The taut expression in his face eased. He curled his fingers around her wrist, tugging her finger away. “Marisa, you better be sure. I know you want the studio but—”
“I don’t care about the studio. I mean, I love what you did for me. But I could have all the studios in the freaking world and I still wouldn’t set foot in them if you weren’t there to believe in me.”
His fingers curled tighter around her, not painful but holding on. As though he wasn’t going to let her go. “You know what you’re getting with me. You’ve seen the worst. How I can get sometimes. I’m a crazy man. If you can’t handle it…”
“You’re not crazy. Oh my God, so not crazy. And I can handle it. Your schedules and your rules. Your OCD. We’ll handle it together. We love each other, right? We’ll make it work.” Funny how, in this moment, she finally understood what Christie had been trying to tell her.
Luke lifted her hand, kissed her palm. “Tell me, princess. I have to check.”
She didn’t need to ask what he meant. She knew. “I love you, Luke McNamara. And I love how kind you are. How romantic you are. How caring you are. And though your logic drives me round the bend, I love how you make me see things from a different angle. And you know what? I even love your OCD because I know you check on me because you care. Because I’m important to you.”
The look in his eyes flared. “Marisa… Tell me again.”
“I love you.”
“Again.”
“I love you.”
“Again.”
“To be sure, right?”
“Yes.”
Checking behaviors. But this time she had a good idea how to help. Reaching up, she pulled his head down and kissed him.
Which solved the problem nicely.