Page 170 of Pretty Mess


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He cocks his head. “Sometimes, but I wouldn’t have it any other way, because it’s also a pleasure that goes right down to my bones.”

“Same,” I whisper.

He steps back. “So, how are we going to spend our engagement evening?”

I grin at him. “I vote we go naked to bed, fuck around, and then get a takeaway.”

He starts to laugh. “You have the best ideas, Wes.”

“You didn’t say that when I said we’d look after Fox’s puppy for the week.”

“I wonder why. That dog is even more feral than its owner.”

We tumble into the cool sheets of our big bed, and I immediately roll into his open arms. Snuggling close, I wrap myself around him like an octopus, not missing his sigh of satisfaction.

Then he stiffens and lifts my arm where a row of purpling bruises are coming up. “What thehell, Wes? Where did these come from?”

“Paintball,” I say wearily and his mouth twitches.

“Ah, yes. How was it?”

“It’s very hard to play paintball when you’re competitive but know you’ve got to pull your punches because the chap who does your yearly review is standing opposite.”

“Oh dear.”

“He’s just lucky he never played with me and Tyler.”

“Correct. I’ve witnessed you playing tennis together. It’s like two gorillas with rackets.”

I look across the room at the window opposite the huge oak bed. It looks down the river where twilight is casting shadows across the water. “You were right about putting the bed here.”

“I think I have the best ideas,” he says, hugging me tight and relaxing into the pillows with a sigh of weariness. He sneaks me a look full of affection and so much love it makes me feel weak. “But my best by far is when I glanced across the room that night and took for myself the young man who couldn’t seem to turn off his mouth muscles and was fidgeting so badly I thought at first he’d been the victim of electrocution.”

I snort. “I wasn’tthatbad.”

“You were bright and bold, and I wanted you more than anyone I’ve ever met.” He shrugs. “Like I said—the best ideas.”

Later, when he’s asleep, worn out by travelling and some rather spectacular sex, I snuggle into him, loving the feel of his body against mine. The bed seemed like an ocean without him. I admire his long nose and the beauty of his face softened by sleep. “I love you,” I whisper. “Only you. Foralways.”

His nose wrinkles, but he doesn’t wake. Instead, he makes a soft sound, and his arm tightens around me. I lay my head on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart and admiring the ring on my finger. His earlier words have stirred memories, and I smile thinking of that night we met—the serious man at the poker table with the blue eyes and the confusing emotions he stirred up in me. They’re not confusing anymore, because I know they’re love.

I don’t believe in love at first sight, but I think sometimes you meet someone who’s meant for you. And Mac is that person for me. We started as a mess, albeit a very pretty one, and maybe a small part of us will always be that. But we’reourpretty mess, with all our sharp angles and edges that somehow meshperfectly. And I would move the world to keep that safe. I kiss his chest and snuggle in. Then I drift into sleep, safe and happy.