“It does,” I whispered.
“It doesn’t,” he returned firmly.
“Mitch, it does.”
“Mara,” his fingers tensed on my jaw, “why do you think I don’t mind all the shit that’s consuming my life?”
I blinked because this was a really good question.
“I…I don’t know,” I stammered and he grinned with his mouth and his eyes, close up, and it was phenomenal but he added another thumb sweep of my cheek which made it breathtaking.
“Because, you give good Christmas presents,” he stated.
I felt my brows draw together as, still stammering, I asked, “Pah…pardon?”
“You give good Christmas presents,” he repeated. “LaTanya, Bray, Brent, fuck, even Derek, they all talk about them. And they also talk about the birthday presents you give.”
They did?
“But –” I started but he interrupted me.
“And you work hard. Your co-worker thinks the world of you and your boss thinks you’re the shit, so much, he considers you like a daughter.”
I blinked again, my belly getting warm that he got that from Mr. Pierson and I asked, “Really?”
Mitch grinned again and answered, “Really.”
“I –” I began but his hand tensed at my jaw and his face came even closer. So close, I could feel his breath on my lips. I closed my mouth and stared into his soulful brown eyes.
“You look nice. You dress nice. You smell nice. You have a fantastic fucking laugh. You’re loyal. You’re loving. And, honey, every time I’d see you in the breezeway or at a party, it was cute as all fuckin’ hell even as it was just as frustrating how you’d tuck that hair behind your ear, avoid me like the plague and get the fuck away from me as fast as you could. Since that moron you used to date left the picture, I’ve been waitin’ for my shot and it sucks that it comes with you cryin’ in my arms and those kids learnin’ early that life can really suck. But if takin’ that shot means puttin’ up with that shit and comes with you bein’ where you are right now rather than hiding behind your door and retreating into that world in your head, I’ll put up with that shit in order to take it.”
Oh my God.
Oh my God!
“You’ve been waiting for your shot?” I whispered.
Mitch nodded. “For two years and the two years prior to that I watched and wondered what you were doin’ with that asshole who, seriously, sweetheart, even at a glance did not come close to deservin’ to breathe your air much less have you on his arm.”
I had to admit, even though Destry was out of my zone, Mitch wasn’t really wrong about that.
But he was wrong about something else.
And he was a good guy, a nice guy and he needed to know.
“Mitch, there are things you don’t know about me,” I told him carefully.
“You’re right but, we get time, you’ll tell me.”
“I don’t think –”
He interrupted again, “Somethin’ happened to you and whatever that was, you’ll tell me at your time, at your pace. I pulled your Mom and aunt’s sheets and, Mara, seeing your cousin, your mother and your aunt, knowin’ about them, I’m not turned off by it, honey. Knowin’ that was how you grew up and seein’ you now, miles away from that shit, having left that life behind, which isn’t an easy thing to do, only makes me more into you when I was already really fuckin’ into you.”
I stared into his dark brown eyes so close to mine and couldn’t stop from blurting, “What you’re saying does not fit in Mara World.”
It was a stupid thing to do, stupid and revealing and I knew this when one of his eyebrows twitched in surprise before both of his eyes lit with humor and his body shook with it.
Okay, so I sounded like a dork but I was a dork and he really needed to get this for his own good and what he needed to get was not only the fact I was a dork but all of it.
So I kept talking. “It’s against all the laws of nature.”
His body started shaking more, his hand slid from my jaw to my neck and curled around, he bit his lip and I knew just looking at him it was to stop himself from roaring with laughter.
So I whispered, “I’m not being funny.”
Suddenly, the amusement swept from his features, he slowly closed his eyes and dropped his head so his forehead was resting lightly on mine just as his fingers at my neck gave me a gentle squeeze.
Then he opened his eyes, looked deep into mine and he whispered back, “I know but, baby, today, you told me you were with me. And I’m askin’ you now to stick with me and, if you do, I promise, I fuckin’ swear, I’ll guide you to a place where you get that what you just said was fuckin’ hilarious.”
I just knew he’d figured out how weighty my words were earlier.
“Mitch –” I started but he lifted his head away an inch and shook it.
“Mara’s World is fucked up and twisted and my guess, that mother of yours and probably that aunt had somethin’ to do with that. In the real world, the world everyone lives in, including you, honey, you and me make a whole fuckuva lot of sense.”
That whoosh swept through my belly even as I pressed lightly against his chest and said quietly, “I don’t think so and…and…I don’t want you to be disappointed when you figure it out.”
I watched his eyes close slowly again then they opened and I caught my breath at what I saw in their fathomless depths.
Way before I recovered (not that I could recover), Mitch’s head descended but it veered to my right.
Then I felt his teeth nip my earlobe then his tongue touched it then he reminded me on a whisper, “Today, you yourself said I was your Mitch.”
Oh God, I forgot he heard that.
“Am I your Mitch?” he went on.
I started breathing faster, my chest so warm it was hot, my fingers clenched in his shirt and I didn’t know if it was to hold him to me or push him away.
“Am I your Mitch, baby?” he pressed.
I couldn’t talk about this. I couldn’t explain to him why I defended him. How I said he was my Mitch because I didn’t know what to say, how to describe who he was to me because I couldn’t describe who he was to me because I didn’t know who he was to me but I couldn’t allow them to insult him.
I had to move us on.
And that was why I told him, “The candles smell really good,” awkwardly changing the subject and deciding my hands clenched in his shirt were to push him away which I tried to do but he didn’t budge an inch.
It was then I heard the song change to Paul McCartney’s “My Love”.
Oh God!
I loved this song! It was a great song, a sweet song, a beautiful song.
His nose tweaked my earlobe then his lips slid down my neck as his hand at the other side slid over my shoulder then in over my chest then out and down my side.
While he did this, I shivered.
“If I’m your Mitch, you’re my Mara,” he whispered against my skin, his words making me shiver again because I liked that idea, a whole lot. Then I felt his tongue glide along my throat as his hand glided back up my side and I shivered yet again.
Okay, it was safe to say I was losing control of the conversation (not that I ever had control of the conversation) and my body and I had to do something about it.
So, somewhat desperately and not-so-somewhat breathily, I noted, “The scent is really nice and you can tell those candles are good ones. They obviously didn’t skimp with the oils.”
His lips moved on my throat and I knew it was because he smiled then his tongue slid up the other side of my neck to my ear where he kept whispering. “My Mara likes candles so when the kids and I were at Target pickin’ up food, Billie picked those candles for you.”