He slides his arms around my waist, his chest against my back as he nuzzles my neck. “I know you’ve been watching the TV in your old room sometimes, and I thought it would be nice to have one down here. Where you can watch in the evenings while I do some work.”
I spin in his arms. “You know it wouldn’t hurt for you to watch a little TV sometimes too, sir. It’s very relaxing. You work far too much.”
He kisses the tip of my nose. “Because there is much to do.”
And now I feel guilty because I do so little. I’ve even stopped exploring the house, looking for ways to escape. Like an adoptedferal cat grown too used to comfort and affection, I have become far too domesticated. “Can I help with anything?”
“You do enough,” he assures me.
“I barely do anything but a little laundry.”
“And the garden. You’ve already freed the roses from their vine prison, and cleared a patch big enough to grow dozens of vegetables,” he reminds me.
It’s true I have cleared a lot of space, and I’m proud of the progress I’ve made in such a short time. I’ve also enjoyed every second of it. “That doesn’t feel like work though.”
“Nevertheless, it’s enough, baby. Now are you going to come sit and watch some TV with me while I work?”
I nod, too eagerly probably, but I’m learning to stop trying to hide my feelings from him. He seems to like it when I don’t and I want to be totally honest with him. With the kind of support and care he offers me, I believe I can truly uncover my real self.
Lincoln trails his fingertips lazily up and down my arm while I watch a movie with my head on his lap. He has his laptop perched on the arm of the sofa and continues to work while still making me feel wanted.
It’s heaven sitting here with him like this. So normal and comfortable, which is odd, given how we came to be in each other’s lives. Never in my wildest dreams did I ever imagine a future like this. It feels too impossibly good to be true.
The movie ends and I sit up, which gets me his full attention. “Did you enjoy your movie, baby?”
“Yes. And now I’m all done with TV for the night.”
He arches an eyebrow. “And what would my little angel like to do now?”
I straddle him, wrapping my arms around his neck. “Umm!” I press my lips together, pretending to think.
He closes his laptop and circles my waist with his arms. “Have I told you how much I adore how bold you’re becoming?”
“No, sir.”
He runs his nose over my throat and growls. “Well, I do.”
Butterflies are swirling in my stomach, but I’ve been thinking about this for a while now, and the books I read about love and romance don’t seem to give me a clear answer on it. “Can I ask you something, sir?”
“Anything.” He goes on nuzzling my neck.
“How do you know if you’re in love?”
He stops kissing me and stares into my eyes.
“I’ve never been in love before, and I don’t know what it’s supposed to feel like. I was never taught about that kind of thing. Of course I’ve read about it in books, but in real life...”
His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. “Being in love with someone is hard to describe. It’s so many things all at once.”
“Can you help me understand?” I plead.
“It’s wanting to be near that person all of the time. Not being able to stop thinking about them. Needing to see them and touch them and know that they’re okay. That feeling that you would die if they weren’t in your life. That’s a lot of what it feels like.”
Warmth and contentment bloom fierce in my chest. That’s exactly how I feel about him and up until now I wasn’t sure if those feelings were deep enough to be love, or if they were more akin to infatuation.
He brushes my hair back from my face. “But those feelings can also just be lust and attraction. And that can wax and wane like the phases of the moon. Truly loving someone means that you would want their happiness above all else, even at the expense of your own. Love is being able to hold someone at their worst and yet still know that they’re the very best part of you.”
It’s like he’s reached inside my mind and put into words everything I feel about him. Tears are stinging behind my eyes. I want to tell him that I love him, but what if this is just infatuation or lust for him? He dusts his lips over mine. “Does that answer your question, angel?”
