I shake my head vehemently.
“Nope. Not letting you talk about my wife like that. You’re hilarious, smart as a whip, and so beautiful it steals my breath.” I’m on a roll now, apparently, because this woman needs to see what an incredible person she is. I havethree months worth of wanting her all built up, and the words that have been flying around my head in that time are leaving my mouth without my say so. My body instinctually takes another step closer to her.
“I’m obsessed with your eyes. They’re a perfect barometer of your emotions. When you’re happy, the gray is crystal clear and becomes slightly more blue. When you’re upset, they’re like storm clouds. I love how lightning flashes in them when you’re angry, and how they shine like pure silver when you’re excited. They’re mesmerizing, mi vida.”
She looks shellshocked for what feels like a full minute, those mesmerizing eyes wide as saucers, before she recovers with a shaky breath.
“Most dudes focus on the red hair, and whether the carpet matches the drapes. Meanwhile, you’re out here spouting poetry about my eyes. What the hell am I supposed to do with that?” She swats at the moisture building in said eyes with a self-deprecating laugh.
“You don’t have to do anything with it. I just needed to let you know. You are not useless or too angry. You’ve been through hell and have come out the other side one of the most incredible, strong people I’ve ever met.”
Her face goes tight, lower lip wobbling for a second. Then, it’s like a dam has broken in her, the wall holding her emotions back crashing down completely. Tears stream down her face as her body shakes with sobs. I immediately gather her to me, hugging her tightly while running a soothing hand up and down her back. She throws her arms around my neck before burying her face into my chest.
“I guess I really needed to hear that,” she murmurs after a couple of minutes, her voice muffled in my shirt as her sobsstart to quiet.
“Then I’ll make sure I tell you all the time,” I promise her, squeezing her more tightly.
“Jesus, I’m getting my snotty tears all over your shirt, sorry,” she says, trying to pull back. Normally I would let her go, but I sense she still needs to be comforted and held. Has anyone ever really comforted her and held her? From what I’ve gleaned of her past, I’m pretty sure the answer is no. It makes me almost shake with the need to be that for her.
Dropping a kiss to the top of her head, I keep my arms around her. She relaxes and leans further into me, the scent of her floral shampoo and syrup from the diner enveloping my senses. Once she seems completely calm, I slightly pull away, but still keep my hands on her back.
“Feel better?” I ask.
She nods against my chest, and I bring my forehead to hers as she looks up at me.
“Sorry again about your shirt,” she rasps. Our breaths mingle with our mouths so close.
“Don’t even worry about it,” I reassure her as I stroke her hair, pressing a kiss to her forehead without even thinking. Her hands fist my shirt, keeping me close to her while we simply watch each other for a charged moment that seemingly stretches into an eternity. My attention is pulled by movement on the counter next to us, where Hermes is about to steal an arepa.
“Those are not good for you bud, you’re having dinner soon,” I lightly admonish him as I reluctantly free a hand from Celeste to have him step up off of the counter.
“We should probably eat before it gets cold, or the birds take it all,” Celeste murmurs as she lets go of my shirt.
“Beautiful Celeste,” Hermes says, apparently in agreement with her.
I love my birds more than life, but they keep ruining special moments with their shenanigans.
Chapter 16
Celeste
I feel like one giant, raw, exposed nerve right now. It’s a good sort of pain though, the kind you get when a muscle that hasn’t been used enough gets a hard workout. Gage is also here to soothe the stinging. My emotions have been locked up tight for so long, and he’s managed to unleash them with just a few well placed words. He’s being completely sincere, too, I can see it in his warm eyes. This man genuinely cares about me and wants me around, not just for my body. Knowing that he feels the same pull between us that I do both settles me and sets me on fire.
We sit down to eat, the energy between us practically vibrating as we try to act normal after my complete breakdown. Despite how cathartic it was, I’m embarrassed as fuck, but there’s nothing to be done about it now. I can be semi well-adjusted and adult enough to own up to my emotions, there’s no reason for me to be embarrassed.
His words made another enormous fracture in my armor, and everything that I normally keep safely wrapped up under it just burst out of me. The way Gage held me through it and comforted me is not something I’ve everexperienced before, even from Tania. It’s always been me comforting her for the most part, it’s not like she could hold me and soothe me in the correctional facility.
“Alright, let’s see if these babies are as good as the ones at the bar,” I tease him, trying to get some semblance of our normal rapport back.
He grins widely enough to make a dimple pop, making my insides melt even a little more for him. I take my first bite while he watches intently. The little moan of pleasure that escapes me cannot be helped.
“I will never, ever, get tired of hearing you react that way to the food or drinks I make,” he breathes, gazing at me with eyes heated enough to light a match. We’re silent as we eat for a few minutes, the birds occasionally flying around us, chattering and playing boisterously. After a few more minutes, I can’t take it anymore. I get up and move toward Gage, and he closely follows my every step with his eyes from his seat.
I don’t know if what we’re building is going to last beyond us both getting what we want out of the arrangement. No one tends to stick around after they’ve had their fill of me, and I know he has a similar mindset because of his mother. Gage is right, though. What if this could be something good? Even if it doesn’t last, why not enjoy each other while we’re living together? It’ll hurt when it ends, more than I care to admit, because I am foolishly already getting a little attached. That doesn’t mean it won’t be worth it, I’ve dealt with worse pain than heartache.
“Something you should know about me is that I like to be in control,” I tell him.
I stop right in front of him, and he scoots the chair back to part his legs so that I can stand between them.
