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His scoff vibrates through me, and I have to fight not to react.
Tugging me to a stop, Oz turns to face me, his eyes sparkling with intensity. “Is that right?” he drawls.
Firming my resolve, I force all of my bravery to the surface and say, “I’m an adult. I can and will make my own decisions. I’ll take your opinion into consideration, but ultimately my choices are my own.”
His chuckle is almost…sinister. “Hmm, you’ll take my opinion into consideration?”
“We’re married, Oz, of course I’ll listen to what you need to say, but I’m still the one in charge of?—”
His hand slips casually around my neck, collaring my throat and silencing me. “Your choices are my choices, Little One. You gave me you, and part of that gift was me making sure that you’re taken care of in every way. If I tell you you’re not doing something, that’s not a suggestion, it’s me doing what I need to do to keep you safe.”
“But that only applies to me? What about you?”
“Nope, works both ways. If you don’t want me to do something, then you can tell me,” he growls.
“So, if I told you your job was too dangerous, you’d just what…quit?”
“Is that how you feel? Are you worried about me?” he asks, his lips parting, his eyes wide with delight.
“Of course I’ll be worried. What you do is scary, there’s risks,” I whisper, all of the indignant heat I’d managed to muster dissolving in the honest fear that fills my stomach when I think about him running into a burning building or parachuting from the sky into a wildfire.
“I’ll need to work out my notice. But I’ll let Buck know when I report to base for my shift,” he says, pressing his lips into a firm line and squaring his shoulders.
“What?” I gasp.
“You’re more important than my job. I don’t want you to be worried.”
“Don’t be insane, you can’t quit your job just because I’m going to worry about you.”
“Why not?” he asks, like he’s honestly curious to hear my answer.
“Because you love your job, don’t you?”
“I love you more,” he says without thought, like it should be obvious.
“That’s…” My mouth goes dry, and I can’t think of a single thing to say except for four words that I’m not ready to feel or confess yet. But they’re there, right on the tip of my tongue, so close to existence that I can taste them.
“Etta, I’m not trying to dictate your life, but I refuse to risk losing you. I get that this last week has been a lot. More than a lot, it’s been fucking crazy, but I know you feel this too. I know you want me just as much as I want you. You’re my wife, and I’m going to take care of you. Some days it’ll piss you off, other days, you’ll crave it as much as I crave you. I’ll control what you eat, where you go, how and when you come. I’ll demand all your time and attention. I’ll miss you like fucking crazy every time I’m away from you, and when we’re together, I’ll try to hoard you so I don’t have to share you with anyone but our babies. I love you more than I even realized it was possible to love someone. So, if you want me to quit my job, I will. If you want us to move to town and start wearing matching fucking sweater vests, I’ll do it. I’ll do anything you need, except leave you, or let you leave me.”
Unexpected tears fill my eyes as I stare up into the unrelenting gaze of my crazy husband. “I love you too,” I blurt.
His eyes widen, and his brows arch in shock. “Say it again.”
I shake my head, pressing my lips together into a hard line.
“Say it again,” he growls, the words exuding enough dominant force that he could probably demand I say anything and I’d comply.
“Oz.” I don’t know why I’m fighting this. I’ve said it once, what difference will it make if I say it again?
“Say it, Etta. I need to hear it.”
“I love you.” The words feel like they’ve been dragged from the very depths of my soul, but that doesn’t make them any less true. I didn’t ever plan to feel this way. I thought I’d hate Oz for the rest of my life, and yet somehow, in a week, hate has changed into something equally as complicated and consuming.
“I’ll never get sick of hearing that. I love you so damn much.” Dragging me into his arms, he tips my chin up and kisses me like the world is ending, and this is how he wants to spend his last moments.
I know my mom loves me. My brothers and sisters love me. Bruce loves me. Octy loves me. But I have never felt love like this before. Oz’s love for me is so thick, I can feel it like a blanket wrapped around me. If I let him, his love for me will become the most important thing in my life, and I have no idea if that will be my salvation or damnation.
When I took the job working for Betty, I did it because my friendship with Octy was the closest thing to a relationship I’d ever had. She’s important to me, she helped me figure out a little of who I am, and without her, I felt like I was withdrawing further and further into myself.
