Until You're Mine

Tuesday, July 14th

I could watch her all day. The way she curls her hair. The way she puts her makeup on. The way she does her laundry. Even the way she drinks a cup of tea. 

Too bad she doesn’t know I exist. 

At least not yet. But that’s about to change. 

The sound of my knuckles rapping against the solid oak door echoes in the courtyard. In the distance, a dog barks at my intrusion on this peaceful summer evening. 

My heart rate quickens at the sound of her approaching footsteps. Thump thump thump. The blood rushing in my ears drowns out the yappy dog still barking a few yards down. 

She opens the door and looks up at me, her face breaking out in a smile that extinguishes all the noise in my head. 

Woosh. 

My mouth feels dry, my throat constricting. Or did my tongue grow, cutting off my oxygen? It suddenly felt too big in my mouth. 

“That was fast!” Her voice is light, wrapping around my heart and squeezing. “Come on in!” She opens the door wider, welcoming me into her apartment, no questions asked. 

Doesn’t she know how dangerous that is? 

“The security system is this way.” She leads me through her home, and I act like I don’t already know the way. 

It’s nice to see her place in person for a change, though. There are details you just can’t pick out on a screen. Like the faint smell of roses from the fresh-cut flowers in the vase that sits in the hallway. Or the intricate details of the frame that holds a photo of her and her mother. Or the titles of the books on the bookshelf in her living room. Or the way her shorts fit and the way her tank top rides up, revealing a perfect sliver of skin.

I groan and fight the urge to run my fingers along the small of her back. 

She comes to a stop at the security panel by the back door. Opening the cover, she enters her security code. “Every time I arm the system, it does this.” As she punches the last number, an ear-splitting alarm blares through her apartment. She covers an ear with one hand and enters her code again with the other to disarm the system. 

I clear my throat, hoping my voice comes back before I speak. “That’s an unfortunate problem to have.”

She laughs. And I vow to do whatever it takes to make her laugh as often as possible. The sound of her laughter could cure depression, I’m certain of it. 

“That’s why I called you.” She smiles at me, and I have to keep myself from kissing her. Just because I already know everything about her doesn’t mean kissing in the first five minutes is acceptable behavior. I’m still a stranger to her. 

“Can you fix it?” Her hazel eyes are filled with hope as she waits for my answer. 

“That’s my job.” I return her smile. "It will be a piece of cake."

After all, I’m the one who created the problem. 

She claps her hands and does a little bounce of joy. My eyes flick to her chest, but I don’t let them linger. “You’d be a lifesaver!”

Oh, if she only knew. 

“Happy to help.” I tip my hat at her, and a pink blush paints her cheeks. 

“I’ll leave you to it.” She turns and walks away. Soon, she won’t be able to leave me, so I enjoy the view while it lasts. 

I turn to the security panel she’s trusted me to fix. I know exactly what the problem is, and I have absolutely no intentions of fixing it. 

I make a show of pulling some tools out and digging around in the panel before I tell her I can’t fix it tonight. The disappointment in her eyes just about breaks me. But I promise her I’ll be back tomorrow to finish the job. 

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Wednesday, July 15th

I arrive as soon as she gets home from work. Her face lights up when she sees me, and she once again welcomes me inside. She’s the sweet doe-eyed beauty, and I’m the hunter stalking her down until she’s mine. She’s none the wiser. 

She’s changed out of her work uniform into another set of shorts and a tight t-shirt. 

She’s comfortable around me. 

That’s good. 

Pulling up a chair, she keeps me company while I work. She giggles and blushes and offers me sweet tea, which I accept. I ask questions about her, like I don’t already know the answer, and she tells me about her life. About her mom who she never gets to see. About the job she moved here for but secretly hates. About the lousy boyfriend that just dumped her. 

I set my tools down and turn my darkened gaze to her. “Anyone who’d let you go is an idiot.”

I hear the breath as it leaves her lungs. The air is still and thick as an unspoken tension draws us together. 

Before reason catches up to her, our clothes are on the kitchen floor and I’m in her bed, her hand tracing lazy circles across my chest. Her laugh is nervous as she asks me what just happened. I run my fingers through her auburn curls and reply with a kiss, reigniting the flame. 

Darkness eventually descends, but I make no move to leave. And she doesn’t ask me to. 

I wake in her bed, our limbs still entwined. I roll over and leave a trail of kisses along her shoulder, rousing her from her dreams. I move my kisses downward, wondering if she likes it as much in the morning as she did last night. 

She does. 

She makes breakfast for us both and tells me she has the day off. She gives me a suggestive look, but I finish my breakfast, wash the dishes, and give her a lingering kiss before I return to the security panel to finish the job, her eyes watching my every move, setting my nerves on fire. 

This time I do fix the problem. 

It did it’s job. I don’t need it anymore. 

Besides, I can’t have anyone else breaking into her life. I need to know that she’s safe. 

Before I leave, I pull her in for a long kiss. She’s breathless when I pull away. 

“Go out to dinner with me?”

Her eyes widen. I know we skipped a couple of steps, but dinner feels right. I need to make her mine. 

“Dinner?” I ask again. “Let’s do this right.”

She pulls her bottom lip between her teeth. I catch her chin in my fingers, rubbing her lip with my thumb. I lean down and place a soft kiss on her lips. 

“Okay,” she whispers, eyes half closed. 

I let go of her despite everything in me screaming to lock her away so the rest of the world can’t have her. I take a step back through the door and grasp one of her hands, bringing it to my lips. My kiss grazes her knuckles, and her breath staccatos as she struggles to catch it. Looking up through my lashes, I find flames dancing in her eyes.

But I need to leave her wanting more.

“I’ll pick you up at six.” The afternoon sun is beating down on me, but it’s her gaze that burns me as I walk away. 

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4 Months Later...

My bride floats down the aisle, her gown fluttering around her. 

Just a few more steps until she’s mine. 

No more spying on her every moment we’re not together because we’ll always be together. ‘Til death do us part. 

She reaches the alter, and I take her shaky hands in mine, bringing them to my lips for a kiss. Every time I do that, desire pools in her eyes. But that will have to wait for later. 

We exchange vows. She doesn’t make it through hers without crying as she promises to love me and cherish me for as long as we both shall live. I return the same vows, promising to never let her go. Whatever it takes, she will always be mine. 

She’s always been mine since the moment I laid eyes on her in the 9th grade. She just didn’t know it then. 

I’m the reason every boy she ever went out with stopped calling. I’m the reason no one asked her to her senior prom. 

She escaped me for a while when she moved across the country, but when I finally found her, I’m the reason that deadbeat boyfriend dumped her, too. It was embarrassing how easy it was to convince him to walk away. 

The minister tells me I can kiss my bride, and I pull her close. My lips devour hers with a hunger that will never be satisfied. I don’t care who’s watching, but the minister does. He clears his throat and laughs off the awkwardness he’s feeling as I claim my wife in front of him. 

I can take care of him, too, if needed. 

My bride and I turn and face our audience as the minister introduces us as man and wife. I sweep her down the aisle and out to the waiting car. 

At our reception, we eat, and we dance, and we make polite small talk with the guests, but I’m counting down the seconds until it’s acceptable to whisk her away. 

I’m growing tired of sharing. 

When the clock strikes midnight–how cliché–I take my bride home. 

On the stoop of our new house, I push the door open and lift her off her feet, cradling her in my arms. I bend down to kiss her, taking time to explore her lips as she melts against me. 

She’s finally mine, and now no one can have her. 

Stepping over the threshold, I kick the door closed behind us and carry my bride up the steps to our happily ever after.