Page 104 of Doc Showmance
“I’d like that. Can we have a moment off camera right now, though?”
I waved her into an empty office and closed the door in the cameraperson’s face. I made sure the shades were closed before facing her.
She pulled my lips down to hers for a brief kiss. “I want to be clear on this. I want you forever, not just to be a groupie that meets you on location. I’m going to pursue my dreams just like you’re going to go after yours. We’ll make it work, and we won’t be apart all the time. There will be holidays. The big ones are sacred—Christmas, Thanksgiving, and Valentine’s Day.”
“Valentine’s Day?”
“You’re going to make up for that botched bouquet delivery in vet school for many years to come. In exchange, I’m going to rewrite your expectations of Thanksgiving and Christmas, maybe even Easter. Tell me you did egg hunts in your house on Easter morning as a kid?”
I shook my head.
“No egg hunts? I’ll make it happen this year. We haven’t done one in a long time, but you haven’t lived until you’ve hunted for the golden egg inside the house. I happen to be on excellent terms with the Easter bunny.” She put her hand on my chest. “We’ve got lots of memories to make. Good ones. You need people you can trust. You need a family.”
I bit back a gasp at hearing the future on her lips, the picture she was painting. “Are you saying you want to be my family? That you want this for good?”
“For good?” she frowned and shook her head. “That sounds sterile. I want everything. The fights, the pain, the egg hunts, and the crazy good sex. I want to see your weaknesses and flaws, not the plastic smile. I might even try to figure out how to handle your family in a way to teach them they need to treat you with the respect you deserve.”
“I love you,” I told her again. “I didn’t think I was capable of saying that or feeling it, but that’s what this is.”
“I couldn’t say it, either. I had to be sure of you.”
“Are you sure?” I slipped an arm around her waist.
“Yes. Mostly, I’m sure of myself. I discovered I couldn’t let you go. You need me, and I want to be that person for you.” She stared up at me with those brown eyes full of the possessiveness I’d never thought I wanted from a woman, but it turned me on.
“You need me, too. To force you to lighten up, protect you from crazy colleagues, and to create opportunities to become great.”
“You might be right.”
“You’re sayingI’m right?Mark this day in the record books. She said I’m right for the second time.” I chuckled. “Where’s a camera when you need one?” I roped her in for a kiss.
She craned away. “I already am great.” She pulled my forehead down to rest hers against mine and whispered, “But I’m better with you.”
Epilogue
Amber
The stockings rested in an organized, overstuffed line across the sofa. They were my Christmas stuffing masterpieces that I’d filled to the brim last night so that if anyone beat me to waking up this morning it’d look like Santa arrived. I loved faux magical moments like this.
The stocking I’d hand-stitched Ian’s name onto only held one present in it. A big gift, in my opinion. I had another bag of wrapped stocking stuffers behind the sofa once I got the big one out of the way.
Hard to believe it’d been a year since I flew to South Africa. Pinot put his paw on my foot for attention. I leaned down and gave him a head scratch. “Your stocking is over there, too, but don’t tell the other dogs that they have to share the communal pets’ stocking.”
“You seem a decent fellow. I hate to kill you,” Fred screeched from his corner in the living room.
“That bird is both hilarious and annoying.” Joley handed me a cup of coffee and put an arm around me. “He said he’d be here before all of us woke up.”
I hid my disappointment. “Ian missed his first flight from China. I’m not sure if he’ll be back later today or tomorrow.”
“He’ll be here. He’s never not lived up to his word from the moment he committed to you. That’s one thing I admire about him.”
“Are we doing this stocking thing or what?” Bruno rubbed his hands together. He wore a pair of flannel sleep pants and nothing else. “Where’s the music?” He scrolled on the TV to find a yule log with cheesy classic Christmas music. “Better.”
“Wouldn’t be Christmas without Bing Crosby.” I smiled and sipped the coffee.
Bruno asked, “Where’s Marino? It’s six thirty. Is he delusional enough to think he gets to sleep in?” He stormed down the hall and banged on Marino’s bedroom door. “Get up. I need to open my gifts. Then I have this idea for breakfast I want to try.”
Joley muttered, “Lordy, let that man stay away from the eggnog this year.”
