Page 14 of Man of the Month Club: January
“I’m your only cousin, which makes me your least favorite, too. I was at your house, you big, dumb dope. Are you going senile on me?”
“Perhaps,” I answer honestly before thanking her and hanging up.
Maggie gives me a sheepish look before saying, “I’m sorry I jumped to the wrong conclusion. Will you ever be able to forgive me?”
Sensing my opening, I say, “Maybe.”
“What’s it going to take?” she asks me in a sexy purr.
“Let me see and touch all of you and make love to you with the lights on.” I keep my loving gaze steady on hers, silently letting her know how important this is to me.
I see the fear arise on her face.
Not wanting to push her too far, too fast, I ease back my request. “Someday. Just promise me it will happen someday.”
Maggie moves to kick the door shut behind me. When she looks at me this time, the fear has been replaced with loving desire. Her voice is beyond sexy when she says, “Today works.”
I don’t hesitate for a moment before lunging in her direction.
Epilogue - Maggie
Igrin at the man of my dreams before saying, “No way.”
Jett holds up his right hand as if taking an oath and says, “I swear. Do you want to ask Phoebe yourself? We can call her.”
“No, but she said it was unheard of for anyone to match as high as we did when Ciara answered the questions for me. How is it possible that my actual answers on the quiz were even more compatible with yours?”
“I guess we’re meant to be, sweetheart,” he murmurs before leaning from his sink to mine in the enormous bathroom and kissing my cheek.
“Eww… You’re getting shaving cream all over me!” I pretend to be outraged, but we both know I love his attention.
“I’ll be happy to get itallover you,” his eyes travel down as he waggles his brows suggestively, leaving no doubt about where he wants to rub his face.
My panties go damp at the thought, but today is important, and we are already on a tight schedule, so I say, “Maybe later.”
“How about definitely later?” he asks.
I chuckle at his hope-filled tone before saying, “Okay, definitely later.”
He looks like a delighted child on Christmas morning as he resumes shaving, secure in the knowledge that he’s going to get some from me tonight.
As we walk into the burn ward of the hospital, it hits me hard. When I was stuck here, I never would have believed that I could ever feel pretty, or even passably attractive, ever again. But Jett makes me feel more beautiful and confident than I did before the fire. He truly doesn’t care that I have a slight limp or that scars slash across my right side.
He sees and loves the real me so much that I’ve begun to love myself again, and that gift is priceless.
When we arrive for our volunteer time, the angry, self-conscious teenage girl that arrived last week refuses once more to make eye contact with us.
We make the rounds, reading to the kids and sitting with the adults. Some of the grown-ups want to talk, while others just want us to sit quietly and hold their hands.
When we arrive at the teen girl’s bedside, she mumbles without looking in our direction, “Go away.”
“If you really want us to, we’ll leave you alone,” I assure her, not wanting to push her too much. Last week, we’d given her space, as she requested.
When she turns her gaze up at us for the first time, her eyes widen as she looks at Jett. Glaring at the scars on my face, she asks, “What is a gorgeous man, like that, doing with you?”
There was a time, not long ago, when her harsh question would have cut me to the core, but now, I am simply inspired to help the hurting girl in any way I can.
“I don’t have any idea. I guess I’m one lucky lady,” I answer truthfully.
