A/N: This was only supposed to be a one shot, but I had so many comments asking for more that I caved! I'm playing around with maybe adding a part 3, but I haven't decided yet. Thank you so much for the frankly overwhelming feedback! I'm so glad you enjoyed my smutty little story!
Lacey was unwinding. She was sprawled out on the living room sofa, glass of bourbon in one hand and a lit cigarette in the other watching late night music videos on the cable access channel.
It was a typical end to her evening, though the rest of her night had been anything but. She'd spent a little while down at the Rabbit Hole playing pool, but it hadn't kept her interest for long. In truth, she was growing tired of her stale old routine. So instead of staying at the bar, knocking back drinks and looking for a friend for the evening, she'd taken a long walk.
For the most part, Lacey liked her life. There were certain drawbacks to be sure. Still living with her dad was a big one, but at least she didn't have to pay rent. She liked her job, working at Storybrooke's only record store. The pay was shit, but she supplemented her income with the idiots willing to go up against her at the pool table. She liked her friends. Ruby was always up for a good time. Ashley had become a bit of a wet blanket lately, but she still had her moments. All said it was a good life.
So why was she suddenly dissatisfied?
It probably all came down to Belle. Despite being as different as night and day, the twins had always been close, and without Belle, she was starting to feel a little lost.
Lacey was technically three minutes older, a fact she never allowed to escape Belle's notice, but Belle had always taken the role of responsible big sister. She was the one to clean up Lacey's messes, the shoulder to cry on when everything went to shit, the one to remind her to do things like floss, eat vegetables and take off her makeup before she went to sleep so it didn't clog her pores. Ever since Belle went away to college, Lacey's life had seemed hopelessly adrift.
To be honest, she envied her fearless yet responsible little sister. Lacey could never imagine being bold enough to leave Storybrooke behind.
She'd been ecstatic when her sister arrived home for the summer, but Belle had been distant so far. She worked long hours at the pawn shop, and when she was home she mostly kept to herself. Lacey was beginning to fear her sister had outgrown her. Belle was always the smart one. Maybe she'd finally tired of her idiot twin always dragging her down.
Lacey pushed that thought from her mind. Belle was her sister, her identical twin, her best friend from the womb. They shared a bond nothing could ever break. Still, it was unusual for Belle to be out this late, and it needled at Lacey's mind that she had no idea what her sister was up to anymore.
As if on cue, the front door of the apartment tentatively pushed open and Belle tiptoed in. The first thing Lacey noticed was that Belle had apparently raided her closet for the evening. She was pretty sure that was her shirt.
"Why are you dressed like me?" she called from her perch on the sofa. "Were we doing a switcheroo thing tonight?"
Her sister jumped, turning around with wide eyes. Her makeup was smudged, mascara streaks down her face as if she'd been crying.
"Shit, Bells, you've got sex hair. What've you been doing?" she asked with a snort.
When Belle's eyes grew even larger, Lacey had to stifle a gasp.
"No way! Baby sister!"
Belle looked lost for a moment, then seemed to crumble onto the couch next to her, kicking off her heels and drawing her knees up against her chest.
"I did something stupid."
"So it would seem," Lacey replied, trying not to sound too excited. She'd been waiting for this moment since they were sixteen and Lacey had lost her virginity to Jim Fredericks. Belle had stayed up all night with her going over every meticulous detail of the five-minute encounter. "Do you want to talk about it?"
Belle shook her head, and Lacey had to squash down her disappointment. Her sister seemed genuinely upset.
She pulled Belle towards her and let her sister rest her head on her shoulder. It was a reversal of their usual roles. If Lacey had a dollar for every time Belle had comforted her in a similar situation, well, she'd have enough money to move out and get her own apartment, that's for sure.
"Mr. Gold," Belle said after a long moment of silence.
"What about him?" Lacey asked, sipping on her bourbon.
"I had sex with Mr. Gold."
Lacey spat her drink across the living room.
"What the fuck?" She yelled, shaking bourbon off her t-shirt. Belle had jumped up to grab paper towels. "You fucked Mr. Gold?"
"Hush!" Belle admonished her in a loud whisper, running back into the living room and cleaning up Lacey's spilled liquor. "Keep your voice down! The last thing I need is dad finding out."
Lacey just waved her off. "He was pretty loaded when he got home. I doubt we could wake him if we tried."
She sat back against the couch raising an appraising eyebrow at her twin. "Wow, Bells. When you do something, you don't do it by halves, do you?"
Belle just shook her head and looked miserable.
"I mean, Mr. Gold. That's some seriously insane shit," Lacey continued. "He always seemed so, I don't know, mean."
