Page 61 of Colton's Secret Weapon
“Sex is a part of nature, Mitchell,” she said then, moving to the refrigerator to pull out the container housing her bizarre grasslike breakfast. “Our bodies are designed to need it. Just like they require—” she held up the container “—food.”
He should have been elated by her response. Instead, while he was pleased that she was in a good mood, he felt a little deflated.
Grabbing a fork, she stood there and took a bite of the same unusual meal she’d had the other two mornings they’d spent together. Then, swallowing, she glanced up at him, with an almost otherworldly smile on her face, like she had some kind of great secret. “But we did it in a pretty phenomenal way, huh?”
To which Mitchell said, “We sure did,” and hightailed it out of there.
Before he was tempted to throw caution to the wind and ask her for a repeat performance on the kitchen floor.
Chapter 18
She wanted him again. And again. And again.
More so, and much worse, she didn’t want him to leave his house. Ever. Didn’t want him out there in the world where other women could ogle him. And want him, too.
Which made her the absolute worst human being on earth. A failure on all spiritual levels.
Selfish to the core.
A fraud.
Eating her greens—still holding out hope that their intuitive properties would help her right herself—Dove paced the kitchen, waiting for Mitchell to finish his shower and get her out of there.
Away from infernal temptation.
Him in the shower…water sluicing all over every inch of the body that she hadn’t had nearly enough time with…a specimen of nature’s ability to create perfection in male form…
She shoved two forkfuls in her mouth at once. Forcing herself to chew with her mouth open. Breaking her mother’s heart, she was sure.
“Always chew with your mouth closed, Dove.”
“But, Momma, I can do a better job at chewing with my mouth open. Then my cheeks don’t get in the way so much.”
“But then you take away the appetite of others who are eating with you. Which is the better choice? Chewing for your own comfort? Or making a choice that benefits others?”
Technically, she wasn’t hurting anyone else with her current chewing choice.
So…perhaps she was still in her mother’s good graces.
With the exception of the whole wanting-to-keep-Mitchell-locked-up-for-the-rest-of-their-lives thing. No, not locked up. It would be a sacrilege to cage the magnificent animal that he was.
Just…just…what?
She wanted the world to know he was hers and respect that choice? To have him tell her that she was the only woman he wanted to be with, would be with, no matter what?
Then she could trust him to go into the world and not be affected by what other women wanted. Like her mother had trusted her father all the months he was out at sea for all those years.
And what about her dad? Had he trusted her mother, too? Had he given any thought to what he was leaving behind?
Or had he taken her mother for granted?
Thoughts she should have had before. Long before. She’d just never looked at her parents from the partner perspective before. How horribly…lacking…of her.
And now? When Whaler looked at all the months, all the years that he’d lost? Thinking that he’d have a lifetime of years with his love when he retired from the sea? Only to have her get sick less than a decade afterward?
An onslaught of regret hit her so hard she slid down to the floor and adopted the lotus position just to get through it. And was hit with another bit of understanding.
The bottle. She didn’t condone Whaler’s drinking. It was killing him. But it suddenly made more sense to her. It wasn’t just grief sending her father to seek constant oblivion.
