“I want my bed to smell like you. Want to watch TV with you in PJs. Cook for you. Make love to you in the middle of the night and first thing when I wake up.” He rested his forehead on mine, his hands on either side of my face. “I want to kiss you before I go to work, and I want to come home to you, Maggie.”
Fuck, that was sweet. Cheesy, but sweet. “Well…it doesn’t seem like such a terrible idea.”
A gasp escaped his mouth. “Yeah?”
My lips twitched with a smile. “Yeah.”
My feet lifted off the floor, and I found myself spinning, his strong arms tight around me. I giggled into his mouth as he kissed me.
“I love you, Maggie Dawson,” he said as he put me down. I leaned to kiss him again, but he pulled away. “You don’t have to do that every time I say I love you.”
I blinked at him, stunned for a moment, and then looked away. He met my stare. “You think I haven’t noticed? It’s all right. I don’t mind saying it for the both of us.”
“Maybe you don’t have to,” I whispered, carefully weighing my next words.
“What?” He seemed to be holding his breath.
My heart rocketed in my chest. My whole body tingled with something so strong, so loud, smothering everything else, including my sanity, hushing my fears. “I love you, too, Kyle.”
I didn’t know what kind of a woman possessed me and made me say those words, but I did know, in that instance, I loved him. Maybe not in the same way I loved someone I didn’t dare name now. But I did love Kyle. And I hoped to God it would be enough.
He finally let his breath out. “You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for this.”
To my surprise, I didn’t regret saying it. I was serious about making this relationship work, and I didn’t mind going all in. “Can I kiss you now?”
“Oh, we’re gonna do a lot more than kissing.”
Scene22
Mike
Mike walked into the hotel suite, tossing his wallet on the counter, while he scrolled through his phone. As he looked for someone to play Maggie tonight—a quick fix for the bulge in his pants—Andrea’s name jumped in his face, sending a jolt of disgust and rage through him. He narrowed his eyes at it for a second, and then tapped dial.
“Mike?” Her voice was thick with sleep.
“Did I wake you?” He removed his watch and dropped it on the granite, then held on to the edge of the island as he worked off his first dress boot.
She yawned. “Yes.”
“Good.” He got his second boot off and walked to the first chair in the living room.
“Are you all right? What happened?”
“I just wanna ask you one question.” His lips twisted as he sat. “How could you do this to her?”
“What…what’re you talking about? Who’s her?”
“Maggie.”
“What the hell?” There was a rustle of something. “You’re calling me in the middle of the night to give me a piece of your mind about some lies my daughter filled—?”
“It’s always someone else’s fault, right? Someone has to take the blame, but never you. Do you get off on hurting vulnerable people who need you? Or are you just so fuckin’ miserable you can’t stand seeing anybody happy, even your own daughter?”
The line went quiet for too long.
“You’re still there?” He undid his belt.
“If you’re finished, I’d like to go back to bed now.”
