Oh God!
His head dropped another inch so he was all I could see. “And, baby, somethin’ else I know. You are not them.”
My hand left his shoulder so I could curl my fingers around his wrist at my jaw and I whispered, “Mitch.”
“You are not them, Mara.”
“I –”
His thumb moved to press against my lips and his face got even closer.
“You…are…not…them, baby,” he whispered.
“You…” I said against his thumb and he moved it to sweep my cheek. “I mean, everything around you, all the stuff consuming your life right now, it’s about me, Mitch. It’s about where I come from. It’s about who I am and who I am is about them.”
“You’re right and you’re wrong,” he told me.
My other hand at his shoulder slid down to his chest and my hand at his wrist joined it when I asked, “How am I wrong?”
“All the stuff consuming my life, as you put it, is about you and, Mara, baby, I do not mind that. And what it’s about is also about you. You being a good person. You tryin’ to do right for your cousins. You puttin’ yourself out there so they won’t live the life I’m guessin’ you were forced to live. But what’s happening to you and them is about them, Bill and how he didn’t pull himself out of that life you pulled yourself out from and that has not one f**kin’ thing to do with you.”
“It does,” I whispered.
“It doesn’t,” he returned firmly.
“Mitch, it does.”
“Mara,” his fingers tensed on my jaw, “why do you think I don’t mind all the shit that’s consuming my life?”
I blinked because this was a really good question.
“I…I don’t know,” I stammered and he grinned with his mouth and his eyes, close up, and it was phenomenal but he added another thumb sweep of my cheek which made it breathtaking.
“Because, you give good Christmas presents,” he stated.
I felt my brows draw together as, still stammering, I asked, “Pah…pardon?”
“You give good Christmas presents,” he repeated. “LaTanya, Bray, Brent, f**k, even Derek, they all talk about them. And they also talk about the birthday presents you give.”
They did?
“But –” I started but he interrupted me.
“And you work hard. Your co-worker thinks the world of you and your boss thinks you’re the shit, so much, he considers you like a daughter.”
I blinked again, my belly getting warm that he got that from Mr. Pierson and I asked, “Really?”
Mitch grinned again and answered, “Really.”
“I –” I began but his hand tensed at my jaw and his face came even closer. So close, I could feel his breath on my lips. I closed my mouth and stared into his soulful brown eyes.
“You look nice. You dress nice. You smell nice. You have a fantastic f**king laugh. You’re loyal. You’re loving. And, honey, every time I’d see you in the breezeway or at a party, it was cute as all f**kin’ hell even as it was just as frustrating how you’d tuck that hair behind your ear, avoid me like the plague and get the f**k away from me as fast as you could. Since that moron you used to date left the picture, I’ve been waitin’ for my shot and it sucks that it comes with you cryin’ in my arms and those kids learnin’ early that life can really suck. But if takin’ that shot means puttin’ up with that shit and comes with you bein’ where you are right now rather than hiding behind your door and retreating into that world in your head, I’ll put up with that shit in order to take it.”
Oh my God.
Oh my God!
“You’ve been waiting for your shot?” I whispered.