"He's never been mean to me," Belle answered glumly.
They sat in silence for a moment, absorbing the night's events.
Lacey couldn't imagine the stoic Mr. Gold doing something as mundane and normal as having sex any more than she could imagine him eating or sleeping. He always seemed like he was above such base urges, merely living off the smell of money and the tortured souls he devoured through his deals. It was actually kind of reassuring that even a man that sinister could be swayed by some cleavage and a pair of stilettos.
Now that she thought about it, she supposed Mr. Gold was kind of sexy in his own way. He always dressed impeccably and he radiated an aura of power that could certainly be intoxicating. Maybe her sister had the right way of it.
"Well?" Lacey prompted, coming back to herself. "How was it?"
The ghost of a smile flitted across her sister's face. "It was amazing. Seriously, Lace, the things that man did with his tongue. I never knew anything could feel like that."
"Seriously?" Lacey could hardly contain her shock. "Who knew Old Goldie had it in him?"
Belle rolled her eyes. "He's not old."
Lacey just shrugged. "So what kind of heat is he packing in those expensive trousers? The way he swaggers around town he's got to have a big cock."
"I am not going to answer that!" her sister said, blushing bright red.
"Oh come on, Belle! I described Jim Frederick's knob in detail after my first time."
"I didn't ask for a description of Jim Frederick's knob, Lace," Belle cried, looking more and more scandalized. "In fact, it made it super awkward to hold a conversation with him afterwards."
They stared at each other for a moment before bursting into laughter. Lacey was glad Belle seemed to be feeling better. This was the closeness she had missed since her twin had returned from school. It was nice to know she could still get her to laugh, even after she'd made the colossal mistake of losing her virginity to her middle aged boss.
"So was this planned? Is that the point of the outfit?" she asked gesturing at Belle's clothes.
Her sister blushed and Lacey suddenly put two and two together.
"Oh my God, you didn't!" she exclaimed. "Does Mr. Gold think he fucked me?"
"No!" Belle quickly replied.
"But that was your plan, wasn't it? What did you think you'd seduce him by pretending to be me?"
Belle sighed. "More or less. It didn't work though. He knew it was me the whole time, though he didn't let me know until I was halfway out the door."
Lacey sat there gaping at her sister for a moment. Then she hauled off and punched her in the shoulder.
"Ouch!" Belle exclaimed.
"What the hell were you thinking?" she asked. "Were you going to let me know after the fact so I could at least be prepared for Gold leering at me in the streets?"
"He doesn't leer," Belle said defensively.
Lacey rolled her eyes. "Why, Belle?" she asked. "It doesn't make any sense."
If it was possible, her sister looked even more miserable.
"Because I like him, okay?" she said after a moment. "I like him a lot, and I wanted him to be my first. I didn't know how to go about getting him, but you always seem to get what you want so I thought I'd try out being you for a night."
Lacey just shook her head. "Belle, I barely know the guy. You see him every day. Of the two of us, I'm sure he'd be more interested in you."
"That's exactly it, though," Belle said with a shrug. "I see him every day. He knows me as this bookish little virgin and there was no way he'd ever want me like that. I thought if I had your confidence maybe I'd have your bravery."
Lacey arched an eyebrow at her. "Honey, I am far from brave. I'm reckless, and I'm pretty stupid but I'm not brave. You've always been the brave one. Besides, you said he knew it was you the whole time. It seems he did want you after all."
That seemed to be the wrong thing to say as Belle threw her head back against the couch and let out an anguished sound.
"What?" Lacey asked.
"I have to go to work on Monday," Belle said. "How am I supposed to face him? Should I just quit?"
Lacey smirked. If there was one thing she knew, it was how to face a man after a one-night stand.
"Belle, he's seen you naked," she said, placing a hand on her sister's arm. "He knows the face you make when you come. This is true."
"Is that supposed to make me feel better?" her twin asked through teary eyes.
"Don't you realize, Bells?" she asked. "You hold all the power. Mr. Gold has seen you naked, and I guarantee it's all he's going to think about from now on when you're in the same room."
"I feel sick," Belle said, moving to stand up. Lacey grabbed her hand before she could leave.
"He's a man. Men are easy. Just own it. He fucked you, and he's going to want to do it again. You hold the power. Because you're the only one who knows if he's ever going to get to do it again."
"I don't want power," Belle said miserably. "I want him."
That's when it hit her. Her sister wasn't upset because she regretted having sex with her boss. She was upset because she was in love with him, and now she'd have to face it.
Belle plopped back down on the sofa next to her.
