The car lurched to a stop, the door flew open, and she threw herself out. He jumped out, too, only to hear her scream, “I don’t want to talk about it!”
“Fine!” he shouted back. “I’ll do the talking. I love you, and by damn I’m not ashamed of it, and you may not have as much baggage as I do, but don’t pretend you don’t have some with all those losers you attached yourself to.”
“Only two!”
“And only two for me, so we’re even!”
“Not even close!” They were fifteen feet apart and she was still screaming. “My two were self-centered assholes! Yours were homicidal nutcases!”
“Kenley wasn’t homicidal!”
“Close enough. And all I did after my breakups was watch Big Bang reruns and gain five pounds! That’s not the same as doing penance for the rest of your life.”
“Not anymore!” He was shouting as loud as she, and he hadn’t moved, either. His brain was jumbled. His throat raw. Every part of his body ached. She, on the other hand—with her electrified hair and blazing eyes—looked like a vengeful goddess at the height of her powers.
He stalked toward her. “I want a life with you, Annie. I want to make love with you until you can’t walk. And have kids with you. I’m sorry it took me so long to figure out, but I’m not exactly used to having love feel good.” He poked his finger in the rough direction of her face. “You talked about being a romantic. Romance is nothing! It’s a tiny word that doesn’t come close to what I feel for you. And I know sooner or later you’re going to find out about that damned chair, but that’s the way I do things! And from now on—”
“Chair?”
Shit. Now he was looking into both flaring nostrils and flaming hazel demon eyes.
“You’re the one who bought the chair!” she exclaimed.
He couldn’t show any weakness. “Who the hell else loves you enough to buy that ugly piece of crap?”
Her mouth was open again, and he was so wrung out that even his hair hurt, but he kept at her. “The job offer I have for you is real. I started a new book—one you’ll actually like—but I don’t want to talk about that now. I want to talk about us making a life together, and my getting a chance to show you that what I feel is bright and strong without any shadows hanging around. That’s what I want to show you.”
He yearned to tell her about Diggity. And tell her again that he wanted kids with her, in case she’d missed it the first time. He wanted to kiss her until she was dizzy. Make love with her until she couldn’t think straight. He would have done all that by now except she sat down. Right in the middle of the muddy road. As if her legs were useless. That put an end to his tirade as nothing else could have.
He went to her. Knelt next to her. A watery beam of sunlight found its way through the trees and played hide-and-seek with her cheekbones. The honey brown snarl of curls he loved so much had launched a full-out skirmish around her face—the most beautiful face he’d ever seen, brimming with life, animated with all the emotions that made up who she was.
“You okay?” he asked.
She didn’t respond, and Annie without words scared him, so he plunged back in. “I want a life with you. I can’t imagine a life with anyone else. Will you at least think about it?”
She nodded, but it was a wobbly nod, and she didn’t look certain about it. If he backed off, he might lose her forever, so he told her about Diggity and how he wanted her to illustrate the book he was writing for kids instead of adults, and how much his new readers would love her quirky sketches. He sat with her in the middle of the muddy road and told her love had always meant catastrophe to him and that was why it had taken him so long to label what he felt for her—the ease, the connection, the tenderness. He’d almost choked on that last word, not because he didn’t mean every syllable, but because—even for a writer—saying a word like tenderness out loud made him feel like he should turn in his man card. But she had her eyes glued to his face, so he said it again and then followed up by telling her how beautiful she looked when he was inside her.
That definitely got her attention, so he introduced a little smut. Lowered his voice. Whispered in her ear. Told her what he wanted to do to her. What he wanted her to do to him. Her curls tickled his lips, her skin flushed, and his jeans got way too tight, but he felt like a guy again, a guy hopelessly at the mercy of this woman who played with puppets and helped mute little girls talk again and rescued him from his own hopelessness. This quirky, sexy, utterly sane woman.