Page 99 of Doing It for Love

“That right there, Landon.” I point accusingly at him, and he looks at me completely dumbfounded. “That’s why I’m scared.”

He taps his face, brows pulled in confusion. I shove from the chair, pull at my ponytail, word vomit rising up my throat, and when Landon stands I release it in a flurry.

“We’re peas and carrots!”

His eyebrow rises. “Peas?”

“And carrots.”

“I thought peas and carrots were a good combination.”

“I don’t want to be peas and carrots.” I toss my hands out, accidentally knocking one of the creepy zombie props.

“Okay, what do you want to be?”

“I want to be strawberries and whipped cream.”

He still looks confused as hell.

“Ugh, we’re anoldrelationship! When was the last time you kissed my palm like that? We don’t go on dates like we used to. We don’t flirt or seduce each other. The only reason we do that lately is because—”

“We’ve been off sex.”

“Bingo.”

His confusion starts to dissipate. “And you’re afraid when we start having sex again, we’ll skip over the other stuff?”

“We’re going to be married and hardly touch each other and have to work and work and never have any fun and we’re just going to be okay with it because that’s how life is and that’s how relationships go, but I don’t want that. I want our marriage to be…fun. I love joking around while we fool around. I want to hold hands everywhere we go. I want to make out in the back of a movie theater, steal kisses in coffee shops, have sex over every inch of our apartment or house or wherever we live. And I’m scared marriage will change the fun part of our relationship. The part that keeps us young, keeps us in love, and I’m terrified you’ll wake up when you’re fifty and realize you’re stuck with the decision you made when you were twenty-seven, and we haven’t touched in months, we don’t go out. I just want to know when that happens…that you’ll still…”

I pause, the last five months catching up with me. The stress, the planning, being cut off—it never let me forget what I’m terrified of. And when the first teardrop falls from my cheek to my wrist, Landon coaxes me to look at him.

“I’ll still what?” he whispers, his own fear reflecting in his gray eyes.

“You’ll still love me.”

I squeeze my eyes shut, burrow into his chest, and hold on to him like he’s the only thing keeping me standing. His thumbs swipe at my cheeks, push away the tears, and I feel him shaking his head above mine.

“You say all those things like they’re bad.”

“They are.”

“Not to me.” He pushes me back to look in my eyes. “If you want to sleep instead of have sex after a twelve-hour shift, I’m okay with that. If we’d rather watch four hours of TV in our pajamas instead of going out, I’m good with that, too. Whenever we’re not having sex, I’m going to be satisfied just being in the same room with you.”

“But—”

“If you couldn’t have sex, who would you want to…not have sex with? Because I’d want that person to be you.” He takes my left hand, tugs at the diamond on my finger before kissing the knuckle. “That’s why I gave you this. Whatever we’re doing or not doing, I want to do or not do that with you.”

“I want to do or not do everything with you, too. I just…”

“Lizzie, I’m always going to hold your hand, and I’m always going to kiss you goodnight. Even when we have kids or when we retire. You don’t have to be scared that I won’t love you through everything. I’m not.”

“Then what are you scared of?”

“That you’ll wake up one day and realize you deserve so much more than I can give you.”

My heart thuds and melts, and now I’m the one who needs to reassure him. Because he should never be afraid of that.

“Can you promise to make me laugh?”

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