Page 4 of Gorgeous Misery

“Your house.” She says this with a total straight face.

But I can’t stop my smile. “Is that right?”

“Mm-hmm. I figured… fuck it, right? You’re gonna stay at my house while I’m gone, I might as well stay at yours while you’re gone.”

I press my lips together and nod. “Seems fair to me.”

“So what do you want?”

“You.”

Her eyes go lazy. Almost a look of indifference or boredom.

But it’s not indifference or boredom.

It’s a challenge.

One I am definitely up for.

Making love to an assassin should always come with caution, and making love to Wendy Gale comes with a lot more than that. But I’m careful as I walk towards her and place my hands on her hips. She smiles at me. That’s the best part of every time we reunite. She’s so happy.

I love Happy Wendy.

“Why are you looking at me that way?”

I reach up and drag a stray piece of hair away from her eye and tuck it behind her ear. She shakes her head, removes the carefully placed strand of wayward hair, and cocks her head at me. “Why are you looking at me that way?”

It comes out snappish. But she’s not being mean and she’s not angry. She’s just uncomfortable because we’re at a point now where decisions have to be made.

What are we?

Where is this going?

How in the hell will we ever be able to get there?

“You think way too much,” I say.

She grins and cocks a hip now. “At least I’m careful.”

Both of my hands rise—slowly—so I can cup her face. She stares up into my eyes, black pupils shining, and I see our past in my own reflection. “I’m careful.”

It comes out serious. More serious than I intended, but she gets it and her body relaxes. “So kiss me then. Let’s get on with it.”

I can’t stop the smile, and neither can she, so when our lips touch, this smile exchanges between us. It’s like a happiness transfer. That’s what I give her. But she gives me trust.

When I back away, I take her hand and lead her into her bedroom. I bought a ton of candles for this reunion. Three-foot-tall pillars. Candelabras. Several dozen votives. It’s magical.

Because that’s what Wendy deserves.

If ever there was a girl who needed the happily ever after—deserved the happily ever after—it is this one right here.

“Stop looking at me.”

I can’t. I can’t stop looking at her. I will never want to stop looking at her. And I don’t even know how this happened. I don’t even know how I fell in love with her.

Am I in love with her? Or is this just our predetermined inevitability?

Is she just the only girl left? Is she just the default love interest?