Page 49 of Cupcake

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“Brady, we need to get to work,” I said, looking behind me as he dragged me up the street.

“We will, but we have plenty of time. I want to show you something,” he said, his hand warm and tight in mine.

The lake came into view, and I shook my head in exasperation. “I’ve seen the lake before, Brady.”

“I know you have, but have you seen it at one a.m. when the stars look like they’re touching the water and the moon has rested its beam across the glassy surface.”

“Well, when you put it like that,” I said on a sigh as he pulled me under a giant oak tree with an overhang nearly to the ground. “It is pretty amazing,” I said, gazing out at it as he held me from behind, his back against the tree and me tight to his chest. “You can almost count the stars.”

His hand shot out at a light that was streaking through the sky. I followed his finger as he moved it toward the water. “Make a wish on the shooting star.”

I leaned my head back against his shoulder and sighed. “I think my wish came true already. I was just too stupid to realize it sooner.”

“What was your wish?” he asked, nuzzling my neck.

“To find someone to seriously date by the time I was thirty.”

“Seriously date?” he asked in confusion. “Versus?”

“Casually date or whatever,” I said, suddenly unsure of myself.

“Are we seriously dating, cupcake?”

I turned and slapped my hand against his chest. “Why do you keep calling me cupcake when I tell you all the time to stop? It’s very disrespectful,” I said, changing the subject, incredibly self-aware that I’d put my foot in my mouth again.

“I’m not being disrespectful when I call you cupcake. I’m doing what I said I’d do from the beginning.”

“Piss me off?” I asked, confused.

He smiled and kissed the tip of my nose. “No, show you your worth.”

“And calling me cupcake, when it’s a derogatory name I don’t like, accomplishes that?”

“Let me ask you this. How do you feel when Darla calls you a fluffy cupcake?”

“Angry, sad, disrespected, and undeserving of my success.”

He grasped my hand and held it to his chest. “All valid feelings, I agree. How do you feel when I say,fuck me harder, cupcakein your ear every night?”

I squirmed, but he wouldn’t let go of my hand or let me turn away. “I guess I feel the opposite. Happy, respected, and deserving of your time and attention.”

“How do you feel when I teasingly say, pass me the flour, cupcake?”

“The same?” I asked, and he grasped my chin, planting a light kiss on my lips.

“Question or statement?”

“Statement,” I said. “I know that’s how I feel, but I don’t know where this is going.”

“It’s going exactly where I wanted it to go. I call you cupcake to show you that depending on who says it, and in what way, you can have different emotions about it. If you let Darla’s connotation of the name be the only emotions you feel, then she wins. If you let my connotation of the name be the only emotions you feel, then you win. I call you cupcake because I respect the hell out of you, Haylee Davis. To me, when I call you that, it’s a name filled with the utmost love and respect. That said, if you still don’t like it, I’ll stop.”

I swung my head back and forth a few times, trying to blink back the tears in my eyes from his sweet admission. “Now that you’ve explained it, I see very plainly what you were doing. I just didn’t realize how much it would matter to me to hear your explanation.” I leaned my head against his shoulder, and he hugged me, his lips finding my ear to kiss before his teeth tugged on the lobe. “Wait. Love and respect?” I asked, lifting my head to stare into his eyes. “You meant that in a friend kind of way, right?”

He shook his head, barely enough for me to notice. “No, I meant in the I love you, kind of way, Haylee. It took me about one second after I kissed you to know that the crush I’d had on you all these years wasn’t about sex. I know you felt it, too. It was fire.” I nodded, swallowing hard when he balanced his forehead against mine. “When I realized that kissing you in the bakery made you nervous, I just wanted to make it right. I wanted you to know that I respected you and your business. When I sank into you the first time that night, God,” he whispered, his eyes gazing at my lips. “I was just a goner, cupcake. Still am. Always will be for you.”

Rather than let me speak, his lips captured mine in what I expected to be a hard kiss of desire and passion. Instead, it was gentle, flowing, and rippling like the lake behind us while he showed me with his body that his words were true.

He loved me.