35. Makenna
Makenna
I’ve always been a snuggler. My mom and I shared a bed until I was twelve, and boy did I have a hard time adjusting when I moved to my own room. I eventually became used to it, but until now I didn’t know how much I missed it.
It only took a split second for me to fully awaken and realize where I was and whose arms were around me.
You know the joy that cartoon princesses wake up with?
They’re singing and dancing, and birds are flying around them.
They’ve woken up beautiful, and probably have fresh breath …
which doesn’t really apply here … but otherwise, I feel like that princess.
Though, instead of dancing, I’m lying here stock still.
I want to soak this up before Malcolm wakes.
I’m pressed against his chest, tucked under his chin, and boy could I get used to this. He has an arm under my neck. And the other on my back pressing me against him. I thought muscles were supposed to fully relax in sleep.
Apparently not Malcolm’s. At least not right now.
I wonder how long we’ve been like this. And how we got this way.
I distinctly remember falling asleep facing away from him, so obviously there was some movement on my part.
I hope I didn’t bother him coming over here.
But would he be holding me like this if I had?
I’ve got to talk with him. Today. No, now.
“Malcolm,” I whisper.
No response.
“Malcolm.”
Still nothing. I wiggle myself back enough to see him. The soft morning light on his face and tousled hair make me pause my efforts at waking him. He looks so content, and as handsome as I’ve ever seen him. This close I can see a small scar at his hairline. I wonder how he got it.
I slide my hand from between us and lay it on his cheek, and once again whisper, “Malcolm.”
He moves slightly. Success. Then he takes my hand from his cheek and places a slow kiss on my palm. “Five more minutes.”
I’d laugh at the request if I weren’t utterly shocked that Malcolm’s lips just touched me. Is it because he’s still mostly asleep? He wraps his arm back around me, pulling me tight.
“Malcolm, you need to wake up.”
His eyes fly open and search mine. “What’s wrong? What’s going on?”
Maybe I shouldn’t have spoken so urgently.
“I’m sorry. Nothing’s wrong.”
He seems to realize how we are lying, and I decide he must have been mostly asleep when he kissed my palm. “Oh, no. You’re upset about … this. I’m so, sor—”
“No, Malcolm. I’m not upset. I just have a question.”
“You have a question? Okay.”
“Do you …? Well, I’ve been wondering … and if the answer is no, that’s totally fine … but do you have some … feelings … for me?”
Malcolm brushes a hand down my hair. “You’re kind, and funny, and smart, and so bonnie it makes my heart ache. I’d be a dunderheid not to.”
Call me if you can get your butt to a reasonable size again.
I swallow. “Really?”
“Oh, aye. I’ve never meant anything more.” He’s absentmindedly sweeping his thumb back and forth between my shoulder blades, and I fight a shiver.
“You think I’m pretty? Malcolm, you’re so far out of my league.”
His thumb stops its caress. “You need to have your eyes checked. Why do you think I came to your table that night at the pub? It wasna because I make a point of seeking out strangers to talk to. I saw you walk in and couldn’t peel my eyes from ya.
With your hair black as night and your moonlight skin, I had to know what colour eyes had been gifted to you.
I couldn’t make out the colour that night, but when I finally saw those blue-green irises, I was not disappointed. ”
“Really?”
“Aye.” He squeezes me tight, then whispers in my ear, “And you’re just the right size for me to hold on to.”
Holy guacamole.
He continues to hold me close, hand stroking my hair, while he whispers, “But none of that has compared to getting to know you. Your inside is beautiful, and intriguing. Your kindness, and sweet, tender heart calls to me. I want to know you deeply and be the best I can be to have a chance at deserving you.”
I can’t breathe. On top of everything he said about me, he thinks he has to work to deserve me?
“You alright, lass?”
I nod against his chest.
“Have I overwhelmed ya?”
“More like shocked me.” I thought perhaps there was a chance that he had little, baby feelings for me. But this? He’s been marinating on this for a while. The simple yes, I thought he might say, was more like an epic confession.
“Hmm …” He releases me and smooths hair away from my face. “It might have been shocking, but it was entirely true.”
I can’t formulate a worthwhile response, much less make a declaration of my own. So I say the first thing that pops into my mind. “Are we going to see the border collies and sheep today?”
He chuckles. “I’ll be ready when you are.”
And I wonder exactly what he means by that.