Chapter Twenty-Four
? ? ?
My little angel.
Liam
My wife has little wings on her back, and I have kissed them, and every day that goes by where I do not get to kiss them, I lose another year of my life.
This fact is not yet scientifically backed, but I am positive that were tests to be done, irrefutable proof would be found.
So far, I’ve lost one year of life.
I do not particularly want to lose any more, but Amber’s requested space to figure out how she thinks about me.
So I am giving her space.
“Liam.”
Sort of.
“Put me down.”
I glance at my wife, in my arms, and march toward the mailroom where Brian—head of all things Countdown to Valentine—is marking off scavenger hunt items.
Arms folded, lip jutted, Amber glares up at me, adorably, while I dodge employees.
I frown at her. “I need you for the scavenger hunt. Which is mandatory participation. And, while we’re on that topic, I didn’t see you touch your list.”
Her brow jumps. “Because, Cutie, I was working . Why? What are you gonna do if I don’t touch my list? Fire me? ”
“Thief of joy,” I state.
Her head lolls against my chest as her eyes roll. “Good to see you aren’t openly trying to manipulate me into liking you better given our conversation a day ago.”
I huff. “I never want to be dishonest with you, Bambi. If you want to like me better, give me the script for it. I am not unwilling to be what you want. I am unwilling to lie to you.”
“I appreciate that character trait.” She sighs. “What scavenger hunt item do I count as?”
I clear my throat and set her down in front of Brian’s mailroom desk before shoving my item sheet toward him.
He checks off several other people’s items, sending them back out into the fray, before turning toward me, glancing at my list, glancing at Amber, and laughing. “Cutest thing in the office, check. Only one more to go, boss! Good luck.”
The atmosphere.
It changes.
Amber locks eyes with me.
I turn on my heel, look at my list, march .
“ Thing , Liam?” She stomps after me. “Since when am I a thing ?”
“Dolls are things,” I offer, not helping my tolerate me forever case one tiny bit, and certainly not assisting in my campaign to keep from losing another year of my life. Apparently, I am very stupid.
“How dare you,” she declares.
Indeed.
“I’m not even the cutest person here!”
What a silly thing to say while wearing a little black tutu and spiderweb tights. Each of my steps equates to three clicks of her shoes. She is, by far, the cutest person in the world, so—obviously—she is the cutest person here.
“You should have turned yourself in,” she says.
That gives me pause, so I cast a look back at her to find her toying with a curl, eyes lowered, lips pouty.
I run directly into a wall.
Her downcast eyes shoot up as she stops herself from ramming into my back. “Liam! Are you okay?”
Clamping a hand to my face, I sputter, “Yes? No! Are you… Did you just flirt with me?”
Her arms cross as she sticks her nose in the air. Blush tints her cheeks. “Maybe.”
“I liked it. Are you going to do it again?”
“That depends. Are you going to walk into more walls if I do?” Her weight shifts as she scans our surroundings. Rushing employees’ steps stutter when they pass by and find us in the intersection.
Gathering myself, I plant a hand beneath the tiny wings on my wife’s back and sweep her away from the people, down a hall, into an unused conference room. “It is possible,” I begin, “that I will walk into a lot of things if you persist in sneak attacks.”
Her nose wrinkles. “I’ll stop then.”
“I beg you, do not.”
Her bottom lip pouts. “Why do you even want me to flirt with you? Flirting is what lovers do before they get married. It’s romantic nonsense that doesn’t make sense. No matter how you look at it, we’re past the point where it serves any purpose.”
“It’s kind of like teasing.” I smooth my thumb across her cheekbone. “Teasing is fun. Teasing is proof you know what gets under my skin and you feel comfortable enough with me to poke at it.”
Aghast, she stares at me. “Is that what you consider teasing? Proof of intimacy?”
Crap. “Is…that wrong?”
She rubs her temple. “I mean…no? Not exactly? It’s just better when both parties understand that thought process.”
Bracing a hand on the conference table behind her, I lean down and tip her face up. “Bambi.”
Her lashes flutter as her breath catches. “Yes, Cutie?”
“I’m beginning to rethink everything you’ve ever told me about people. Is this the distance between us that has muddled your memory, or did you never realize that I considered teasing you to be proof of our friendship?”
“You were brutal sometimes. Often, even.”
“I don’t always see the clues on when I’m supposed to quit. And you never stopped me where things concerned you.”
Her gaze falls. “If I never understood you…if I only ever tolerated you…if that’s all you liked about me, what then?”
“What do you mean?”
“The reason you want me around is wrong.”
“The reason I want you around is because you are everything to me. That doesn’t rely on your performance or your ability to see into my soul. It hurts to know you’ve always thought I was evil, but I will get over it if you choose to continue tolerating me despite that. In some ways, it means more if you never understood my care yet stuck around anyway.”
Her hand finds mine atop the table. I shift my attention to the touch.
“I didn’t always think you were evil,” she says, softly, sweetly, adorably. “I thought you were stupid.”
Our eyes meet as her words register, then a laugh bursts from me. “Well.”
Her lips pout. “See? I’m not what you think, either. So what are we doing? You only like me because I’m cute.”
I lower my face to her mouth, graze a kiss against her pouting lips. “Bambi, please. Don’t do yourself the disservice. Sometimes you are anything but cute, and I like you even more in those moments. In… these moments.” I kiss again, dwell on the way her fingers latch around my wrist.
Her lips part. “I’m very comfortable around you, Liam.”
“Noticed that, yes.”
Lifting her free hand, she frames my cheek and kisses me just as softly. “Aren’t these moments supposed to feel more like when you were…playing a character and kissing my back?”
“If that’s permission to not play a character and kiss your back to find out, Bambi…I am happy to oblige.”
She shivers, and her grip on my wrist tightens before it releases. She separates herself from me, taking my air with her. “Not necessary. I felt it. From what you said. Just now.” Locking her hands behind her back, she looks down at the gray carpet. “ Oblige is a good word.” She twirls on her heel. “I think I’m gonna go use it. Good luck with your scavenger hunt. I hope you at least answer some emails today.”
I watch her narrowly miss walking into the door on her way out, then I chuckle.
Like husband, like wife, I suppose.