Page 168 of Pretty Mess


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“I don’t think you understand how important to me you are,” he says softly. “I’m not going to lose you. You’re far more important than any office.”

I stay his hands, smiling up at him. “Babe, spending three weeks away isnotgoing to break us.”

“You won’t always say that. I’m never going to give you a reason to doubt me. To doubt us.”

I take his face in my hands and stare into his eyes. “It’s never going to happen,” I say firmly. I kiss his nose, ignoring his grimace.

“Must you do that?” He sighs but can’t help the smile in his eyes.

“Yes, I really must. I love you. I’m not going anywhere. I happen to like your chronic untidiness and scattered thinking.”

“Are we actually talking about me or you?”

“And your habit of never replacing the butter in the dish,” I say, talking over him.

“That one is also you.”

I ignore him, taking a towel from the heated rack and drying him while he makes mumbled protests. His hair is longer than usual, softening the stark bone structure. I pull back. “There, done. Are you okay now?”

He rolls his eyes. “Do we have to talk as though I am a child?”

“You are alarmingly similar to my cousin’s little boy who conceals his misdemeanours by simply focusing on everyone else’s faults.”

His mouth twitches. “And how does he work through that?”

“Well, last week, he shoved another kid off the slide, but I wouldn’t recommend that violent solution in your company.”

“I have zero desire to be put on the naughty step.”

I smack his firm arse and stop to give it a quick grope. “Your bottom would cushion the surface.”

He starts to laugh, the sound much less rusty than it used to be, but still with the power to stop me in my tracks. “Are you saying I’ve got a big arse?”

“All the better for me to kiss it, baby.” I eye him. “Feeling better now?” I ask.

He leans against the counter. “I just have zero desire to go through a divorce like Jimmy. Can you blame me?”

“Erm, we’re not married. Has that slipped your mind?” A funny look crosses his face. “Mac?”

He gives me a crooked smile. “Hold that thought.”

“What are you doing?” He doesn’t answer, and I gape as he lowers himself to his knees. Realisation dawns, and I shoot him a naughty grin. “Now you’re talking,” I say approvingly, unfastening the towel at my hips and letting it fall to the floor. He blinks as I turn around and thrust my bum at him. “You have the best ideas, and rimming is the greatest of all of them,” I say, grinning at him over my shoulder. “Don’teverlet anyone tell you otherwise.”

His lip twitches as he stares up at me, his hands holding my calves. “Unfortunately, that wasn’t one of them.”

“Well, while you’re down there. It seems a shame to waste the opportunity,” I say mildly. He starts to laugh. “What is so funny?” My lips twitch as he laughs helplessly, his face creased in amusement, leaning his head against my leg as he chortles. “I had no idea I was such a comedian. I obviously need to take this show on the road.”

His laughter slowly dies to chuckles, and he looks up at me. On his face is love and a deep, abiding affection. He’s beautiful to me, so I turn around in his arms and stroke his hair back. “I’m laughing because I’m not on my knees to rim you,” he says steadily.

“There’s a first time for everything. You love doing that.”

“I do, but not on this occasion.”

His voice is suddenly serious, and my heart starts to hammer at the intent look on his face. “And what is this occasion?” I whisper.

He studies me for a long few seconds. “Look behind you. There’s a small box by the soap.”

I turn and see the box. It’s red velvet. I swallow hard. “Mac?”