Well, now, it looks a hell of a lot like the right guy is here. Holding me close. Kissing me like he can’t get enough of my lips, my tongue, that way I feel pressed against him.
I wouldn’t just be a coward to shy away from this. I’d be a fool.
Long, delicious moments later, he pulls back with a sigh. “Two days isn’t enough. I wish I could kidnap you for the entire week.”
I tighten my arms around his waist, loving the way our bodies feel pressed together. “Yeah. It makes me wish I hadn’t already taken time off. But I’m out of vacation days, and I just paid for truck repairs that hit my bottom line pretty hard. So, I probably couldn’t afford a longer trip anyway.”
Mick’s jaw clenches and he looks a little uncomfortable.
I arch a brow. “What? You were hoping for a girlfriend with a more dependable vehicle?”
He laughs, but still a little uncomfortably. “Not at all. Love your truck, I just…I have a confession to make.”
“Okay,” I say, silently praying I’m not about to have all my optimistic thoughts proven wrong.
“You know how I said I majored in computer programming?” he asks, continuing when I nod. “Well, I chose the major because I’d already been designing apps for years. Even sold a few of them during high school.”
“Cool,” I say, not really surprised. Mick was valedictorian of our senior class and, if I remember correctly, won the science fair every year in junior high with some sort of computer thing or another. “But why is this making you weird? I already knew you were a nerd if that’s it.”
This time his laugh is the real thing. “I am not a nerd.”
“You are a nerd.” I grin up at him. “But a really hot one. And I like nerds. I always wished I were smart enough to be one, honestly.”
“You’re smart,” he scoffs. “Very smart.”
I shrug. “Street smart, but school wasn’t my thing. At least not high school. I did really well in my EMT courses, though.”
A spark lights in his eyes. “Sweet. So you’ll help me study if I decide to enroll?”
“Of course. Though I’m sure you won’t need my help, nerd.” My stomach growls again and I add, “Now spill whatever you’re trying to spill so we can go eat.”
“Let’s just go eat and I can tell you later.”
He starts to pull away, but I hug him close again and say, “No, tell me now. Or I’ll stress about it.”
He shakes his head. “No, no, it’s nothing like that. No reason to stress. I just…” He exhales. “I designed an app for Naomi’s television show when I was seventeen. It worked so much better than what most companies were using at the time that within a few months, I had gigs to design several more.” He shrugs. “Then in college, my friend Andy and I designed a chat app that we sold for a solid chunk of cash, so…”
I frown. “You’re telling me you’re not as poor as I am. Is that it?”
“Stop it. You’re rich in every way that counts. Good friends, a job you love, an amazing guy who has a horrible crush on you.”
I roll my eyes even as my cheeks heat. I can’t remember the last time I blushed—at all—let alone multiple times in one afternoon. “You know what I mean.”
“I do, and yeah, I have a decent stash squirrelled away. Nothing like Naomi, but enough that I wouldn’t have to work for a few years if I didn’t want to.”
I blink. “Wow. If I took off for a few weeks I’d be strapped.”
“But you do good work. Important work,” he says. “You save lives. All I did was give people a reason to be even more addicted to their cell phones.” He bends, bringing his face closer to mine. “The only reason I said anything is that I don’t want you to stress about money. I have money to spare, and as soon as you get some vacation days built up, I’d love to take you somewhere fun. My treat.”
My gaze drops to the ground as I let out a long, slow breath.
“What’s wrong?” he asks.
“I don’t know,” I say honestly. “I mean, an offer like that would have been my mother’s dream come true, but it makes me feel….” I sigh again. “I don’t know. Off for some reason.”
“Maybe because you don’t want to be like her?” he suggests. “Not even a little bit.”
I huff. “Is it that obvious?”
“What’s obvious is that you’re nothing like your mom and you never will be. You’re strong and independent and have your shit together and letting me pay for things isn’t going to change that. You’ll still be the same strong person, just with more fancy dinners to look forward to.”
At the mention of dinner, my stomach growls again—a long, low, mournful wail that makes both of us laugh.
“Why don’t we head to the restaurant?” Mick asks. “See if they can take us a few minutes early?”
“Sounds perfect,” I say, taking his hand as we turn toward Royal Street, relieved for an excuse to put the awkward moment behind us.
I’ll think about why learning Mick is loaded makes all my nerves come rushing back later.
Once I’m not distracted by impending starvation.
On the way out of the square, I glance back at our tarot card reader. She’s all packed up for the night and greeting a giant man wearing a Security Team T-shirt. He leans down to give her a sweet kiss before tucking her trunk beneath his thick arm and starting for the opposite side of the square.
They’re obviously still in love, so much so the air around them seems to glow a little brighter.
I have no experience with love like that. I’ve never been in love and my mom was lucky to make one of her relationships last a year, let alone thirty.
But maybe…
I glance up at Mick to find him smiling down at me. It isn’t a thirty-years smile, but it’s kind, real, and honest.
So maybe.
Just…maybe happily ever after isn’t just for fairy tales after all.
Chapter Fifteen
Mick
By the time we cruise into Bliss River on Sunday, Faith and I have been together for three days—and nights—straight.
As an introvert, I should be craving some alone time.
Even when I was head over heels for Bridget and up for spending every waking moment together, I had to take regular breaks from the constant togetherness. I play a good extrovert at parties and networking events, but without solo time to recharge I can start to feel a little frayed around the edges.
But I don’t feel frayed now.
The only thing I feel as we pull up in front of the bakery Sunday evening just as Melody flips the ‘Open’ sign to ‘Closed’ is…bummed.
I’m not ready to say good-bye.
I want Faith across the dinner table from me again tonight, beside me on the couch as I draw up sketches for the remodel I’m starting tomorrow, and in my arms when we head to bed. In the past few days, I’ve grown increasingly addicted to her smile, her laugh, and the feel of her snuggled against me as I drift off to sleep.
The thought of waking without her drool on my shoulder tomorrow is enough to set off a depressive episode.