The Right Move (Windy City, #2)

by Liz Tomforde

“No. That’s not how this is going to go. When you’re with me, I want you exactly as you are. That includes letting people know just how fucking smart you are. You’re not going to cater to anyone’s toxic masculinity bullshit. You’re not going to be quiet and appeasing when you’re with me. If Ron, or anyone else for that matter, has an issue with you being smarter than him, then we’re going to have a far bigger problem than him thinking I’m not a good leader.”

God, she’s fucking adorable and that pisses me off. Because this version of her, the real one where she’s not putting on a show for my GM or her ex-boyfriend and his friends. The version where she’s not toning it down to be appropriate or appeasing. This is my version of her. The one where she’s comfortable and casual at home and I don’t want to share her.

“Money comes and goes. This is your life. Be selfish for once, Ind. You spent six years catering to that guy’s timeline. It’s about time you do something for yourself.”

I’ve been looking forward to her coming home all week. I even had the guy who owns her favorite flower stand down the street drop off a bouquet for her today, simply because I knew she’d be excited for a fresh one.

The flowers I had delivered are shades of light purple and pink, so I know she’s going to love them. It’s impractical, constantly spending money on flowers that will die shortly after bringing them home, but every cent is worth it when I get to watch that beaming smile bloom when she sees them. The girl deserves to be spoiled, and I want to be the one doing the spoiling. I trim the stems down the way she taught me before adding the flower food to the water, trying to situate them like the professional florists do. Mine doesn’t look nearly as nice, but fuck it, I tried.

“What you offer in a relationship, as a friend, a woman, a partner, by simply being who you are is more than enough. And if someone can’t see that you’re everything, then it’s them who's missing out. I know you’re faithful. It’s one of my favorite things about you, but there has to be a limit. Some people don’t deserve your unwavering loyalty.”

She deserves the gesture. She deserves to be loved loudly. She deserves to be loved in any way she wants. And if I can be conceited for a moment, she deserves to be loved by me.

“I want you, Indy. I want us. I want our little life we’ve built even when we thought we were pretending. I want you in our house because you’ve made it a home. I want your mess and your chaos. I want your genuine smiles, the ones you wear when you’re around my sister, the hockey team, and me. I want you happy, and I want to be the reason you are. I want you to choose me.”

“That’s because you know I’ll give you every fucking thing you could ever ask for. You stopped worrying about your own needs a long time ago, Indy, but I want you to hear yourself ask and I want to watch you take.”

“I love that you read romance novels to feel something. I love that you love flowers and plants because nurturing and allowing something to grow is second nature to you. I love that you experience every emotion so hard it takes over your entire body. But baby, I want to be the one to make you feel how your favorite books do. I want to be the one to give you children to nurture and grow. When you think of me, the only emotion I want you to feel is unconditional, earth-shattering love. Because when I look at you, I see my entire future and I can’t stand to live in a world where you look at me and don’t see the same thing.”