“I’m asking a lot of her, Ford. I know that.”
He nods. “Yeah, you are, but it’s more than that. You know what Granny always says. You need to be open to love. And when you find it, hold on to it.”
“I know that. Hell, Ford, she’s been telling us that since we were little.”
He looks at the front door and back at me. “All I’m saying is you are so closed off. Hell, I’ve been through an ugly divorce, and you’re more closed off to love than I am. I just want you to think about it. Could you have found it and not realized it yet?”
He squeezes my shoulder one more time. “I’ll see you Saturday. Call me if you need anything before then.”
It’s not until my brother is in his car that his words hit me, and I understand what he’s trying to tell me. Damn, I thought this would all be simple, but it’s not simple at all.
I go back inside and make it to my office before closing the door behind me. Isabella has set down on the couch, and she looks at me when I come in. “You okay? Did they give you more crap about what we’re doing?”
I move to sit next to her. “No. I think they’ve accepted it.”
She nods. “That’s good. Right? I mean you still want to do this, right? You still want to get married?”
She’s watching me closely, and I put my hand on her knee. “Yeah, Bella. I still want to get married. That won’t change.”
She moistens her lip. “Why do you call me that? Everyone else calls me Isabella or Issi.”
It’s only now that I notice the glassy effect of her eyes, and I remember that she was drinking earlier. “How much did you have to drink?”
She looks up at the ceiling and back at me. “I had planned on one drink, but Carlotta talked me into having a second.” She holds her hands up, and her beautiful eyes widen. “But don’t worry. It was beer, nothing hard, and I’ll be sober in the morning when my shift starts. I would never put G in any danger.”
I push a piece of hair off her shoulder. “I know you wouldn’t.” I study her face and try not to get lost in the gold flecks of her dark eyes. “I call you Bella because it’s a good name for you.”
She scrunches her nose up and shakes her head. “No, it really isn’t. I’ve tried to figure it out, and I’m thinking you’re playing with me.”
I rear back, surprised. “Playing with you? What do you mean?”
“You know. How they call the big guy Tiny. You’re calling the frumpy girl beautiful. If that’s the case, I’d rather you call me Issi... or even Isabella.”
“I call you Bella because you’re beautiful.”
She starts to laugh, and I put my hand to her chin to make her look at me. It pains me to know that she thinks I’ve been making fun of her with the nickname. “Look at me, Bella.”
She finally lifts her eyes to me. “You are beautiful, Bella. Both inside and out. The way you care for my grandmother, your friends, my brothers... for me.”
She looks so sad, and it kills me that she doesn’t believe a word I’m saying. “I wouldn’t lie to you. You’re beautiful, Bella.”
It’s like a mask drops over her face. She tries to hide every reaction from me, and I’m not having it. She lifts her shoulders in a shrug as if this conversation is over. “Okay, whatever, Lucas.”
“Whatever, Lucas.” I mimic her. “Listen to me. You’re beautiful.”
She puts her hand on my arm. “Stop, okay? You don’t have to say that. You don’t. I know what I am. I’ve seen the women you date, and I don’t look anything like them. But I’m perfectly fine with who I am... I like who I am. If you say you’re not making fun of me with the nickname, I believe you. Can we just drop it?”
Fuck me. She wants to drop it, and I should do as she asks. Her face is red. This conversation is obviously embarrassing her, but I can’t let it go. I won’t.
I pull her until she’s sitting with her ass in my lap and her legs hanging to the side. She struggles, but I don’t let her go. “What are you doing, Lucas? I’m too big to be sitting in your lap.”
I laugh at first and then I groan because the more she moves, the more my body starts to react at having her near. “Stop,” I demand.
She stops moving. Hell, I think she stops breathing. I circle my arms around her and pull her against my chest. “Breathe.”
She lets out a breath, and I squeeze her hip. “I call you Bella because you’re beautiful. I could say it’s because of how you take care of Granny... or I can say it’s because of what a good heart you have. Fuck, Bella, there’s like a hundred things about you that make you beautiful because I mean you’re beautiful. I like to look at you. I like to watch you dance. You make me think things I shouldn’t fucking be thinking. And if you don’t believe what I’m telling you... do you feel it? Can you feel my attraction to you? Because that’s not something I can make up or force.” I don’t mean to be crude, but it’s important to me that she understands. I lift my hips up, and there’s no way she doesn’t feel the hard proof of my desire against her hip. Her eyes widen when I raise up, and she puts her arms around my neck. I slide her up my lap even though it’s painful. I won’t stop though until she knows, and she believes me.