She doesn't want
a rich man or a
handsome man,
or even a poet.
She wants
a man who
understands
her eyes if
she gets sad
and points to
his chest
and says
"Here is
your home."
***
Arabella Laker never though that her work would bring her back...
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Tony's eyes followed the two out the door on the other side of the room before flickering back to Bella. A smile flit across his lips as she peeled his arms away from her waist.
"You know," he started while she folded her medical supplies into a bag. "If I was IronMan, I'd have this girlfriend who knew my secret identity. She'd be a wreck." Bella shot him a look making him laugh. "Worrying about if I was going to die yet so proud of who I'd become."
Bella scoffed a laugh coming to stand in front of him. She bit her lower lip gently to withhold a smile and carded a hand through his hair. "Oh, yeah?" She licked over the back of her teeth.
"Yeah. And every time I'd get back she'd insist on making sure I'm not hurt before we'd spend the night with her nails—"
"That's enough of that!" Bella cut him off pressing a finger to his lips. He smiled and nipped at her fingertip, looping his arms back around her waist. "You're confusing."
Tony yanked her down into his lap and let his hands wander to the tops of her thighs. "How am I confusing? I thought I've made it quite obvious."
"Made what obvious? That you're a hopeless flirt no matter who you're talking to?" Bella snickered. Her fingers wrapped around both of his wrists and moved them back to friendly territory. "You act like we're back to being best friends and then you do something completely out of the norm and make me think there's a chance..."
