Page 76 of Romancing His Heart
“All right. How’re things goin’ then?”
“They’re okay. Loki’s getting antsy. The updates aren’t coming as quickly as he would like, but we’ve fallen into a routine.”
It’s true. The first week was hard. Loki sprang to life every goddamn morning at 4:50 a.m., and I was still writing until three or four most mornings, so our schedules were in severe conflict.
“So, he’s stayin’ up later, and you’re goin’ to bed earlier? You’ve compromised and found ways to work in each other’s lives?”
I bite my tongue. I learned early on with GG to watch what you say. She can turn the most innocent of comments into a marriage proposal.
“We’re adjusting for the situation,” I say evasively.
“Ah, huh. How’s the sex?” She brings the phone close to her face to inspect me, and I can see straight up her nose.
“Jesus, GG. That’s none of …”Well, shit. She just got me to out myself.
“Just as I thought. Now, you listen to me, Runner. Don’t go sprintin’ away from those feelings just ’cause they’re scary. Most things worth a pig’s ear are.”
“I think you have the wrong idea, GG. Loki and I are just friends with …” I swallow the rest of that sentence.
“Yeah, yeah. I’ve heard it all before, child. I learned all about those one-night standards with Julia. I swear ya girls keep me on my toes, but ya also keep me young. Things get harder before they get better. Just remember, life is a marathon, not a sprint. Marathons take training, practice, and hard work, but the reward is always worth the pain. Oh, Lord. I gotta go. Betty Anne will be here to get me soon. We have reservations at the diner. Tommy is working tonight, and we like to get our seats early, so we have the best view.” With a wink, she hangs up.
GG is a perverted old bat, but she loves hard, and my broken soul secretly worships her for it.
I stare at the phone long after she’s hung up. Every day this week, she’s given me the same speech in one form or another. I hate to be the one to break her perfect matchmaking record, but marriage isn’t in my cards, and certainly not with someone like Loki. He deserves the perfection I write about, and I’m no princess.
The front door bursts open with a gust of wind whipping through the air. I rush to close it just as Loki steps through.
“Argh,” I scream. “I thought the wind blew the door open.”
“Ah, sweetheart?”
“What?” I ask, grabbing a couple of bags from his hand.
“Are you, um, baking again?”
“Oh shit.” I run to the oven, and rip open the door as black clouds of smoke fill the air. “No, no, no,” I scream. “GG walked me through every step. This isn’t supposed to be ready for another five minutes.”
Loki sidesteps me. Grabbing the oven mitts, he removes my burned coffee cake and sets it on the counter.
Burying my face in my hands, I want to cry.
“Hey,” Loki coos, slamming the door shut behind him. “This one wasn’t so bad. I think the smoke is from the one that overflowed yesterday. Don’t cry.”
“Don’t cry.”
Oh, Loki. If you only knew. I haven’t cried in years. Removing my hands, I peer up to see his concerned face.
“I’m fine,” I mutter.
“I know. Come here.” Opening his arms, he engulfs me in an embrace.
I may not cry, but I am growing accustomed to these giant hugs of his.
“Another one bites the dust.” Bitterness laces my voice.
“You’ll get it, baby. I know you will.”
As the days have turned into weeks, Loki and I have grown closer, but his easy affection still makes me squeamish.
