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My beautiful Christmas Miracle is crying. And I’m the cause. Balling my hands into fists, I resist the urge to use my discarded fork to pry my own heart out of my chest as an apology.
But I’m choosing courage. I’m going to work as hard as I can today to put something together that’s both beautiful and delicious in front of the judges. In front of Michael. And when I’m finally forced to look at him, rather than avoid his gaze—as I’ve been doing up until now—I’m going to meet his eyes with a calm smile on my face.
“You deserve gentle. You deserve tender. But that’s not what you’re getting tonight.” I rock my length against her. “You scared me today. When I couldn’t find you—” I cut myself off and slide my mouth over to her ear. “Good girls get sweet things. Naughty girls get it rough. And you’ve been very naughty.”
Michael looks into my eyes from inches away, and a physical roll of emotion sweeps through my soul. A tremendous feeling of rightness rests over my heart. And I know this is it. This is the man I’m going to spend my life with.
