there might be a detour along the way.”

Once I grabbed my purse, I shrugged into my cut. The scent of brand new leather was almost overwhelming… or maybe it was the feeling of wearing something that carried so much meaning to my man.

He hummed his approval, deep and gravelly. Then he held me tight to his body, kissed me long and hard, bending me over his arm. He broke the kiss, but didn’t pull his face back very far. “Never thought you could get more gorgeous, but I was wrong.”

“You wanna know something, handsome?”

His lips tipped up. “What?”

“I’m wrong.”

He shook his head and straightened. “What are you talking about?”

I grinned, went up on my toes, and pecked his lips. “Every time I think I can’t love you more, you prove me wrong. I hope you keep doing it for the rest of our lives. Let’s ride, because I can’t wait to get on your bike wearing your patch.”

---