Wicked Love | √

Fourty

ICE cold wind spins the pure white snow around us making me feel like I'm in a freshly shaken snow globe. It feels magical. It feels perfect.

My eyes land on the man walking in front of me. They linger on the way the large flakes land in his wind blown dark hair. He treks through the thick snow creating a path for me.

He doesn't check back on me to make sure I am keeping up. He knows I am. He doesn't look back to see if I am following. He knows I always will. He glances back and smiles because he wants to and that makes my entire soul scream with undeniable love for him.

Love for his rosy cheeks. Love for his expressive brown eyes. Love for the way he supports and pushes me. Simply just love for him.

After he said he loved me in the hospital room there hasn't been a day that goes by where he doesn't continue to say those same three words to me.

"Where are we going?" I ask for the millionth time.

Preston told me he had a surprise, but wouldn't elaborate no matter how many times I ask. Not knowing makes me feel uneasy. I know nothing bad would ever happen with him by my side. He'd always protect me. But the stubborn part of me still hates surprises and wants to know every single detail always.

His breathy chuckle warms my blood. "Not giving in," he sings tauntingly.

My eyes narrow, but the smile doesn't leave my lips. "I don't like this game."

He stops to face me and places his hands on my cheeks. He melts the lingering snow and warms them with his cashmere covered fingers. "I promise you'll love this one." He winks cockily, making my entire body flush.

Then he leans in and brushes his lips against my own making my stomach flip and my blood boil with a deep ache. He's teasing me and it makes me want to grab him by his locks and tease him right back.

But I take a breath and stand my ground. "Fine," I relent.

"Fine?" He questions me with a raised brow knowing me too well.

"Yes. Fine," I repeat as I stubbornly cross my arms.

"You've never been less fine Davenport," he says with a full and open laugh that steals my breath away. His laughter used to be so rare, but has been slipping out more freely the past couple weeks. And I've decided it's one of the purest sounds in the world. It's without all the weight of his past and is light and soft, and in those moments I know he isn't thinking of Nathaniel or what lies behind every dark corner. He's without fear for those few seconds and it's everything I want for him.

For us.

"I still want to know, but I also know a pain in the ass when I see one," I tease before taking his hand in mine and lacing our fingers together. "Now can we go to the surprise, it's cold as shit out here!"

"Yes, ma'am," he nods with a smile on his lips as he begins to lead the way once again.

I hate how my entire body clenches with a distinct need at his words. An image of him on his knees in front of me whispering those same words flashes in my mind and my teeth sink into my bottom lip at the idea.

My eyes flicker to his and I see his attention glued to me, and from the smirk on his lips I know he caught my subtle reaction.

He softly tilts his chin down in quiet acknowledgement. As if to silently tuck that little piece of information away for a later day and it makes my heart pound wildly. I used to hate how easily he could read me, but now I love it.

I love how he notices when I blush, or when my mood changes, or what I'm feeling when I'm struggling to put it into words. He knows me in a way that makes me feel secure and seen and loved.