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“Are we eating food or not? I don’t like multi-tasking,” I sign, easing forward so his hands can skate up my body.
“And I don’t like repeating myself.”
“Did you ask me something?”
“What are you thinking?”
Huh. He did ask me that earlier.
“You’re very persistent.”
“You’re very evasive,” he signs back.
I hiss when his thumb skates higher, marking a straight line up my chest.
“So this is my punishment for not answering you?” I sign.
“Think of it more as a reward for when you do.” His fingers move in slow circles. And then he stops.
I shift forward until my face is buried under his jaw. He gathers an expansive breath and eases me backward.
“I’m waiting,” he signs.
“It’s your fault I can’t concentrate. I’m a simple girl. I can only focus on one thing at a time.”
“Then focus on me. Tell me your doubts so I can prove why your fears won’t come true.” Something in his expression makes me pause and I realize he’s willing to end our night right here just to hash this out with me.
My movements are clumsy as I scramble back a bit. Dare allows the distance, his gaze trained on my face.
I frown. “You’re not supposed to understand me that well yet.”
Humor and affection flares in his eyes, brightening them. “I study what I care about and, the truth is, Yaya Williams, there is no one in this world I care about more than you. So explain to me why I saw fear in your eyes when you looked at me.”
Realizing he won’t let this go, I finally cave. “I just,” I lick my lips, “don’t want to lose you again.”
“Isn’t that what the contract is for?”
“You have a lot of faith in contracts.”
He doesn’t deny it. “A contract is more substantial than a verbal agreement.”
“Marriages are contracts too, and people divorce all the time.”
“Marriages are about commitment and communication. The terms are simple. People are the ones who make it complicated.”
“Exactly.” I sign, “Communication is a hard enough task when two people speak the same language.Wedon’t. What if we have more major misunderstandings in the future? Love alone won’t always be enough.”
“That’s true.” He rubs his chin and then signs, “If it pleases you, I can have my lawyers draft a marital contract stating that you’ll get all my assets if I ever leave you. We can also add a clause for marital therapy if the need arises.”
I frown in frustration. “That’s not what I meant. See? Even now, it feels like we’re talking two different languages.”
He scrutinizes me, as if looking for the answers in my face. “I will never leave you. I will never let an argument drive a wedge between us. I will never misunderstand you—”
“That’s impossible. Of course you’ll misunderstand me. We’re human.”
“Exactly. We’re human. Fickle. Unreliable. That’s why verbal promises won’t give you the reassurance you seek. I can’t kill your doubts for you. Yaya. There are some conclusions you must reach for yourself. All I can do is prove to you, with my actions, that you’re safe with me. As a businessman, this is how I show my sincerity. This is how I choose you. Because no matter what option you’re up against, no matter who in the world dares to present a choice to me, I will always choose you.”
He starts to reach for his phone as if he’ll call his lawyers right this minute. The poor guys probably rue the day they agreed to take Richard Sullivan’s shiny retainer fees.
