“Not that I don’t like what I’m seeing. That dress, those shoes, you just standing there looking gorgeous.” His gaze dropped to my heels and ran back up the length of me. “But I like that smile the best. I’ve missed it. I don’t know what you were thinking this week, but wipe it from your mind. Whatever overtime that brain of yours is doing, it’s over.”
I swallowed, willing myself to speak. “Mick,” I said, but couldn’t continue. I cleared my dry throat and saw Mick flick his hand at the bartender, who promptly appeared with a sparkling water.
“I don’t know how you do that,” I said after a sip. “You seem to so easily command the world around you. And yourself. I don’t have that. I’m learning, but I’m finding my way.”
“I don’t want you to be anything but who you are,” he said before leaning in and running his lips along my cheek.
A quick glance around the room revealed that no one seemed to be noticing his PDA except for Sheila, who was smiling like the cat who found the spilled milk.
“I’m sorry.” My body naturally leaned into Mick’s, seeking his warmth.
His arm came around my back and held me snug. The event carried on in the background, but my world shrank to our little corner of the bar.
“I overreacted. I don’t know if I was just plain hurt,” I said softly, “or maybe I was embarrassed that he’d treated me even more poorly than I’d thought.”
Mick’s hand ran the length of my back. Up, down, and up again. “It doesn’t matter. To me, that is. I know it hurts you, which is why I didn’t say anything. But I agree, we shouldn’t have secrets.”
“Because of how we began?” I asked like a lovesick teenager.
“No. Because I love you,” Mick said.
Gaping at him, I was grateful his arm was around me. Otherwise, I would have slipped to the floor in my midnight-blue gown.
I was about to protest when Mick said firmly, “Don’t you dare overthink this.”
I laughed-cried. You know when you’re teary-eyed, but a laugh comes out and you have no idea what’s happening?
Looking up, I said, “Now, how about that drink?”
“On me? For sure.”
“On me,” I said with a smirk of my own. “After all, the drinks are included in your ticket.”
“Then I need to get a table’s worth of drinks.”
“You didn’t,” I said, knowing he must have.
“I did. See table number twenty-two? Two of those seats are for us if we want.”
“Oh. My.”
Mick wave his hand in the air, catching the bartender while repeating, “No overthinking.” He was about to give our orders when I took over.
“A sauvignon blanc and a Lagavulin?” I looked toward Mick, and he nodded, murmuring, “And she knows my drink.”
With our drinks in hand, he said, “To you being you, and me loving you.”
“To my sunny sky. Thank you for giving me that,” I whispered back.
“Always.”
It was time to sit for dinner, and despite threatening to make us sit at table twenty-two surrounded by nosy teachers, Mick joined me at the event planners’ table, where he also had a seat.
I faked a scowl at Sheila, who only winked and went to grab the mic. Dale sat on the other side of Mick, and I couldn’t be sure, but I swear I heard him threaten Mick if he hurt me.
Is this really my life? I’d gone from someone who had no one in my corner to several someones, and my heart was fuller than I could have ever imagined.
It was then I felt Mick’s palm slide up my dress and over my bare leg, his pinky drawing figure-eights on my thigh. My skin broke out in goose bumps, and my core heated.
