Page 142 of Terror Tuesday
I gather the cups and place them out while he finishes making it. Black for me. Lots of sugar for him.
The sweatshirt is so big on me, I can pull my knees to my chest and perch on a chair with them tucked under the soft fabric. When he serves my hot cup of caffeine, I think I fall more in love with him.
“You too tired to pick out paint colors today?” he asks, like we didn’t just try to assassinate a president.
“Are you trying to make me forget what happened?”
“I guess I’m trying to talk about something other than death for once.”
“I hope someday we can talk about puppies in the mornings…”
He murmurs something low.
“What was that?” I ask.
His lashes flutter as he lifts some devilish green eyes up to my face. My belly flips when he gives me a dimpled grin. “Or babies.”
I purse my lips to keep from smiling. “Someday.”
He reaches across the table and threads his hand with mine. “Then help me pick out some, uh,puppywallpaper for one of the rooms down the hall.”
“Only if I can bring my coffee.”
As if insulted, he rears his head back. “Uh…of course. You’re not pryingmineout of my hands either, my queen.”
We stroll hip to hip around to the various bedrooms in the wing and find some that are in good shape. “My closet. And also mine,” I tell him with a firm nod.
“Fine. All I need is one of those egg crates for my underwear anyway.”
“I’m going to force you to change your hoodie once a day,” I say with a stern look.
He shrugs. “Or I’ll just walk around without one.”
I consider his answer, gazing at his abs. “Deal.”
Finally, we reach a rounded room, topped with an intact turret. It’s cozy, gets all the light from the east, and I can envision a future there…if we decide on kids. When I turn around from the windows, Valen’s leaning against the doorway, looking fucking fine, sipping his coffee and eyeing me.
“Will you say it again?” he asks me with vulnerability resting in his gaze.
“Say what again?”
He looks at the wood floor, shuffles a foot for a moment, then back at me, but his mouth doesn’t part to answer. Then it dawns on me what he’s asking for…
I set my cup down on the windowsill and slowly walk toward him, stopping just in front of his chest. One of his arms snakes around my waist to pull me closer. My head tilts up until our lips are close, our breaths mingling together. Lacing my fingers through his hair, I whisper, “I love you, V.”
His expression softens as he kisses me gently, for only a second, before pulling back. “I love you.”
The thing I think he needs to hear most is something I learned about him last night. “And…I trust you.”
Eyes squeezed tightly shut, he seems to saturate in the validity of what I said. “Fuck. You have no idea how amazing that feels. To love you and you love me and to trust each other…I’ve dreamed of this moment for years.” His gaze flashes to mine. “And now you’re here.”
“Always.” I’m exactly where I want to be. Andappointedto the perfect man for me.
He glances out the window, and I follow his gaze. “Out there…” Wandering closer, he points to a large area of overgrown grass.
“Over there what? A pool? Garden?”
When he flips his head back to me, he smirks. “The putt-putt course I’m kicking your ass on.”
