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He pulled into his garage and checked his phone, a habit he’d had since before he knew of his calling. There was only one message, a nagging text from his soon-to-be ex-wife about some procedural thing related to the divorce.
An idea struck him. Perhaps he could get to Faith through that avenue. It was very roundabout, far more so even than the weekly meetings, but it could work. After all, Faith was complex, but those close to her were far more simple. If he could pull the right strings, he could cause one of her pillars to collapse. It wasn’t the same as killing her boyfriend, but in many ways, this pillar was a far more important and valuable one than the vet.
Yes. That could work. He would still win.
He just had to play with a little more finesse.
CHAPTER THREE
Michael laughed and kissed the tip of Ellie’s nose. Her face wrinkled adorably, and he laughed and kissed her again.
“Stop!” she cried with a giggle, pulling her head back and trying to wiggle out from underneath him.
He kissed her nose again, then again, and she squealed and rolled over, pushing him off. He fell over, laughing again while she scrambled out of bed, red-faced but smiling.
“Why do you like doing that so much?”
“I love the way your face scrunches up,” he said. “It’s cute.”
“But your mustache tickles me when you kiss my nose!” she protested.
“Is that why you never kiss me anymore?” Michael asked, rolling to a sitting position on the edge of the bed.
“Anymore?” she teased. “When did I ever kiss you?”
“Hmm,” he said, cocking his head. “That’s right. Come to think of it, you haven’t given me a good kiss in a while.”
He stood and approached Ellie, who giggled and extended a hand to defend herself as she backed up. “Don’t you dare!” she cried, grinning playfully.
“Dare what?” Michael asked innocently. “I’m not doing anything.”
Ellie continued to back up, circling around the bed to keep the mattress in between them. “Michael!” she warned. “I swear to God, if you tickle me, I’ll—Michael!”
He lunged across the bed and swiped at her. She twisted her hips and narrowly avoided his grab, but as she sprinted to the door, squealing and laughing, he caught her around the waist and pulled her down onto the mattress, where he proceeded to tickle her feverishly.
“Michael!” she cried, twisting and writhing underneath him. “Michael, stop!”
She gasped with laughter, tears falling down her face, and Michael said, “Not until you kiss me.”
“Never!” she giggled.
“Kiss me,” he said. “Kiss me, or I won’t stop.”
“Oh my God! All right, fine!”
He stopped tickling and she lay on her back, gasping and grinning up at him, red-faced. He looked down at her expectantly, and she lifted herself up and kissed him quickly on the tip of the nose.
“There,” she said. “There’s your kiss.”
“Uh-uh,” he said. “That doesn’t count.”
“Sure it does…”
Her voice trailed off as his lips met hers and this time, she opened her mouth and kissed him deeply. He wrapped his arms around her and she sighed softly and returned his embrace.
Later, as they lay in bed together, her head on his shoulder, her fingers tracing softly over his chest, Michael thought how wonderful a thing it was to be in love. He looked down at her soft form, still flushed from their lovemaking, and wondered how on Earth he could be so lucky.
How could anyone let a woman like Ellie go?
