This Man Confessed(119)
“Morning,” I chirp when he’s a few yards away, sweating and actually a little out of breath. This is unusual. He’s a robot when running, never displaying any signs of fatigue or overexertion.
He grabs a towel that’s draped over a railing and starts rubbing himself on a smile. “Good morning, indeed.” His eyes travel down my nakedness, which is only slightly concealed by the posts that I’m standing behind. “How do you feel?”
I have a quick think and do a bodily assessment, concluding that I feel perfect. I don’t feel sick at all. “Fine.”
“Good.” He approaches the pavilion and looks up at me. “Give me a kiss.”
I lean over and peck his lips, his signature smell enhanced by the clean sweat riddling his body. “You’re soaked.”
“That’s because it’s fucking hot.” He pulls away. “Breakfast?” He asks it as a question, but he doesn’t mean it as a question. If I say no, then without question, I’d be growled at and possibly hauled in and force fed.
“I’ll make you breakfast.” I start walking across the veranda, toward our bedroom.
“Where are you going?” he calls after me.
“To put something on.”
“Hey!” he shouts, and I turn to see a face awash with disgust. “Get your naked arse in that kitchen, lady.”
“Excuse me?” I laugh.
“You heard.” He’s looking at me expectantly, daring me to defy him.
I look down at my bareness and sigh. He won’t be making such demands when I’m fit to burst. I’ll put him off his food, but for now, I’m comfortable in my skin and he’s clearly comfortable looking at it, so I retrace my steps and enter the villa, receiving a swift slap on my backside as I pass Jesse.
If our normal is me preparing and eating breakfast with both of us butt naked, then I love our normal. If our normal is taking three hours to get ready because neither one of us can keep our hands off each other, then I really love our normal. If our normal is me putting on a summer dress and being looked at like I’ve totally lost my mind, then I’m not so keen on our normal.
“Think again, lady.” He rummages through my clothes, cursing and scoffing to himself as he assesses and tosses each of my beach dresses aside. “You’ve done this on purpose.”
“It’s hot.” I laugh, standing in the center of the room in my lace.
“But Christ, Ava!” He holds up a strapless playsuit with very short shorts.
“You said I have great legs,” I argue.
“Yes, you have great fucking everything, but that doesn’t mean I want everyone to know it.” He chucks the playsuit aside and grabs a long, floaty black dress with spaghetti straps. “My eyes,” he affirms. “Just for my eyes.”
“What the hell is wrong with you?” I snatch the dress from his hands. “You were fine with the gown at the anniversary party and my denim shorts.”
“I wasn’t fine at all. I made an exception, but I saw the way men were looking at you.”
“I see how women look at you!”
“Yes, and could you imagine how they’d look at me if I was prancing around half naked?” He nods at the dress. “You can wear that.”
“You’re often shirtless,” I point out. “You don’t see me rugby tackling you to the floor to conceal your body. Lighten up!”
“No!”
Our scowls are in competition, but his has definitely got the edge. “You’re unreasonable,” I spit out. “I’m wearing what I like.” I chuck the black dress at him and retrieve my dusky pink, halter-neck summer dress, stepping in and pulling it up my body.
“Why do you do this to me?” he asks impatiently.
“Because it’s unreasonable for you to think that you can dictate my wardrobe, that’s why.” I knot the dress behind my neck and smooth it down, ignoring the low, rumbling growl emanating from my unreasonable Lord. I’ll never back down on this element of our normal relationship. “It’s not so bad.”
“You’re too fucking beautiful.”
I smile and slip my feet into my flip-flops. “But I’m your beautiful girl, Jesse.”
“You are,” he replies quietly. “Mine.”
I take a calming breath and step into his chest. “No one will ever take me away from you.”
He sighs. “I know, but is it necessary to pick the tiniest dress on the fucking planet?”
I kiss his cheek. “You’re overexaggerating.”
“I don’t think I am,” he grumbles, pushing his freshly shaved cheek into my lips. “Can we compromise?” He squats and picks up a cardigan, and I start shaking my head.