Chapter 39
Nicholas
Blakely flips casually through the loose-leaf pages sitting in her lap. She’s proofreading her latest manuscript, Taken by my Bad Boy Tax Consultant.
Her book titles are utterly ridiculous. Her series has legions of raving fans and dedicated buyers, though so I guess the joke’s on me.
Hearing my soft laugh, she looks up at me. She’s curious. I grin at her, trying to keep my expression neutral. She touches her hand to my cheek and kisses my lips. I squeeze her hand, so grateful that she’s here with me.
She’s done everything to show me that she’s committed to making this work. She even dropped everything and flew all the way out here to California to come to doctor Howard’s with me. When I told him that I have a girlfriend and that I really want this relationship to last, he recommended a few couples’ therapy sessions. This is the first one.
I still can’t believe that she’s sitting here with me, that she didn’t bolt when she found out how messed up I am. I kiss her knuckles and she looks at me like she’s about to melt. My cock twitches just at her expression.
My girl is so fucking beautiful. I consider myself lucky that she’s even willing to give ‘us’ a chance. She says that she can handle my condition. Well, this is the ultimate test.
“Nicholas Sullivan?”
I look up at the short woman holding a clipboard to her chest. I nod.
“The doctor will see you now,” she says with a smile. She points at the open door at the far end of the corridor.
I feel Blakely’s body shift. She’s nervous, think. I can feel her tight energy. I read her better than I’ve ever read anyone else. Maybe because I never cared what anyone was thinking until her. But despite her reservations, she holds my hand tightly. “Let’s go,” she says with calm assurance. She stands, wiggling her arm to coax me to my feet.
I rise and she leads the way down the hall to the doctor’s office. She twists her hands and shakes them out as she walks, taking deep, centering breaths. A wave of guilt sweeps over me. I shouldn’t be putting her through this. I grip her shoulder from behind, halting her movements.
"Blakely, if this isn't what you signed up for, then I understand."
She watches me with steely eyes. "Are you kidding me? I'm here, Nicholas. You've got me in your corner."
Filaments of doubt still linger in my gut.
Blakely takes my hand. "I read somewhere once that the underlying theme of every great romance novel is 'love conquers all'. That can be true for our story too.” She grins. “For the longest time, I was locked. Nobody could get to me because I was shut tight. But you came and you managed to find a way to squeeze inside. And now, I'm wide open for you. I want you to feel safe like that with me, too.”
I take a moment to look at her – I mean really look at her – and that’s when I know that it’s fine, it’s safe to share this part of myself with her. She’s so perfect for me.
“Man – I fucking love you,” I blurt out, shocking her and shocking the hell out of myself.
Her eyes go wide and she stalls for a moment. And I fear that I’ve just fucked everything up with my big, out-of-control, uncensored mouth. But then, the biggest smile tears across her face and her cheeks light up with a deep blush. “I love you, too,” she whispers shyly.
My heart does an acrobatic move I can’t even describe when I hear the words. I lean down and cup her face in my hands. I kiss her hard, not caring about all the people milling about around us. She’s all that matters anyway. When we pull apart, it’s like a whole new universe has unfolded around me.
I’m going to marry this girl someday.
The thought jolts me and the rest of my life quickly flashes before my eyes. Blakely Hamliton is in every scene.
"Now let's get this therapy session over with so we can get home." She walks on toward the doctor’s office. “I’ve got writer’s block so you know what that means – it’s gonna be a long night, guinea pig.” She tosses a wink over her shoulder and I can’t help but reach down and pinch her ass.
I’ve got the prettiest, funniest, smartest girl in the cosmos lying in my bed every night, begging for my cock, my mouth, my heart. And she tells the whole world about it, writing about our sex life all in vivid detail and making a cold hard cash from it.
Damn – I’m the luckiest bastard alive.