Chapter 51 Prove It
PROVE IT
CORBIN
“You beat me to it,” Mabel says when I find her waiting for me in the corridor after I’m showered and dressed again in my suit.
With the fox tie she gave me for Christmas.
I pretend like I’m hunting for something on her, tugging at her jeans pocket, her neckline. “Where’s my love letter, Firecracker?”
She grabs the tie and yanks me close. “I meant—I was going to tell you I love you too.”
“Feel free to say that again,” I say, on top of the world. The woman I love loves me back. She fucking loves me. Life is good.
“Corbin,” she teases.
“No, really. Say it again,” I urge, unabashed in my need to hear it.
She runs her fingers down my tie while looking up at me with so much love in those big brown eyes.
“I should have said it the other night too. And I didn’t.
I didn’t want to get hurt again. But I should have been stronger.
I should have told you how I felt. Because you know what?
” She gives a bob of her shoulder. “You can have it all. I don’t have to pick between romance and success. ”
I cup her cheeks, feeling stupidly happy. “You never do. Not with me. And I’m sorry I ever made you think that.”
“You didn’t. That was on me. I had to learn that my heart is big enough for all of it.”
“It’s the biggest heart,” I say, then run a finger along a strand of her hair. “And you also don’t have to pick between love and orgasms. Since I intend to give you many as soon as possible. Come spend the night with me.”
“What about…?” She tips her head down the hall toward the kids’ lounge. “Charlotte?”
“Miss Handles Her Own Schedule? She decided, since it’s a Friday night, that she’d book herself a sleepover with Mia and Luna—Tyler’s daughter—over at Rowan’s house.”
“Smart girl,” Mabel says, her arms looping around my neck where she plays with the back of my hair.
“That means you’re coming home with me.”
She arches a brow. “Is that so?”
Before I can answer, shoes click. A voice groans. “Get a room.”
I turn to Theo, glad I’ve got the last laugh this time. “Don’t worry. We will.”
“Gross,” he mutters.
“You’re gross,” Mabel says to him.
“So are you,” he says back.
She tilts her head. “What happened with the goodies and everything for the sponsors?”
Theo stops a few feet away, strokes his chin. “That was just to get you down here.”
Her jaw drops. “Seriously?”
“Blame him,” Theo says, pointing to me.
I shoot him a c’mon look. “Dude, I asked you to get her down here. Not play a trick on her.”
He holds his arms out wide. “What do you take me for? I still had VIP guests. I gave them the treats. They loved them. We’ll place a regular order for our VIP suites.”
Mabel’s eyes sparkle. “You’re not gross.”
“I know,” he says, then walks past us toward the stairwell.
As his footsteps fade, I turn back to her. “All is well. Also, I was right.”
“About what?”
I drop a kiss to her neck. “You’re hot for me.”
Laughing, she pushes me away. “You’re hot for me.”
“No shit.”
“I’m all for getting out of here, stat. But we don’t have to go back to Cozy Valley. I do have a place in the city.”
“About that,” I say, taking her hand as we leave and head to the lot.
“What about it?”
“I think you should get rid of it and move in with me.”
She gives me a curious sideways glance. “Seriously?”
I laugh. “Mabel, did you think I wasn’t serious about you when I gave you a love letter in front of our entire arena?”
She’s quiet for a beat as we near the exit. “I didn’t think you meant move in.”
“Move into the firehouse officially then, so we can be in the same town until you’re ready to officially move in with me,” I say, then stop, making her stop too.
I guess I wasn’t clear enough before about my intentions.
I will be crystal clear now. “I plan to win your heart and your hand. I want you to move in with me. So I’m just going to romance the hell out of you till you say yes. ”
She smiles as she shakes her head, but it’s not a no she’s giving me. It’s more like she can’t quite believe this is happening. When we reach my car, I open the passenger door. “You drove? I can drive you to your car.”
“I did,” she says, then tells me which lot.
We take off and once we reach her car, I open that door for her too, then lean against it. “Don’t speed, no matter how much you want me to fuck you up against the wall the second we arrive.”
She scoffs. “Please. You want to fuck me up against the wall, and you have since that day in the trailer.”
I bend lower, grab her chin. “Wrong. Since the day I met you, and just for that, I’ll show you.”
“You better.”
