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“Go make yourself useful and pull the suitcases and bags out of the attic. The ladder is in the hall.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

By the time he came back, she’d made an even bigger mess of the bed, having emptied the dresser drawers onto the comforter.

“Is there any particular way you want this done?” he asked.

“Cram whatever you can into whichever bag. I’m not fussy.”

Myles started with a pile of scrubs, efficiently stuffing a duffel. “I can get the rest of the dresser if you want to start on the closet.”

“Okay.” She disappeared into its depths.

Scanning the walls, he noted the display of Playbills grouped around what he thought of as a little starlet style dressing table. There were a ton of them.

“Are these all the shows you’ve been in?”

“Most of them. I’m missing a few from high school. But everything I’ve done at The Madrigal.”

“Which role was your favorite?”

“No question. Betty in White Christmas.” She flounced out of the closet and flashed him a sassy grin. “Because it brought me you.”

“Points for stroking my ego. But seriously. Is that really your favorite role?”

“I suppose not. My favorite was probably Elphaba in Wicked.”

“Why?”

“Because she’s one of the ultimate examples of love and forgiveness and being able to shake away your past and live a better life.”

“It’s ironic.”

“What is?”

“We were both looking for that. And I consider myself so goddamned lucky to have found it.”

She emerged from the closet, her eyes suspiciously glassy as she crossed over and gave him a hard kiss. “We make our own luck.”

Because he couldn’t bear the idea of her tears, even happy ones, he shot her a wicked grin. “Luck isn’t what I feel like making just now.”

“Behave, Mr. Stewart, and maybe I’ll reward you later.”

He heaved a theatrical sigh and sent her back to the closet with a pat to her ass. Back to the dresser. “You know, I realize this is the first time I’ve seen your bedroom.”

“Well, we didn’t spend much time here. Your place was more private and there really just wasn’t a lot of time.”

“A part of me keeps forgetting that. On some levels, I feel like we’ve been together way longer. And on others, I realize there’s still tons to learn about you. Like why you have a purple leopard print thong.” He dangled the item in question from one finger.

Unruffled, she shrugged. “It was part of a multipack and I really liked the stripes and polka dots that came with it.”

“You realize I’ll want everything in this drawer modeled, right?”

“A great deal of what’s in that drawer is not worth modeling.”

“Not when you’re the model. You make everything look amazing. Besides, the entire point of all of this is for me to take it off, and we’ve got an entire house to christen.”

“Ambitious, are we?”


Tags: Kait Nolan Wishful Romance