Love to Hate You (Hope Valley #9) - Jessica Prince Page 0,62

leaned in for one last peck before letting me go and moving toward Ivy, giving her hair a ruffle. “Come on, Monster. Let’s get started.”

My baby girl let out an enthusiastic whoop as she ran to keep up with Micah’s long strides, and I headed back inside the house.

Silvia was standing at the counter in front of the window when I reentered the kitchen. She looked up from the cutting board where she was dicing tomatoes, her sharp-witted gaze pinning me in place, and I knew I was about to be hit with her wisdom.

“There are men in this world too ignorant to appreciate when they’re holdin’ somethin’ beautiful in the palm of their hands, so instead of takin’ care of it so it blooms to its full potential, they neglect it, letting it wilt to nothing. Then there are men who know exactly what they’ve got, and they use all the breath in their body cultivating and caring for it so each day it’s more beautiful than the one before, even if they don’t realize they’re doin’ it. Alex was an ignorant ass. But that man out there, he knows what he’s holding in his hands, my precious girl. Don’t let fear hold you back from getting what you deserve.”

Moving across the kitchen, I came up behind my aunt and placed my hands on her shoulders before bending to press a kiss against the papery skin of her cheek. “I love you, Sylvia. You know that?”

She reached up and gave one of my hands a pat. “Of course I know. And I love you too. Now go start fryin’ up some shells so we can eat.”

On a laugh, I let her go and moved to the stove. Then I started frying up shells just like she’d ordered.

It was hours later . . . after a dinner with the four of us where, between Micah and Ivy, I’d laughed until the muscles in my stomach ached . . . after Micah called it a night with a scorching kiss that left me starving for more and went back to his house . . . after Sylvia had gone back to the carriage house and Ivy had fallen fast asleep in her bed.

I hadn’t been able to turn my brain off to find sleep for myself. Instead of tossing and turning, I’d slipped a long cardigan on over my nightgown, put on a pair of thick, fuzzy socks, and with one of the soft, fluffy afghans Sylvia had knitted years ago draped over my shoulders, I headed out to the back garden.

Silva had put a loveseat out here years ago that I’d always favored, the cushions were faded from sun and age, but they were so fluffy you felt like you were sitting on a cloud. I headed right for it, curling up and laying my head back to stare up at the sky. The moon was full and bright, and millions of stars speckling the inky black. It was the kind of sight that took a person’s breath away. Sheer beauty, and it was available to me, right here in my own backyard.

I wasn’t sure how long I’d been out there when the crunch of footsteps let me know I was no longer alone. Tilting my head, I was able to make out Micah’s tall, solid frame from the bulb illuminating the back porch as he headed my way. The short gate let out a creak as he opened it and stepped into the yard.

“Hey,” I said softly, not wanting my voice to pierce the peaceful silence. “What are you doing out here?”

“Could ask you the same.” He wound his way easily through the paths like he’d walked them so many times they were committed to memory. “It’s the middle of the night. What’re you doin’ out here in the cold all by yourself?”

“Couldn’t sleep,” I answered as he sat down on the loveseat beside me. He reached across the cushions and plucked me up like I weighed next to nothing, pulling me over to him so we were snuggled together. I adjusted the blanket so it covered both of us as he settled us in and wrapped me up in his arms. “What’s your reason?”

“Sleep comes and goes for me. Always has. Got up to take a piss and saw my woman sitting all alone in the dark through my window.”

I let out a little snort before giggling and burrowing against him. “Your woman, huh?” There was a tiny

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