Page 70 of Better Not Pout
I realize that I’m putting the cart way before the horse because we’ve only been together for a year, but it’s impossible not to imagine forever with this man. Just when I think that Icouldn’t possibly fall more in love with him, he does something that makes me fall all over again, even harder than before.
I’m wholly convinced that he’s perfect. That he has absolutely zero flaws.
Okay, fine, maybe a couple. He has atrocious taste in coffee. And he’s like a human heater at night, but I honestly don’t mind that too much because his farmhouse gets ungodly chilly in the winter.
Ourhouse, I mean.
I’ve officially been moved in for a month now, and I got to decorate it for the first time for the holidays. Wells barely even grumbled, even when I had him move said decorations three times because the feng was not shui-ing.
I miss my apartment above the store sometimes. Mostly all of the memories that I had there over the years, but there’s no doubt in my mind that being with Wells is exactly where I’m meant to be.
“You ready, Sugar?” he says, placing a hand at the small of my back and giving me a smile.
I nod. “Yes. I’m so excited to see everyone again.”
When he takes my hand, twining our fingers together, and starts guiding me toward our cabin instead of his parents’, where we’re expected for dinner soon, I look up at him, my brows furrowed in confusion.“Wait, why are w?—”
“Just need to stop by the cabin for a second. C’mon,” he says.
Maybe he just wants to get the fire started before going to his parents’.
I have lots of ideas for the rug that’s in front of that fire.
Grinning, I follow him through the open door and wait as he closes it behind us and turns to face me.
My gaze flits to the… already lit fire that’s crackling in the fireplace.
I’m running out of reasons why he’d bring us here, knowing that we’re supposed to be at his parents’.
“I got you something,” Wells says, tossing me my favorite smirk.
“Oh?” I arch a brow. “That’swhy you brought me here?”
He simply shrugs, and that smirk widens into a full-blown smile that lights up his handsome face and makes my heart leap, swelling in my chest.
That smile has the same effect on me as it did in the beginning, maybe even more now that I know the man behind it.
“Wells Jude McCoy, you better not have brought me in h?—”
“Sugar.” Cutting me off, he laughs, then steps closer, sliding his arm around my waist and pulling me to him. “Trust me when I say I’d love to start this weekend right here, buried between your thighs and worshiping every inch of you… but that is not why I brought you in here.”
Even though I told him it shouldn’t be the reason, I poke my lips out in a pout that has him chuckling. “Later. I promise. For now…”
He trails off, reaching into his back pocket and pulling out a plain white envelope, holding it up between us.
My heart stutters.
“Is it a letter?”
Wells shrugs. “Could be. Open it, Rosalie.”
As I take it from him, he steps back, giving me space to tear it open and unfold the paper. I can feel his eyes on me as I read the first line.
Dear Santa,
I can’t believe I’m writing a letter to you right now, but I think it goes to show that there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for Rosalie Sullivan.
Listen, big guy, I’m fuc—freaking crazy about her. I love this woman more than I ever thought possible to love another person.
