Page 40 of Sip
“This. I need this.”
The sigh releasing some of her stress puffs against my shirt and she cuddles in deeper. After a few seconds, her body falls lax against me. My mind still blows every time I realize the peace I provide to her. She’s calm when I’m calm. The opposite is just as true. If I could check my emotions better, I’d get through to her. I lay my cheek on the top of her head, breathing her sweetness in.
“I’m the luckiest woman in the world to have you.”
“Little pixie you have no clue how damn lucky I am to have you.”
My sweet talk entices her enough to look up and show me her pale face. Proof of her fatigue that I’m only making worse with my pressure.
“I need a little more time. Please be patient with me.”
Damn irony. No one’s more impatient than me which both of us know. “If you’ll do the same for me.”
“Always.”
I wish I could be as confident in my intentions for her.
The sound of her glorious laughter stops me as I stride toward the kitchen. Her giggle isn’t quite as boisterous or heartfelt as normal. Yet I’m thrilled to hear the noise just the same. She hasn’t had anything to be joyous abut for weeks. Now, she’s on the way to acceptance of Shane’s death. And hopefully my marriage proposal.
My patience is nearly nonexistent, but I’ve tried hard for her. Although,not yetas her answer to my multiple requests has in no way stifled my desire to wed her.
I push open the garage door and lean against the frame, watching her work. She and two other girls, whose names I forgot as soon as Grace introduced them to me since I do not care about anyone but her, have set up an assembly line for their process of refurbishing dressers for the abused women’s shelter. Now according to my angel, each room will have an original design from their work.
The taller of the two girls sketches the design on the white wood while Grace sits crossed legged on the concrete griping a brush with dark blue paint smeared on the bristles. A slight frown draws down her forehead as she slowly free hands a garland of flowers from one drawer knob to the other. I love her intensity. She’s so engrossed in her work she doesn’t realize I’m spying on her. The other ladies seem to notice me. Although neither one says anything to me, I can tell by their murmurs between themselves and sudden urgency to clean up, that I make them nervous. That’s fine. I’m ready for them to go. They can be charitable someplace else.
Grace disagrees apparently and grins at them after swirling over the last petal. “You guys are quitting already?”
The ginger nods toward me. “We don’t want to interrupt. We probably should get going.”
Grace follows her line of sight and when joy explodes on her face from seeing me, I know— I fucking know— it’s time. I stride to her and help her up, despite her chuckling and saying she’s fine. She is fine but I still help my pregnant pixie up.
“Look how good they’re turning out.”
“Perfect.” I keep my gaze on her. Nothing else I need to see here or anywhere else.
“Killian! I meant the painting!”
Laughter bubbles in her again, and she lifts on tiptoes to palm my cheek and turn my face to her furniture. I like her being playful again.
“We’ve only got three more then we’ll be all finished.”
She twists back to the girls who continue packing up sponges and cans with rushed movements.
“Please don’t go yet. He has the truck scheduled tomorrow afternoon for delivery, so we need to finish them this morning or they won’t be dry enough to move.”
I have to suppress my snarl from her having to ask them to stay. They should be grateful she wants them here. It’s not my fault they’re terrified of me. I’m giving them my girl, my garage, my delivery guys. That right there should show I’m not a total bastard.
Her small hand sliding into mine distracts me when she tugs me toward the house.
“We’ll be right back.”
She waves at them and grins at me, so I happily follow along. Once the door closes behind me, I take over. Before she realizes what I’m doing, I have her back against the wall and her legs wrapped around my waist with our baby safe between us. “I’m fucking you tonight and marrying you tomorrow baby girl Don’t deny me.”
“Okay.”
The shy whisper makes me rock hard, and I grind into her without giving a damn about anything but her. “Good girl. You’re going to get rewarded for being so agreeable.”
“So are you.”
