Page 40 of The One


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I detect the hint of insecurity in his voice and think for a moment before I reply.

“No,” I answer. “You are wildly intelligent. School was my thing but look at what you’ve built. You’ve just learned a different way. I respect you even more now that I know.”

I feel him relax.

“Thanks, baby. That’s a relief for me.” He kisses my shoulder then goes on. “The tattoo was just me trying to find my way. I got it the day I moved out of my dad’s place. I don’t know, in my stupid sixteen-year-old brain, I felt like it made me more of a man. And the scars? Just work. A drill pipe snapped, shot up and hit me in the face. The one on my arm I got a cable wrapped around it at the wrong time, and it damn near tore my arm off. But, truth is, that’s just how life is when you work on rigs. There’s always something waiting to hurt you.”

I breathe deep as a darkness curtains my mood.

“Speaking of work.” I lick my lips, then finish. “I mean, you’re always working, I’m always working. How are we going to make time for this? You’re forever running from place to place. From me to work. And my responsibilities are only going to grow. It could be a problem.”

“Did you hear what I said when your magical mouth was on my cock?” He shifts up onto his elbow, and I turn my head to look into his face as I nod. “And?”

“And what?”

“I told you I loved you, Issi. And it wasn’t just my cock talking. I love all of you. Do you get that?”

His voice thickens, and a warmth covers me as I nod again, wishing I could say what I want to say.

“I’ve never loved anyone. And I damn sure have never loved anyone like I love you. We will figure it out. Anything worth it is worth working for. Fighting for. That’s my life. My work is a battle every day, and I love you an infinite amount more than my work. And that’s fucking saying something.”

“It just worries me.”

“Let me do the worrying. I will move mountains to make sure we make it. This is our shot, Issi, do you understand? I’ve never felt fucking joy before. You bring me joy. I didn’t even understand what that word meant before you.”

I let out a breath and rub my hand over my forehead.

“This is definitely something new,” I agree as he reaches over and turns me to face him, irritating George who moves to the bottom of the bed and flops back down.

“I’m not going to settle for anything less than growing old with you, Issi. Get used to me, because I’m not going anywhere.”

Sixteen

Issi

IT’S SUNDAY, AND I’M sitting in the kitchen on my laptop, working. It’s freezing outside, and there’s a fresh coating of six inches of snow on everything, making it look like a winter wonderland.

The last two weeks have been crazy, with work and keeping up on messages and calls with Van at all hours—not to mention his visits.

He’s flying in tonight to stay for twenty-four hours, and then he has to be back for more meetings with the EPA and his attorneys. I don’t know how the man does it. The stress of that job, then add in this craziness with his sites being shut down one after the other.

I’ve scheduled myself to work from home tomorrow. It’s something I would have never done in the past, taken time from work for anything personal unless it was an emergency. But, with Van things inside me are shifting and as much as it’s fascinating me, I have to say it frightens me as well.

The old Issi would not approve, and there’s a tug of guilt at how I’m changing. I’m not sure it’s for the best. For me.

Things have all fallen into place. But, I’ve asked on a couple of occasions if we could go to his house because he says he has one, even gave me the address. I Googled it, very nice place. Looked into the public records, his corporation owns it.

He seems to always have a reason that’s not going to work, and although they always seem plausible, it still pokes at the insecure part of me.

He’s flown in every other day for the past week. Once just for five hours. I met him near the airport at a hotel. Sounds so seedy, but it was beautiful. The room was overflowing with blooming tulips and daffodils because the night before I had told him I couldn’t wait for the first spring flowers. That winter was getting old, and I wanted to see the flowers poking through the ground.

He had a soft blanket set up on the floor and a gourmet picnic complete with basket and wine. We ate and laughed and made love until he had to leave.

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