Page 17 of Working For Her Curves

“I’m in love with you,” I admit, my voice breaking. “Since karaoke night. I haven’t had that much pure fun in so long, and you just…went along with it. Those ridiculous Travolta moves in front of a packed bar. And it was so easy and so right and I knew I wanted to feel that way for as long as you’d let me.” I swallow. “And I’m terrified and I need to know this is real.”

His hand finds mine, and the heat of his palm makes me relax.

“It’s real. I’m in love with you, too.” His voice is low. Marty moves his thumb lightly across my knuckles, and every pass sends a current straight to my heart. “I tried to tell myself I couldn’t fall for you because I was sure you’d break my heart and I wouldn’t be able to survive it. But every time we were together, everything just clicked. I realized I never wanted to be apart from you.”

“Why didn’t you say something?”

“I was working up to it. I was going to ask you to stay after we met with Dale. And then I heard you through that door, and I—” His fingers tighten on mine. “I got scared. And I’m here now because I made a mistake. I need you in my life, Poppy.”

He lifts my hand. Presses my knuckles against his mouth, and my heart expands.

“Don’t,” I say, and my voice is wrecked. “Don’t be scared.”

“I’m not.” He lowers my hand but doesn’t let go. “I’m choosing here. I’m choosing you. Not the job, not the town.”

“And the plan?”

“I don’t care about the plan.” He turns toward me and his knee presses against mine and the contact sends heat straight up my thigh. “Stay for the plan, stay for Dale, stay because you like the town—I don’t care why you stay as long as you’re here.”

“And if I’m staying because of you?”

“Then I’m the luckiest guy in Forge Creek, and I’ll spend every day making sure you don’t regret it.”

My free hand goes to his jaw. The stubble is rough under my palm and his eyes close and he goes slack under my hand. I’m dizzy with love for this man.

“So I wasn’t a summer fling,” I say.

“Fuck, no. Poppy. You were—are—so much more than a fling.” His hand comes up and covers mine against his face. “You’re everything.”

“Marty.”

“Yeah.”

“I love you,” I say, then lean forward and kiss him softly.

“Come home with me,” he says against my skin.

And the word I give him isn’t maybe.

CHAPTER 9

MARTY

When we get back to my place, she grabs the front of my shirt and pulls me into a deep kiss. I hold her jaw in my hands, and she laughs into my mouth as we fumble in the dark.

“I think I’ve loved you since that first day in the trailer. Since you walked in with your spreadsheet and called me out on my shit.”

“You did need putting in your place,” she teases, pulling me in for another kiss.

“I know.” I kiss the corner of her mouth. “You make me better. At everything.”

“Marty.” She pulls back enough to focus. Her palm presses flat against my chest, right over the slam of my heartbeat. “I love you. I need you to hear it.”

“I believe you, Poppy.” I bring her hand up and hold it against my heart. “I love you, too. I always will.”

When we’re both naked, she pulls me onto the bed, one hand on the back of my neck, and I brace over her on my forearms.

“I want everything with you.” I trail a line of kisses across her collarbone, and she thrusts her hips up against me. “Everything.”