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Several couples took to the rink, including Bridgette and Cruz. Patrick’s eyes popped, watching his daughter hold hands with the handsome boy, who looked like he was the luckiest kid around.
“You okay there?” I asked Patrick, who easily glided next to me like he was born to skate.
“She’s growing up. I feel like somehow I missed it. I was so worried about their mental well-being, I forgot to notice she’s grown into a young woman.”
“A beautiful one at that.”
Patrick nodded.
“If you’re worried, he’s a nice kid.”
“I trust Bridgette’s judgment. Now, Rory’s, not so much.” He laughed. His laughter was becoming more genuine with each passing moment.
“They’re both great.”
Patrick pulled our clasped hands up to his mouth and kissed mine. “You’re terrific.”
“I think you are too, but I think it would be a good idea to really get to know each other.”
Patrick’s brow hit his hairline. “Like biblically?”
“No.” I nudged him, feeling overheated imagining all the biblical things we could do. “I was thinking more along the lines of important things, like do you believe the toilet paper should hang over or under?”
Patrick chuckled. “Yes, that’s definitely more important.”
“Well, what’s your answer?”
“Definitely over.”
“That’s correct.”
“For the record, I always put the toilet seat back down, and I believe toothpaste should never be squeezed from the middle.”
Those were some of the sexiest words I had ever heard. I was pretty sure I was going to fall in love. “You are totally turning me on,” I whispered in his ear as we rounded the curve.
“Well, if that turns you on, I also love to vacuum and do the dishes.”
“Are we talking shirtless?”
“Definitely,” he crooned.
Ooh, baby.
“I also love to give foot rubs,” he spoke low in my ear. “I would never watch any of our shows without you. I’m happy to let you eat off my plate and order extra fries for you. And I never leave dirty clothes on the floor ... unless ... something biblical is involved.”
The man had me so wound up, I literally squeaked out loud.
He smiled, pleased to know I was dreaming of some holy nights.
“Is there anything you want to know about me?” I stammered, before I did something I would thoroughly enjoy but regret doing in the public eye, and in front of his children.
“You don’t have to tell me anything. I see with my own eyes the kind of woman you are. I don’t care if you leave your makeup all over the bathroom counter, or if you can never decide where you want to eat. You can take however long you need to get ready and have most of the closet space if that’s what you want. I don’t care about those things. I want a woman who limbos with my son, gives heartfelt advice to my daughter, and holds my hand around a skating rink. Hell, I even love that you grocery shop in flannel and get milk mustaches.”
I cringed from the mere mention of the incident, though everything he said up to the mustache part had me falling head over heels for him. “Now everyone is calling meRon Swanson,” I complained.
“Let them.” He pulled me to him. “They’re just jealous. You can’t hide a beauty like yours that radiates from the inside out. Isabelle, I haven’t been waiting for a girllikeyou. It’s always been you. I—”
“Oh my gosh.” Bridgette plowed right between us, breaking us apart.
