Pulling back, I shot him a look. “The compromise is letting me try it my way this time. If it doesn’t work, we try it your way next time.”
“Thanks.”
“Don’t be like that. We’ll sit down together to work out the logistics of when and where. We’ll need Raúl to get a handle on her routine. By definition, an ambush is unexpected, but it should happen somewhere she feels safe and comfortable, too. Give her a nice jolt.” I shrugged. “She’s laid down the ground rules. We’re just taking her cue.”
Gideon took a long, deep breath. I could practically see him thinking, his agile mind trying to find a way to get the result he wanted.
So I distracted him from that. “Remember this morning, when I said I’d explain why I decided to tell my parents about our marriage?”
His focus instantly shifted, his gaze watchful and alert. “Of course.”
“I know it took a lot of courage for you to tell Dr. Petersen about Hugh. Especially considering how you feel about psychologists.” And who could blame him for that distrust? Hugh had come into Gideon’s life under the guise of therapeutic help and had become an abuser instead. “You inspired me to be equally brave.”
His gorgeous face softened with tenderness. “I heard that song today,” he murmured, reminding me of the time I’d sung the Sara Bareilles anthem to him.
I smiled.
“You needed me to tell him,” he said quietly. The words were phrased as a statement but were really posed as a question.
“Yeah, I did.” More than that, Gideon had needed it. Sexual abuse was private and personal, but in some way, we had to put it out there. It wasn’t a dirty, shameful secret to shove into a box. It was an ugly truth, and truths—by nature—needed to be aired.
“And you need to confront Anne.”
My brows rose. “I actually wasn’t swinging the conversation back to that, but yeah … I do.”
This time, Gideon nodded. “All right. We’ll figure it out.”
I indulged in a mental fist pump. Score one for Gideva.
“You also said there was something you wanted more than having sex with me,” he reminded me dryly, the look in his eyes calling my bluff.
“Well, I wouldn’t put it quite like that.” I ran my fingers through his hair. “Banging you is literally my favorite activity. Ever.”
He smirked. “But?”
“You’re going to think I’m silly.”
“I’ll still think you’re hot.”
I kissed him for that. “In high school, most of the girls I knew had boyfriends. You know how it is, raging hormones and epic love stories.”
“So I heard,” he said wryly.
My words caught in my throat. So stupid of me to forget how it must have been for Gideon. He’d had no one until Corinne in college, too damaged by Hugh’s exploitation to have the normal teenage-love-affair angst I was thinking of.
“Angel?”
I cursed silently. “Forget it. It’s lame.”
“You know that’s not going to work.”
“Just this once?”
“No.”
“Please?”
He shook his head. “Spit it out.”