He closed his eyes for a brief moment, as if in pain. “Addy, no...”
“I mean it,” she insisted.
“Addy.” He moved his hands upward, using them to cup her face. “No job. No French.”
She let that sink in for a moment. Finally she heard herself add, “No taste in superheroes.”
“What?” He glanced down at the big S on his chest.
“Superman,” she scoffed, feeling her mojo on the rise again. “So banal, Baxter.”
He scowled now, but she knew he was just playing along. “I’ll add that to prissy and pasty.”
She laughed. “I’m sorry. That was my defense mechanism talking. You’re hunky and so handsome that it was hard for me to handle.”
“Handle me now, Addy.”
And she heard it as a plea. He wanted her. He needed her touch. So she applied herself to getting him naked. Superman shirt gone—note to self, get him into an edgier crime fighter before hitting Paris—he stopped her hands on their way to his jeans.
“Time for you to get naked, Addy,” he said, his voice guttural.
She stalled again, her hands returning his tight grip. Be brave, she told herself, closing her eyes and breathing in the scent of his warm skin. Intellectually, she knew she wasn’t that little girl who had lived in the dark. She was a woman, a loved woman, getting ready to have sex with the man she wanted in her bed for the rest of their lives.
I can do this, she thought, stepping away from him in order to shuck the rest of her clothes. I can do this.
Then, over his shoulder, she caught sight of herself in the mirrored closet doors across the room. She shuddered. It didn’t matter what the size label said on her clothes. It wasn’t even about size.
It was about feeling loved. Her parents hadn’t loved her enough to stop the shouting, to end the rounds of stabbing criticism, to find a way to make the world feel safe for their young daughter. Her only security had been in an episode of Saved by the Bell and a Snickers bar. In Dances with Wolves and a bag of Doritos. In Little Women and lemon bars.
Baxter glanced back, saw what she saw, she supposed, because he moved, coming behind her, holding her back against his front. He crossed his arms over her waist, this hold not so much sexual as cherishing. His gaze met her reflected one.
“I love you,” he said. “I love you.”
She leaned her head against his shoulder and inspected their images in the glass. Despite his words, the sincerity in them, it still wasn’t easy. Did the frog prince still see his old warts once he’d been kissed by his beautiful lady?
“Shh,” he said again, and then bent his head so he spoke against her ear. “Screw mirrors, honey, if they bother you. Just look at yourself in my eyes.”
That did it. That got her turning away from the reflection and toward the man of her dreams. Her comfort crush. The freakin’ love of her life who could make her believe in the lasting power of what was in their hearts.
Addy March got to have Baxter Smith.
“So many happy endings today,” she told her guy.
Smiling, he touched his absolutely best male nose in the world to hers. “Still got no job, no French, no taste in superheroes.”
“But we’ve got each other,” Addy said. “Je t’adore.”
* * *
LAYLA SLAPPED AT VANCE’S hand as he tried sneaking one of the cupcakes from the plastic carrier she’d brought home from the food truck. “Those are for dessert,” she said, pushing the container farther down the kitchen counter.
“But it’s my party,” he said, a wheedling smile on his face. His hips pressed closer to hers as he pinned her against the bullnose tile.
She laughed up at him. “You’re in a mood.”
“Mmm,” he agreed. “Getting all his limbs in order can do that to a man.”
The final cast had been removed. Though he wore a soft splint in its place, he’d come home from the doctor’s upbeat and energized. Likely already thinking of his return to active duty.
That thought threatened her own mood, a little melancholy creeping in at the idea of their time together coming to an end. But she wasn’t going to think about the future. Not tonight.
With a saucy smile, she tilted her hips, pressing into the thickness she felt between his legs. “This limb seems to be in fine form, too.”