Page 62 of Moonshot

“Potatoes.”

Laughing. “What?”

“They’re potatoes. Couldn’t find any snow,” he whispers, still looking ahead like someone else is watching this ridiculous show besides me.

Standing up, I turn to face him when something catches my eye. A little farther behind where he’s standing, there are morepotatoes.

I love you, Elsa.

Unable to contain the gasp, my hand flies to my mouth as Mick’s gaze finally turns to me. Walking over to him, I curl my arms around his waist and bury my face in his solid chest. Tears flooding his shirt.

Mick’s position changes as he slides the speaker into his coat pocket, music still on repeat, and he wraps his steely arms around me.

“This doesn’t change anything. You still have a week to go,” I utter into his chest.

“Fuck, that doesn’t give me time off for good behavior?” He chuckles.

“I don’t know if I’d call torturing me in front of my best friend last weekgood behavior.”

“It was good for me.”

“How did you know where I live?”

“A little birdy told me.”

I knew it. “A little Joanie?” I laugh.

Looking up at his brilliantly beautiful smile, I can’t help myself. Pushing up onto my tiptoes, I plant a chaste kiss on his big lips and sigh. “I’m so in love with you, Michael York. This thirty days is not just about you. I have things I’m working on while we’re apart too. I’m desperate for this to work between us. I’ve never felt like this with anyone.”

“I know, baby. I feel the same way. But what could you possibly have to work on? You’re perfect.”

“Hardly. I need to come clean about these migraines. It might be more than you’re willing to take on. I have them a lot. Like, A LOT. I try to manage as best I can so I don’t live feeling like I’m doped up on pain pills all the time, but I’m struggling.”

“Babe, you know I’d be there for you, right? We can manage this. You just haven’t had me there to help before.”

“I know. And you’re probably right. But emotionally, I’m working on my fears about it. My dad left my mom because he couldn’t take it anymore. And when he left her, he left me. The domino effect could be big.”

“Nothing personal, but your dad’s a toad. It’s one thing if he and your mom split. You’ll never really know if it was just the migraines or if there was more to it. But no man walks away on their kid. I’ve been there. I’d never do that to my child.”

Snuggling in deeper, I take a deep inhale, hoping I can remember his scent long after he’s gone. “It’s only one more week, Mick. I love that you did this for me. I actually have a pretty wicked headache now. I was about to get in the tub when you arrived.”

When my statement is met with silence, I look up to see one brow cocked at me. “I could help with that.”

“Even you and your raw sex appeal can’t break through this migraine. Sorry. I’ll put you to the test some other night.”

“Okay, Els.” He leans down to place a tender kiss on my temple. “Climb into your bath. I’ll go home and jackoff to your picture, imagining I’m in there with you.”

My mouth flies open, instantly remembering the naughty bathtub photo I sent in retaliation for the Olaf boxer tease.

“Trust me. That photo is going to cause me to have blisters on my hands. And my poor dick.”

“Oh, god.” Shoving him away from me, as I attempt to walk back up the stairs, he pulls me into him for one last steamy kiss before saying goodbye.

“Mint. My sweet girl always smells and tastes like mint.”

“It’s for the nausea. But you’re right. I think I’m addicted to them. They’re everywhere.”

Mick pats me on the behind as I turn for the stairs. “One week, Elsa. Then you’re mine.”

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