Page 151 of Almost Love

She opened one eye and smiled. “Love of your life, huh?”

“Oh yeah. You didn’t hear? She loves me too. Wildest thing, I know. I’ve never loved anyone other than my family, so I don’t know if I’m doing it right. But fuck, she’s my whole world.” Gracie whined, making both of them chuckle. “Sorry. She’s one of the two important pieces of my whole world.”

“What on earth did she do to get someone like you?”

He shrugged, slowly massaging her feet. Her eyes sparkled as she watched him while she continued to eat her quiche. He knew she was expecting an answer, but what did you say to the most incredible woman you’d ever met? How did you put into words why she was everything you ever wanted and didn’t realize you were missing?

Instead, he said, “She’s got a thing for frosting and is exceptional with baked goods.”

Clementine laughed, the sound filling through the empty shop. He would never tire of hearing her laugh or seeing her smile. He still loved her scowls and her frowns of concentration. She continued to roll her eyes when he was being exceptionally ridiculous or she was annoyed. Those were all the things that he’d loved about her before. They were things he’dalwayslove about her.

“Well, she can’t be half as amazing as my guy,” she said, picking up a donut hole and licking the powdered sugar off the surface. His dick responded instantly, swearing under his breath. “He’s turned on by watching me cook, eat and exist.”

“He’s got good taste.” His eyes were still fixed on her mouth as she bit into the section of the donut she’d licked. “Fuck’s sake, chef,” he mumbled, pressing a hand to his dick.

She hummed, adjusting her feet in his lap, which jostled an unhappy Gracie. “He’s also the best person I’ve ever met. Kindest, most generous, gives without expecting or wanting anything in return. Oh, and the best part?”

“There’s a best part?”

“He’s an animal in bed,” she whispered and he grunted, fighting back his smile. “He also knows how to be timid, but when I get him going…” She fanned herself and popped the last of the donut hole into her mouth.

Oakley focused on the massage—thumbs pressing against the arches, applying pressure to the balls and heels of her feet—while she picked up another annoyingly sexy item off the plate, a cupcake.

“Wanna share?” she asked, breaking off the bottom and putting it on top, like she’d taught him months ago.

“I don’t think I’m going to be able to breathe if I get anywhere near that frosting.”

A wicked smile tugged at her lips. “Too many memories, huh?”

“The best kind, sweetheart. But I would like to not bend you over this table while your staff is still here.”

She chuckled and bit into the cupcake, then held it out to him. Even though he knew it was a bad idea, he took it and licked some of the frosting off the side and then took a bite. Handing it back to her, he sighed happily. Because this was everything he needed—Clementine, Gracie and frosting.

“Speaking of which…” she trailed off, setting the cupcake down, which he was eternally grateful for. “Wanna move in with me?”

“Yes. Wait. What?” His eyes felt like they were going to pop out of his head, because he wasn’t sure if he’d heard that right.

“You and Gracie, come live with me. Permanently. Yes or no?”

“Yes, a million times yes.”

A bright smile lit up her face and she nodded. “Great. Most of your stuff is already there, so you just need to bring everything else over.”

“I’m assuming you don’t need any of my furniture.”

“Made some good memories on that couch. And your balcony chairs.”

He nodded, unable to stop the wide smile from stretching across his mouth. “Fuck, yes. We’d love to live with you. Permanently.”

“Good, because waking up to your morning breath has become a highlight of my day.”

“You say the sweetest things, melor.” Oakley snorted and squeezed her ankle. “On the topic ofpermanentthings…” He shifted carefully so as not to drop her feet or annoy Gracie any more and pulled out his phone. Oakley unlocked it and slid it across the table. “I’m finally getting these done.”

He’d been steadily filling his Clementine Collection—the tattoos that decorated his left forearm had now expanded to the rest of his arm—over the last few months. Everyone at the tattoo shop had contributed to the designs, but he hadn’t gotten her sketches put onto his body. He’d taken pictures of her drawings a few weeks ago, while she napped after a meltdown over crockery, and then tweaked them to fit the style he and Carin had already set. So now he was going to get a string of tiered cakes inked onto his bicep.

“You’re ridiculous,” she muttered, eyes fixed on his phone and Oakley smiled. “People are going to think you’re addicted to dessert.”

“I am. We’ve talked about this.”

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