《To Be Yours》Chapter 11
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"Rico is getting so chubby that I have to use both of my hands to hold onto him," Mila informed Buck as she emptied the dishwasher. He was working on his laptop, taking a break from the rain outside.
"Is that right?" he felt a smile pull at his lips. Mila was talking so effortlessly with him, and he was pleased at the progress she was making. Her appetite was increasing. Her features looked brighter. She smiled more. She was absolutely radiant.
The glass she was putting away slipped, hitting the counter before shattering on the ground with a loud crash.
"Oh no," she whimpered, eyes widening as she bent down. "I am so sorry. It was an accident, I promise-"
"Don't touch it," he said, and she immediately pulled her hands away, not before he noticed a cut across her finger.
"Buck, I am so sorry-"
He stepped around the island to her shaking form. He reached for her and she flinched.
"It's okay. It's not a big deal. I just don't want you getting hurt," he said, reaching again, this time his hands ran along her arms and she relaxed. "Remember what I told you about things like this?"
"My head likes to trick me, and I need to take a deep breath and focus on what I'm feeling in the moment."
He chuckled. Those weren't his exact words, but it was cute.
"What are you feeling?"
She shut her eyes, taking a deep breath. "I was scared. I thought I was with Dave, but I realized I was with you." She opened her eyes, taking in the handsome man in front of her.
She smiled, and he leaned down. She held her breath, thinking he was going to kiss her, but his lips found her cheek instead.
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"Good. I'm so proud of you, and you should be proud of you, too."
She was proud of herself. Normally these things triggered panic beyond her control, but Buck knew exactly what she needed. She was strong, just like Buck told her she was.
He cleaned the mess as she settled in the seat.
Once that was cleaned up, he turned to her. "Alright, let me see that hand."
She shook her head, "I'm okay, promise."
"That's not what I asked," he outstretched his palm, and she hesitated. "I won't ask again, Mila."
She bit down her smile, a little bit tempted to see what he'd do. She wasn't scared of him, she knew he wouldn't hurt her. He was so hot when he was demanding, and little butterflies fluttered in her belly.
She placed her fist on his palm. She had been squeezing her hand to stop the bleeding on her finger.
He narrowed his eyes at her, "Open your hand."
She muffled her laugh with her other hand, and she watched as he ducked his head to hide his own smile.
She opened her hand to reveal the cut. Her palm had some blood on it, but it was mostly the size of a papercut.
He took a rag and cleaned it gently, before retrieving a box of band-aids with lots of colorful designs.
He offered her the box, letting her take her pick. She chose a yellow one with lots of sunshine and he wrapped up her little injury. He brought her hand to his mouth, kissing it softly.
"Thank you. It's all better now," she smiled.
They stared at each other for a moment, a contentedness covering the both of them.
"Buck?"
He hummed.
"Won't you kiss me?"
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He laughed, low and soft. "Is that what you want?"
She nodded, eyes twinkling.
"Do you trust me?"
"With all my heart." It was immediate, no hesitation.
He came around to her side, taking a seat next to her. She stood, moving to stand between his legs. She liked being at height with his chocolate eyes.
"That's a precious gift. I will always treasure having your trust," he murmured, leaning his head back with a relaxed sigh as her fingers tangled into his scalp.
She bent down catching his lips with her own. His hands found her waist and he drew her closer.
It was more than she could have ever imagined. She felt loved and important. She felt like she had conquered the world.
Mila had always envisioned being someone's match would be the end of her independence. But she never imagined that having a match would actually allow her to grow into her own person, or how having someone supporting her would change her entire perspective on life itself.
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