Page 43 of Sweet Doe
"So you decided for me," I say, but there's no anger in it.
"I had to show you what you were missing." He lifts our joined hands to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to my palm. "And I think I've succeeded."
The kiss sends heat shooting through me, pooling low in my stomach. Because hehassucceeded, damn him. He's shown me things about myself I never knew existed, awakened desires I didn't know I had, made me feel wanted in ways that are both terrifyingandaddictive.
"The champagne is making me say too much," I mutter, pulling my hand back and reaching for my glass again.
"Good. I like this." His smile is soft. "I like you relaxed and not thinking ten steps ahead for once."
"Maybe that's because when I'm not thinking ten steps ahead, I do stupid things."
"Like what?"
Like admitting that I'm attracted to you.
"Like drinking champagne with my kidnapper and pretending it's romantic instead of completely fucked up."
He laughs, a genuine sound that transforms his entire face. "It can be both, you know. Fucked up and romantic aren't mutually exclusive."
"Speak for yourself. I prefer my romance without the side of felony charges."
"Boring," he teases, and the playfulness in his voice is so unexpected that I find myself grinning.
When did this become…easy?
The realization is unsettling enough that I need another drink.
"Tell me about your New Year's resolutions," I say, desperate to change the subject to something less dangerous. "Did you make any?"
"I don't usually bother with resolutions." He settles back against the couch, one arm stretched along the back. "Most people use them as an excuse to lie to themselves about changes they're never going to make."
"Cynical."
"Realistic." His eyes find mine in the flickering candlelight. "But if I were going to make one this year, it would be to make you happy. Really, genuinely happy. Not just content or going through the motions, but actually happy."
The sincerity in his voice catches me off guard. Because I can hear the vulnerability in the words. Making me happy isn't just a goal for him, it's become his entire purpose, his reason for existing.
And thatshouldterrify me. This level of obsession is dangerous, unhealthy, and completely unsustainable.
Instead, it makes something treacherous unfurl in my chest.
"What would make you happy?" I ask, studying the way he watches me.
"You, choosing to stay with me. Not because you have to, but because you want to be here." His gaze is steady, unflinching. "You, letting yourself love me back."
The words hang in the air between us. I know exactly what he’s talking about. I want to deny it so badly, but I’m not sure I can anymore.
"And what if I can't?" The question comes out a whisper. "What if I'm too broken by all this to ever trust you the way you want?"
"Then I'll keep trying." His voice is soft but absolutely certain. "I'll keep showing you how good this can be until you believe it. I'll keep taking care of you until you understand that you're safe with me. I'll keep loving you until you're ready to love me back."
"That could take a very long time."
"I have a very long time." His smile is gentle, patient. "I have forever, if that's what it takes."
Forever.
The champagne has definitely gone to my head.
