“I told you that I was turned on by your stalking me outside my window. That implies certain things.”
“Aren’t you traumatized from your stalkers?”
“PR lesson number one. You can get away with a lot if you’re an attractive young male with all your hair.”
I tug off my shirt, letting her push me back onto the bed.
She straddles me. I kiss her face, run my hands down her body, loosen her robe, and luxuriate in the feel of her soft skin against mine.
Jenna rests her head against my chest, pressing her lips to my rib cage. My heart, which had felt like it was rotting in a chest that was caving in, finally feels normal.
I run my fingers through her hair. “I love you, Jenna,” I murmur. “I need you to know that. I need you to believe that.”
“Hm, depends. Where is this cake?”
“It was going to take two weeks because they had to custom make a pan. I wasn’t sure if you’d approve of the amount of money. It was an expensive cake. I could have bought a used car and given it away to a needy person for how much they wanted. So I did that instead. Figured you’d appreciate the gesture.” I tap her nose.
Jenna clamps her mouth shut. Then: “That’s… very kind of you.”
I can’t stop my grin. “You want that cake, don’t you?”
“You really are speaking my love language.” She wrinkles her nose.
I pull her up so I can kiss her.
“It was supposed to be our wedding cake,” I confess.
“I can’t wait that long anyway.”
I kiss her again. “No, wait. I was going to whisk you off your feet and marry you at sunrise tomorrow.”
“What?”
“I figured that the only way you’d believe me when I say I love you and want to spend the rest of my life with you was to marry you.”
“But I don’t have a dress.” She sits up. “Or rings.”
“Got them in the bag.”
Jenna’s half hanging off the bed, digging for the bag on the floor while chickens mill around, hopping in the pots of rainwater.
“Shoo,” she tells one chicken.
It hisses at her as she picks up the bag.
I run my hand over the curve of her ass just because I can.
“Ooh!” Jenna pulls out the box with the rings. “Shiny! And a dress!”
She shimmies it on, jumping up to pull the fabric over her chest. It’s a short white dress with layers of lace.
“I picked it because it makes your ass look like a cupcake.”
“And you wanna eat it up.” She straddles me, leans forward. “I love you so much, McCarthy. It’s unhealthy.”
“I was going to wait to fuck you in that dress until after I marry you.”
“We aren’t getting married.”
