“They told you that you were ugly?”
Stroking her back, Chris said, “It’s a fact of life. I have a mirror so it’s no big shocker.”
She cut him off when she raised her hand and pointed the fork at him. Glancing at the fork, she huffed and tossed it into the sink and pointed her finger instead. Indignation flashed in her eyes and he had to fight a grin.
“If I ever hear you talk about yourself that way, I’m going to—I’m going to—Well, you’re big, so I’m not going to do anything but shake my finger at you. You listen to me, Chris Potter. You’re not ugly.” Her voice broke on the last two words and tears glistened in her eyes. “You tease. You’re loud. You tickle me—which I still hate by the way. You’re overbearing. You’re not ugly.”
She caressed his cheeks with her cool hands as she scanned his face which was growing hot again, much to his embarrassment.
“You have a powerfully defined jaw, rugged cheekbones, a broad forehead tanned from hard work. You have a large nose that balances the rest of your face like a sculptor had chiseled it. You have lips that I find sensual and wonderfully kissable. You have a thick neck with a jutting Adam’s apple that I think is very sexy. And your shoulders…these shoulders,” she murmured as she slid her hands to his shoulders, where they met his neck, warmth coming into her blue eyes that had been cold with anger.
“Your shoulders are so wide, and strong, and muscular, like the rest of you.” She looked up into his eyes and the heat in her own made a hunger flame to life inside him. “But your eyes are my favorite. Your eyes show me glimpses of the man you are. They show me that you’re compassionate. You’re loyal. You want to make me feel good. And you’re protective. I swear I’m not just bolstering your ego. I’m telling you the truth. You’re not ugly, Chris. You’re absolutely…magnificent.” The last word came out on a whisper. “Wonderful.” She smacked his shoulder and then shook her hand out a bit. “Ow. I don’t want to hear you say you’re ugly ever again.”
He lifted her hand and kissed it for her. “Yes, ma’am.” She threw herself into his embrace and he caught her to him, enjoying the way she wrapped her legs around his waist and squeezed him tightly.
“I’m serious about the tickling. I hate being tickled.” She looked up at him and brushed her fingertips over the knot that was fading on his forehead. “And I hate that I hurt you.”
He smiled down at her and pecked her lips. “I can’t recall the last time that someone took me by surprise like that. I should warn you that I come from a family of men who tickle their women.”
Concern crossed her face and she said, “That may be a problem.”
“Don’t worry,” he said as he squeezed her to him gently. “I’ll warn them not to do that. They mean it as a show of affection.”
Gwen looked discomfited at the thought. “To me it hurts. Especially at my ribs. Even thinking about it is making me a little anxious.” A shudder rippled through her as she clung tighter to him. All desire to ever tickle her again just to feel her response fled from him and was replaced by the need to comfort her instead.
Cupping her ass in one hand and holding her across her back with the other, Chris nuzzled his lips against her throat and breathed her in. “I’m sorry, darlin’. I never meant for you to feel that way.”
She nodded against him silently and they stayed like that for several long, quiet moments.
“I need to put the potatoes in the oven.”
Reluctantly, he put her back on her feet and set the table while she placed the potatoes and the meatloaf she’d prepared earlier in the oven. She seemed lost in thought as she worked, and Chris was content to mull over the words she’d said to him. She really sees me that way?
“Chris?”
“Yeah?”
“If you want to tell me some of your stories, good or bad, I’d enjoy hearing them. I’d still love to meet your family.”
“Really? You still want to come with us?”
“Yes, and this is why. No family is perfect and everyone has good and bad in them to one degree or another. In some ways, your family sounds cruel, but also fairly typical. In the end, you’re the only representative of your family that I know, and I like you very, very much. You make me happy. I laugh and smile with you. You’re protective and…” She balled her hands and held them against her body right below her breasts. “You’re a wonderful lover. You wouldn’t have those qualities without at least some of them being passed down to you from your family.”