Forty-five minutes and zero speeding tickets later, my woman is up against the door, half-naked, losing her mind, and calling my name.
It’s as close to perfect as I’ve ever felt. Mabel, falling apart in my arms, as we come together in a hot, frenzied reunion.
Her hands grab at my hair, her lips part, and she moans beautifully.
Seconds later, pleasure barrels through me and my eyes squeeze shut, colors bursting behind them, all the brilliant reds, rich blues, bright yellows, blazing oranges, and everything else in between.
At least it feels that way.
A minute later, after we straighten up and fall onto the couch in a heap of limbs and half-undressed bodies, I run a hand through her hair. “Guess what?”
“You’re getting me a llama as a gift?”
“You want a pet llama?”
She shakes her head. “No, but a llama sanctuary would be nice. Not for me to run though. I have too much going on. Anyway, what am I guessing at?”
I wiggle a brow playfully. “Evidently, I can sometimes see colors when I come hard with you.”
She laughs, but it dies quickly. “Seriously?”
“The world felt pretty red and orange and blue and brilliant a few minutes ago.”
She plays with my shirt, unbuttoning it the rest of the way. “You should come often then.”
I laugh. “I won’t object.” But as tempted as I am to hold her close, there’s something else I need to say. “Mabel, sweetheart.”
“Uh-oh,” she says, sitting upright.
“It’s not bad. But I want to be honest with you in a way I wasn’t before.”
Her easy expression vanishes. “What do you mean?”
“I thought I could do it. Hockey and Charlotte and the bakery and you.”
“You don’t want to be part of the bakery anymore?” She sounds terrified.
I reach for her hand and kiss it. “I would never back out on our partnership. Know that. You know that, right?”
She nods. “I do.”
This is what I discussed with my friends.
They helped me to see the solution was right before my eyes.
“I don’t think I should work there during the season.
I bit off more than I could chew. I can still place orders, and help with dog adoption events.
But in terms of working there? I need to step back. Are you okay with that?”
Her smile is like the morning sun. “I’m great with it.”
“You’ve been wanting to kick me out?” I joke.
She shakes her head. “No. I was worried it was a little too much for you too. And I think it’s good when we realize what we can do and what we can’t. Work-life balance is a thing, and you should have it too.” She relaxes again in my arms.
I stroke her hair, then ask, “What about you? Is there anything you need to make that happen? Do we need to hire more help?”
She’s quiet for a beat. “Well, we’re almost profitable, so I want to operate within our means.”
“Business owners can make hires before they’re in the black.”
“I know. But sometimes I worry I can only do it because I’m partnered with a rich hockey star.”
I kiss her hair. “Well, you are. So use me, baby. Fucking use me. But also, you could do it even if we weren’t partners.”
She looks up at me with a soft smile. “I think another part-time employee would be great.”
I kiss her forehead. “Let’s do it.”
“There’s something else I need though.”
“Name it.”
She sits up, spins around, and tugs at my open shirt. “Get dressed, and let’s go to the bakery.”
The lights are low. Music plays. A pair of teacups sits on the table in front of us—the same ones we’ve used all the other times.
In the middle of the white table is a stack of love letters, including the one I spotted this morning from Russ to Harriet, many years ago.
“Read it now,” she says, urging me once again.
Earlier I wanted to, but I hadn’t earned the right to. Now I read it out loud, catching glimpses of the emotion crossing her eyes as the words about taking a chance, being worth it, and love being the only thing for sure fill the air between us.
I set it down, then nod to the last one.
She picks it up, exhales, then reads.
Dear Russ,
Sneaking around was fun, but what’s even better is coming home to you.
It’s lovely like this, working together out in the open.
But even though the captain said yes—so funny to think of someone needing to approve our love, but such as it is in the workplace—we should still keep sending each other letters, don’t you think?
And maybe someday, this place will tell the story of two people who fell in love between these walls.
Yours always,
Harriet
Mabel looks up at me, eyes shining, as she sets the letter down. “The stories this place could tell.”
My heart swells. “The best stories.”
“Like ours,” she says, then leans across the table and kisses me. And I make a vow right then.
To write her love letters for the rest of our days.
The next day she wakes up to one on her pillow.
Dear Mabel,
You’re my too much and my enough.
Love,
Corbin