But again he shakes his head.
“I’m not worried about bickering,” he says, a hint of amusement reaching his eyes. “If arguments were enough to tear us apart, we were doomed from the start. And if any of our disagreements ever get out of hand, I can think of more than a few ways we might negotiate.” He lets a finger drift up my inner thigh, toward the place where I’m still wet from our recent activities.
I shiver at the advance. “Then what are you talking about?”
“You deserve… everything,” he says. “I know that there’s no such thing as a perfect relationship, but I’ll be damned if I don’t try. Lily, you’ve made me happier than I ever thought I could be, and I plan to do everything in my power to show you what you mean to me. That means listening—and growing. That means making an effort to have discussions where we can share our concerns.”
I try to read the truth in his eyes. “Do you have concerns?”
“That’s precisely what I’m trying to ask you. If you could change anything between us, then what would it be?”
“I don’t think like that.” I place my hand over his on my cheek. “Calder, I don’t need perfection. Not even close. God, can you imagine how boring we’d be if everything was hunky-dory all the time?”
That draws a smile out of him. “Hunky-dory?”
I roll my eyes. “You know what I mean. We could have a crazy, fucked-up disaster of a relationship and someone would still have to beat me over the head with a sledgehammer to drag me away from you.” I wince a little as the words leave my lips. “Or, you know, something that sounds a little less obsessive.”
He actually laughs out loud this time, and I relax a little.
“What are you so worried about?” I venture a final time. “I agreed to live with you, didn’t I? I’m pretty much one hundred percent behind this thing you and I have going on.”
He wraps his arms around me and draws me up into his lap. His chin rests on the top of my head.
“You mean the world to me,” he says. His thumb draws circles on my back.
For a moment, I just let him hold me. I’m still not sure I understand what’s going on in his head, why he’s suddenly acting so strange. If he’s having second thoughts, why won’t he just say it? But, no—it sounds a lot more like he thinks I am having second thoughts. I’ve told him again and again what he means to me, shown him with touches and looks. I’ve shared secrets with him—and kept his own. How can he doubt my feelings now?
And I’m being honest when I say I wouldn’t change anything between us. Those bumps we’ve experienced over the course of our relationship helped shaped us into the couple we are today. Every fight, every misunderstanding, every moment I wanted to punch him in the face—those are our moments, and I wouldn’t trade them for anything.
“Your dad still doesn’t like me much,” Calder says, his hands tightening around me. “Not that I blame him, after everything I did to the Center. After everything I dragged you through.”
“He knows you’re a good man,” I say quickly. “He’s just overprotective.”
“He’s important to you. And that makes him important to me.” He pulls back so he can look me in the face. “I want you to know that I never want to come between you and your father.”
Is that what he’s so worried about? “Dad likes you. He may have a funny way of showing it sometimes, but give him time. He’ll come to love you as much as I do.”
Calder gives a small smile and brushes the hair off of my forehead.
“That’s my hope,” he says.
“If Dad had a real problem with you,” I assure him, “then he’d let me know. And believe me, he wouldn’t let you set foot in the Center. He’s just worried about me. He’s never seen me so… so crazy over a guy before. He’s afraid I’m going to get hurt again. But I know better. And with time, he’ll see it too. He’ll warm up to you, I promise.”
Some of the tension leaves Calder’s brow. He nods, smiling, but the expression doesn’t quite reach his eyes.
Family is something of a sore subject for Calder. His relationship with his own father was very complicated, and the man’s death hit him very hard. As for his sister… don’t even get me started. Seeing Calder look so uncertain, so vulnerable… it scares me. I’ve always known my dad’s opinion was important to him, but I never realized it was bothering him so much. He’s normally so self-assured that I’m not sure how to chase away his fears.
Except, perhaps, with my body. When words fail, our bodies will always find a way to communicate.
“I’d like to take a guess,” I say.
His nose wrinkles in confusion. “A guess?”
“We’re in the middle of a game, remember? I’d like to make a guess.”
He nods, but I know he’s still puzzled by the sudden shift in conversation.
“Go ahead.” His tone suggests he’s willing to humor me, even if he’s not convinced this is the best course of action. That makes my next move all the more important; I’m determined to assuage all of his fears.
“I think you got me…” I glance around the room, my mind scrambling for an idea, but the perfect answer hits me all on its own.
“Pickles,” I finish boldly.
Calder is speechless. But I’m not done.
“Dill pickles, I think,” I say. “A whole jar of fat, juicy, disgusting…”
Calder’s caught on now, and the wicked spark I know and love returns to his eyes.
“That’s the wrong answer, sweet one,” he says. Little by little, the shadows are leaving his face. It gives me the confidence to press on.
“Is it?” I say.
He shakes his head at my oh-so-obvious ploy. “Do you remember what I said would happen if you guessed wrong?”
“I remember you saying you would enjoy it.”
He chuckles. “Someone’s extra cheeky tonight, isn’t she?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” I pull out of his arms. If he wants “cheeky,” that’s what I’ll give him. I roll over onto my hands and knees with my ass—hanging gloriously out of the bottom of the lingerie—in full view.
“Silly little Lily,” Calder murmurs. “You give yourself over to the devil so easily…” His hands slide over the curved flesh of my bottom. His fingers curl, the nails digging into the soft skin, and I whimper at the rush of pleasure and pain.