Skin (McCullough Mountain 2) (28 page)

She giggled. “I didn’t say yes yet.”

He tickled her side. “Say yes.”

“Maybe.”

“Say yes.” He tickled her some more and she
laughed.

“Possibly.”

“Mallory Fenton, you agree to be my wife
right now or so help me I’ll make a scene.”

She snickered, slyly slipping the ring onto
the finger of her left hand. “I guess I could marry you.”

He cupped the back of her head and with his
lips still planted against hers, he asked. “Is that a yes?”

“Yes.”

And that was when he stood, arms thrown in
the air, fists held tall, and bounced on the footsteps permanently
engraved in the steps of the Philadelphia Museum of Art, cheering
like an idiot.
Ah, my future husband.

When his lunacy had carried on long enough
she cleared her throat and stood. He looked at her, smiling like a
boy who was just given the best thing in the world and she told
him, “Um, you’re sort of stealing my thunder.”

He stepped aside and fanned out his hands.
She grinned and fit her shoes right over the ones printed in the
cement. She was indeed a champion of the world.

Pregnancy was great. She never felt fat. As
a matter of fact, when she went to the doctors to confirm her
suspicions, he spent a good ten minutes remarking about how proud
he was of her. It didn’t matter. She may have started out doing it
for him, at some point she was doing it for her friends at home and
her parents and her sister, who would always be dramatically
smaller. At one point, she was even doing it for Finn. But in the
end, she did it for herself.

She did it because she felt better. She did
it because she finally was comfortable in her own skin. She did it
for the two little boys growing in her womb. She did it because she
was tired of sitting on the sidelines. She wanted to live and
that’s what she had done, started living.

She still ran almost every day. Not as hard
as she once had. The doctor said it was fine so long as she didn’t
overexert herself. Now, at six months along, running was becoming
more and more difficult. She and Finn would often walk the field at
night and on the way home they’d check on the construction of their
new house. It would be done sometime next month, just in time for
their sons’ arrivals.

That Thanksgiving last fall had been quite
interesting. She’d left for a run, her parents thinking her
desperate enough to make up a boyfriend, and she returned with a
fiancé. She did eat pie that day, right after she served them up a
big slice of the humble sort.

She and Finn got married two weeks later at
Colin’s church and Erin finally stopped sniffing around. Rumor had
it she was now working at the Dairy Queen and had put on a few
pounds.

Mallory had no idea what her body would be
like after the twins. She really didn’t care. As long as she felt
good and her babies were healthy, she’d figure out the rest later.
Finnegan was continuously doting one her.

They made love often and she finally agreed
to shower with him. He even bought her clothes now and then. After
everything she had put herself through, she realized she would
always be her hardest critic. Finn loved her, it didn’t matter what
shape, size, or color she came in. He loved
her,
the real
her, the one he saw every time he looked into her eyes and she
loved him that much more for it.

Dear Reader,

I hope you enjoyed reading Skin as much as I
enjoyed writing it. Mallory Fenton is indeed a fictional character,
but so much of her story is based on truth. I don’t know what you
look like, though you may have seen pictures of me. I’m not
perfect, far from it. My skin has never been something I’ve been
completely comfortable in. Every thought Mallory had, every
struggle she overcame, I have also faced.

I wrote this book, because I felt it was
needed. It was a joy to write and sometimes more emotional than I
expected. Some of the things Mallory went through happened to me.
Believe it or not, someone actually sang Carol King to me when I
walked into my algebra class sophomore year. I don’t know what ever
happened to that girl or any of the other people who made me feel
ugly. It took years for me to learn to love myself, but it will
take a lifetime to forget the nasty things I’ve heard. I have flaws
and I work on them daily, but there are also parts of me that are
beautiful, parts that I couldn’t always see.

It takes less than a minute to say something
cruel that can stick with a person for a lifetime. Just as easily,
and with the same lasting results, we can say something kind.
Before I go, I want you to know one thing.
You
are
beautiful. Be you and be proud of who you are. Our skin, the shape,
the size, the scars, the color…none of it really matters. True
beauty is inside and it takes a beautiful person to realize
that.

Stay beautiful,

Lydia

Award winning author, Lydia Michaels, writes
all forms of hot romance. She presses the bounds of love and
surprises readers just when they assume they have her stories
figured out. From Amish vampyres, to wild Irishmen, to broken
heroes, and heroines no man can match, Lydia takes readers on an
emotional journey of the heart, mind, and soul with every story she
pens. Her books are intellectual, erotic, haunting, and always
centered on love.

Lydia Michaels loves to here from readers!
She can be found of Facebook or contacted by email
at 
[email protected]

www.LydiaMichaels.org

www.secretcravingspublishing.com