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“Hmm. All right, so you eat with your mouth open. That’s pretty gross.”
“Ew. That would be gross. If I did that. But you’ve eaten with me so you know that I don’t.”
“You’re right. Okay . . . what could be your flaw? You steal candy off babies.” She tut-tutted. “Definitely a deal breaker. Those poor babies.”
“Well, I’d think they’d be thanking me later since it’s not healthy for a baby to have candy. But I’ll have you know that while I might take candy from a Little girl who had overindulged and was at risk of a toothache or upset stomach, I have never taken candy off a baby.”
“Kicked a puppy?”
“Jesus. Of course not. I’m not a psychopath.”
“All right. Spit it out, how did you run off these imaginary ladies you told me about?” she asked.
“Imaginary? They were not imaginary!” He gaped down at her. “Why would you think that?”
“Well, they’d have to be made-up to not want you.”
Jesus.
She was killing him. He kissed the side of her head, breathing in her scent. “You were made for me.”
“Hack,” she whispered in protest. “Do you usually move this fast?”
Fuck. She’d grown agitated in his arms. Did she now think this was something that he did all the time?
“No! Listen to me, it has never happened to me like this before.” He drew her face back. She tried to look away, but she needed to hear him. “Never. I’ve only ever had two serious girlfriends. Both of whom I knew for months before we went beyond casual dating. But eventually, neither of them could handle how much control I needed.”
“You blindsided them with your needs and desires?” she asked.
“No, I laid it out clearly. Asked for their limits. Respected them.”
“Then . . . they sound like idiots.”
“I’m a possessive bastard. I don’t like anyone else even looking at my woman. Let alone touching them. I wanted to know where they were at all times. When they left the house, when they were coming back. I needed to know if they were safe. I always tried to make sure they ate healthily. I also liked to pick out their clothes. And buy them things I liked for them to wear.”
“Wow. You sound like a complete asshole. We should lock you up in bad boyfriend jail.”
“I can assure you I can handle everything about you. If you can put up with my . . . quirks.”
“I’m not sure I’d call those quirks, Fossy.” She grinned at him. “But none of those things seem crazy to me. And if you did go over the top, I’d tell you to back off. But I’m still not sure this can work.”
Fuck. She was killing him here. “Why not?”
She sniffled.
“Oh, baby. I don’t want to upset you. Please. Don’t cry.” He’d do anything not to have her cry.
Even let her go. As much as it might kill him.
“Do you know why I’m scared of snowstorms? Why the feel of snow on my skin can trigger me?”
Ahh. This seemed an odd segue, but he’d go with it.
“No. I assumed something happened to you during a snowstorm.”
“My dad died,” she said simply.
Oh fuck.
