Page 48 of Love You Already
He kneels in front of me as he moves to slip off my boots. I'm so gobsmacked at the move that I don't respond at first. It's not until he's slipping the skate on my foot and lacing me up that I come to.
“What all do you know? Let's play a trivia game. We'll see who knows the other better,” I taunt.
Lachlan tightens the lace on my foot silently, then moves over to the other foot. When he's done, he remains on one knee as he looks me in the eye.
While this move traditionally means someone is about to pop the question, I know that's not the case here considering we're already married. This fact doesn't quell the eagerness inside of me at seeing him in this position. My brain puts together an image of what it would have been like if we'd met under different circumstances. What would it be like for us to date in a more traditional sense? And then maybe we'd date for a while before he popped the question somewhere special to us both? And then... well, we'd be where we are now. Married and living together.
Is it odd that I almost prefer the way we did it? While not the normalroute for most, it's been working for us. And each new adventure with my husband, every new fact I learn about him, has me falling more and more.
“I don't want to smoke you in a game. Let me show you something first and see if you're up for it.”
Intrigued at the suggestion, I nod. He reaches into his pocket, then pulls out his phone. I watch his screen as he unlocks it and navigates to contacts. He taps the contact labeled My Wife. The little circle shows a closeup of the shot of us on the day the team came out to the ranch. He scrolls down past the actual contact info to show the notes section.
That's the moment my jaw drops.
“Holy shit, Lachlan!”
He's got notes upon notes of stuff there. My favorite movie. My favorite food. Even the fucking temperature I keep my house at; a comfy seventy-one degrees.
“That's not all,” he says casually, like he didn't just upend my world with this discovery.
His fingers navigate away from there to move to his photos. When he opens it, he immediately opens the albums section. There are three. Recent photos, My Wife, and My Wife Likes. The My Wife has a shot of me sleeping in bed tucked into his side. I want to see what the other eighty-two images are, but he clicks on the one labeled My Wife Likes. It's there I find out how wrong I was.
“You definitely win. How did... when...” I can't even formulate a full sentence anymore.
“I've been doing it since that first shopping trip together. I didn't want to forget anything you liked along the way. I made sure to capture it. Some of it I can remember, but not all.” He scrolls a bit through the two hundred plus images showing me all the things I never thought about him needing or even wanting to know. There's a mix of actual photos and some screenshots of things too. Stuff I must have mentioned by name that he went to search for online since they all appear to have Google search bars at the top.
Now I'm the one crying.
“You're too good for me. I don't deserve this. How have you stayed single?” The words rush out one after another, not leaving him time to respond.
His hands cup my face, an exact copy of the way I did to him in the truck when he was crying and apologizing earlier. I submit to the hold, my body losing some of its tension with his stare intently on me now.
“I'm not too good for you, Rose Wright. You deserve the world, yet you wound up married to a numbskull hockey guy.”
I swat his arm. “Don't talk about my husband like that.”
His lips tip up as he gives me that million-dollar smile. “Fair enough. Same applies to you, wife. I deserve you and you deserve me. We're in this thing together. I was obviously single so I could totally marry you in Vegas. Don't be silly. It was fate.”
He presses a firm kiss to my lips to punctuate the words. Then he moves to sit beside me to slide on his own skates. Before I'm all that ready, mentally or emotionally, he's standing in front of me with his hand out to wait for me.
“You're going to have to support me. I think the last time I ice skated was in middle school,” I admit as I move to try to balance on the thin blades.
“I'll support you to the end of time and back, wife. For today, just lean on me, and I'll guide you through.” He wraps an arm around my waist and lifts me up until we're chest to chest. I'm given another brief kiss, then he's marching us onto the ice. I feel like his little doll to play with for how easily he carries me.
Once we're in the center of the ice, he eases me down his body until my feet are on the ground. He talks me through the basics of keeping my balance and how to push off. We practice the moves over and over, with Lachlan never tiring or losing patience with me.
As we move, as he talks, I can see the future clearly. Him on the ice at practice with me on the sidelines cheering him on. Further down the line, I'd have a little mini-Lachlan decked out in a jersey to match their daddy. And even further past that, I can see him teaching that mini version of himself how to skate just like he's doing with me.
“You're a good man, Lachlan Matthews. I hope you know that,” I whisper when he leads me around another lap of the ring.
He shakes his head as he pulls me in tight for another kiss. I damn near climb him with how eager I am to show him what this day has meant to me. It's more than a date, more than two people spending time together.
I've learned more about him in these few hours than I have in the time together on the ranch. Each new thing, each new trait, reinforces the idea of how good he is to me. I would be a fool to push him away now or ever.
* * *
After I managed to pull myself off my husband on the ice, we skated for a bit more before calling it a day. I won't be participating in any professional level ice sports anytime soon, but I did let go of his hand a time or two while we were out there.