"As attracted as I am to him, that's not really where my interest lies," she said. "He makes me laugh, Lacey. He's so smart and interesting. He's the most complex person I've ever met. The beauty of my plan was that I'd get to experience just once what it was like to be the woman in his bed, but I could still uphold the status quo of our relationship."
Lacey wrapped her arm around her sister, "I guess that didn't really work out."
"No," Belle agreed. "I'm sorry I tried to steal your identity."
"It's okay," Lacey chuckled. "It honestly sounds like something I'd do. I'm sorry I punched you."
"I deserved it," came Belle's muffled reply as she buried her face in Lacey's shoulder.
"So what are you going to do on Monday?"
Belle sat up, wiping her teary eyes against the back of her hand.
"I have to face him," she said resolutely. "I have to do the brave thing. Hopefully we can just move past this and go back to how things were."
"Is that what you really want?" Lacey asked, scrunching up her nose. From what she could tell, her baby sister was hopelessly in love with the pawnbroker. She couldn't imagine her just burying her feelings for the rest of the summer.
"Not really," Belle admitted. "But what other option do I have? Do you honestly think Mr. Gold wants to date his teenage shop assistant? Even if he did, I have to go back to Boston in a few weeks. This relationship doesn't really have legs."
Lacey stood up and strode into the kitchen without a word. She returned a moment later with the bottle of bourbon and another glass. She poured Belle a healthy measure and the pressed it into her sisters hands.
"I know I'm no expert," she said, blue eyes finding blue. "But if you want my advice I say fuck it. You've got a month left in town? Make it a damn good month."
Belle's eyes widened in shock.
"You honestly think I should pursue this? Even though it's Gold?"
Lacey shrugged. "I think he's an evil bastard, but obviously you see something in him that I don't. I trust your judgment, Bells."
Belle placed her half empty glass on the coffee table before leaning forward to wrap Lacey up in a tight hug.
"I'm sorry I left you behind," she murmured into her hair. "I love you."
Lacey patted Belle's back amazed that her sister knew exactly what had been bothering her without Lacey ever uttering a word.
"I love you too."
After a moment, Lacey pulled back and looked her sister in the eyes.
"Now listen closely, because I'm going to tell you exactly what to do on Monday morning."
It was 9:15 on a Monday morning, and Belle French was nowhere to be seen.
Gold paced around the back of his shop, more agitated than he could ever remember being. He didn't have the faintest idea what had possessed Belle to show up to his shop on Saturday night, smelling like whiskey and painted up like her sister. But it was obvious that she regretted the impulse now.
Belle had always been a model employee, arriving promptly at 8:00 in the morning to sweep up and make him a cup of tea before the shop opened at 9:00. She'd never been so much as five minutes late, yet the shop had been open for going on twenty minutes and she still hadn't shown her pretty face.
He should have expected this of course. No woman in her right mind could ever want him, especially one as young and beautiful as Belle.
He'd spent all day Sunday locked in his house quietly having a mental breakdown. He'd picked up the phone and almost dialed her number a hundred times. He'd even had the bat shit crazy notion to stop by her house, though he couldn't come up with a believable reason for popping by. The rent wasn't due for another two weeks, and God knows he'd never set foot in Moe French's domain for anything else.
Any way he tried to look at it, he'd thoroughly fucked up. He didn't know why he hadn't stopped Belle the moment he realized she wasn't Lacey. Some sick part of him wanted to see how far she'd carry the ruse. Well, he had his answer. Pretty goddamn far.
He'd seen through Belle's disguise quickly. When she first sauntered back into his office, he'd assumed Lacey was drunk and had stumbled in by accident. He'd planned to enjoy the view for a moment - she did look exactly like Belle after all - before sending her on her way. He may have even offered her a ride home if she seemed too bad off.
But there was something ever so slightly off about her. Anyone who had spent less time observing Belle French would never have noticed, but he'd made a habit of observing Belle French. There was a slight tremor to her voice, a spark of uncertainty in her eyes, that didn't quite match up with Lacey's brash demeanor. And despite the slight smell of whiskey on her breath, she most assuredly was not drunk.
Then she'd gone and nearly choked on his scotch and he'd been certain. He was dealing with Belle, not Lacey.
He should have told her then and there, but he hadn't. Then things escalated and he'd been afraid to. So he ended up fucking her in his shop. If nothing else, that would have tipped him off to her true identity. He wasn't so out of practice that he couldn't tell a virgin when he had one. Belle's first time should have been with someone she loved. She should have had candlelight and flowers and some prince charming to sweep her off her feet. Instead he'd given her half a glass of scotch and a fumble in his office.
