Page 98 of Doing It for Love

He studies me for a moment, and I give him a cheesy grin that makes him crack a smile. “Okay…” he says, and reaches over me and hits the play button.

“Notnow,” I say, hitting pause. “I’ll watch it tomorrow with Theresa while you’re entertaining your parents. That way you’re not hovering over me. And it could be a good distraction for her…if you don’t mind.”

He shakes his head and pulls the USB out. “I don’t mind.” He kisses my forehead, lets it linger and melt the cold from my skin. “Thank you.”

I take the USB and tuck it into my coat pocket, zipping it so it stays safe from the weather. My hands are cold, so I blow into them before Landon takes them into his own.

“How are you warm all the time?” I ask. He answers with only a shrug, and then he blows into my palms, warming them almost instantly, yet it still makes me shiver. Something awakens in the pit of my stomach, and I can almost…almost…feel the flutters of angel butterfly wings.

“Hey, Liz?”

“Mmm?”

“I…I need to talk to you.”

“Okay.”

His pointer finger trails up the center of my wrist, tracing my veins, giving me the shivers with its equal amount of tickle and pleasure.

“Why do you want to marry me?” he whispers.

“What?”

“Why do you want to marry me?”

I flick my gaze to his, refusing to blink and moisten my eyes even more. The butterfly is dying as fast as it was born. Is he seriously asking me this now? Two days before our wedding? He should know why I want to marry him, because I hope he wants to marry me for the same reason.

“Because…I love you.”

“I know.”

“Then why would you ask me that? Did your parents tell you to cancel the—”

“If they did, I didn’t listen to them.”

“Then…why would you ask me that?” I ask again. Landon keeps his eyes locked with mine, and I hope he says something else.

Change the subject.

Tease me.

Flirt with me.

Or something or anything because I’m not sure how to get into this conversation when I don’t know all the answers other than that I love him. All we need is love, right?

TheMoulin Rouge!soundtrack is playing somewhere in my head.

Landon’s mouth twitches, and he rolls his chair closer, pressing his knees with mine, holding my hands and tracing finger hearts on my palms.

“You said you were scared on your list thing,” he says to our hands. “But I don’t getwhatyou’re scared of…and that’s scaring me.”

“I’m not scared,” I lie. I’m petrified.

“You are.”

“No.”

“Please tell me why you’re scared.” He sighs, bends down, and kisses the center of my palm, and those angel butterflies I’ve missed so much come back with a vengeance.

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