Page 96 of Insidious Heart
“Are you trying to find out my birthday, baby dove?”
Stevie giggles and nods.
I smile as I shake my head because she’s fucking adorable, but I’m not ready to sharethatmuch. “I’ll be thirty-two in a few weeks. And I’m a Scorpio.”
“I’m a Taurus.”
“I know.” I give her wink then motion for Stevie to continue. “Tell me about Margie.”
“She had a rough life.” Stevie chews the inside on her cheek as she looks down and starts picking at the fringe on the blanket. “And she made it into something beautiful even though she still had horrible things happen to her.”
I might be shit when it comes to reading emotions but I can tell this woman meant something to my little dove. Which is why I reach out and place a hand on her knee, giving it a squeeze in hopes I’m readingherright and responding appropriately.
My girl looks up and gives me a watery smile as she covers my hand with hers. “Margie was advanced in her disease, stuck in another life she created for herself, but she always knew who I was. She knew my name and face, and she trusted me. I worked with her the entire time I’ve been there, and regardless of everything that came with her diagnosis, Margie Sanderson was exactly who I wished my grandmother would have been.”
“She was lucky to have you, baby dove.” People say that in these kinds of scenarios, right? That’s a thing? Either way I mean it, and judging by her smile Stevie appreciates it.
“Why do you call me that? Little dove or baby dove?”
“Your name.”
She furrows her brow in confusion. “My name?”
“Stevie.”
“Yes…”
I grin and shake my head. “Stevie Nicks. The White Witch. The white winged dove.”
Immediately, I’m hit with a megawatt smile, one that goes straight to the middle of my chest—and my dick—becauseher. “My mom loved Stevie Nicks.”
“I wondered if you were named for her.”
“I am!” My girl nods and scoots a little closer. “She loved Fleetwood Mac, all of Stevie’s solo stuff. Rochelle told me that, and that she knew if she ever had a daughter she’d name her after Stevie Nicks.”
The excitement she feels is clear, more than obvious really, but I can’t help but notice something else swimming in those bright blue eyes as Stevie talks about her mother. “Do you remember her?”
Probably not the best question to ask right now, but I never claimed to have any tact. And I’m genuinely curious because I found very little about Celeste Williams during my recon.
“A little.” My little dove sighs and starts tracing the veins on the back of my hand. “I remember how she smelled.” My nose instantly scrunches at that but Stevie just laughs. “You don’t get that, do you?”
“I do, actually, and it makes me think of how awful my father smelled.”
“What did he smell like?”
“Sweat and booze.” Now her nose is scrunched and I’m chuckling. “What did your mother smell like?”
“Christmas.” She sighs. “My mom smelled like cookies and peppermint, and a hint of fresh snow. Even though that doesn’t really have a smell but—”
“That’s exactly how you smell, baby dove.” My girl blinks at me before her eyes well with tears, leading me to believe I fucked up in saying that. “I… I’m not really cut out for conversations like this.” I lift my free hand and rub the back of my neck. “Maybe…”
“No, Victor, it’s ok.” Stevie squeezes my hand again. “It made me happy to hear that. I use certain lotions and wear certain perfumes to try to recreate the scent. Maybe it’s weird, but it makes me feel closer to her, so hearing you say that makes me happy.”
“But you’re going to cry…”
“Happy tears.”
“Happy tears?”What the fuck are those?“You know what, explain later. Tell me more about what you remember.”