He was a monster.
Maybe he should have let her just leave without revealing he knew. Then she could have shown up on Monday morning back in her sundress and braid and they could pretend nothing had ever happened. That must have been her plan in the first place, to test the waters with him safely and still have a job at the end of it. He could admire her nerve, though he didn't understand why she'd ever have wanted him in the first place.
If anything, she was probably just looking for a new experience. Belle was nothing if not curious. He could picture innocent little Belle questioning what the big deal was about sex and determining to find out. He just so happened to be the closest and easiest target. At least she had seemed to enjoy herself. He should have just let her go, let her think he'd bought the deception.
But he'd wanted her to know that he knew, that she hadn't pulled one over on him. Bastard that he was, he always had to win. Even when it wasn't in his best interest.
It was a small town. Even if she never showed up for work again, and he wouldn't blame her if she didn't, he was bound to run into her at some point. When that inevitable day came he'd have to say something to her. But what?
In truth he'd wanted her for longer than he cared to think about. From the first week she'd come to work for him, when she all but destroyed that antique tea set and he hadn't felt the least bit angry, he'd known he was in trouble. She was beautiful, but that was just the tip of the iceberg. There was so much more to her than that. She was sweet and kind. She made him feel human for the first time in decades. She laughed at his quips and could return his banter with ease, the only person in town who could manage to keep up with him other than the Mayor. If he allowed himself to think on it, he could imagine spending time with her outside the shop, of taking her to dinner and discussing books over a bottle of wine. Then he'd remember she wasn't even old enough to drink and his pretty fantasy would come crashing down around him.
She was just so young. He told himself that if she were even just a few years older, he would have done it. He would have asked her out on a date, courted her properly out in the daylight, the town's censure be damned. But he knew himself too well to even begin to believe that lie. His heart was a dried up dusty old thing. He'd been through enough hurt in his life to know that it wasn't something anyone wanted.
It would be in both of their best interest if they just acknowledged what had happened for what it was, an indiscretion. One that was best left where it had began, under cover of darkness and haze of alcohol. Then maybe they could go back to how things had been before and he could enjoy her smiles and light from a comfortable distance.
The bell on the front door rang out disrupting his thoughts. The last thing he felt like dealing with right now was a customer, and he almost pitied the person who dared to invade his den of self-loathing this morning. He stalked into the front of the shop prepared to give the tongue lashing of a lifetime, when he came up short.
Belle was standing just inside the doorway, glancing around as though looking for a place she could reasonably hide. Her long chestnut curls hung loose around her shoulders, her shapely pale legs peeking out from under her polka dotted sundress, and every word he'd planned to say to her went flitting right out of his head.
"Hey," he said dumbly.
"Hi," she replied, her beautiful blue eyes sparkling in the morning sunlight that streamed through his shop windows.
They stood there for a moment, the silence dragging out to awkward lengths. Gold was trying to remember how to form words when Belle finally broke the tension.
"Mr. Gold, I –"
"John," he interrupted her without really meaning to. "That's my first name."
Her brow creased adorably, "Really? That's it?"
"Yes," he replied confusedly. "Is there something wrong with it?"
Belle shook her head. "No. It's just so ordinary. The way you guard the knowledge I expected it to be something really embarrassing."
Gold shrugged, hand clenching around the handle of his cane.
"Names have power," he said. "I find that keeping it from people unbalances them. It – insulates me."
"Insulates you from what?" she asked, stepping toward him tentatively.
"Anyone getting too close," he said uncertainly. This definitely wasn't how he imagined this conversation going. He was letting her in too close. Every cell in his body protested it. He was years out of practice of having anyone in his life, yet here he was spilling his secrets to a woman little more than a child.
"But you told me," she said, taking another step toward him. "Why?"
"I don't know. I suppose you earned it."
She stepped back at that, looking up at him as though he'd slapped her. He cursed himself for his choice of words. He hadn't meant it like that. But she was a nineteen-year-old girl who'd only two days ago given up her virginity to him in this very shop. How could she take it any other way?
"I'm not a whore," she said, her words stinging him.
"I don't think you are."
"Lacey isn't either," she continued. "It was unfair of me to do that to her."
"Why did you?" he asked, finally broaching the question that had bugged him for days. "Why did you think you had to be someone else with me?"
Belle's entire body seemed to deflate, like the weight of the world was suddenly on her shoulders. He wanted nothing more than to pull her into his arms, but he needed an answer to his question.
"It seems so stupid now," she started. "There was no one overwhelming reason, just a lot of little things."
"Like?" he prompted her.
Belle leaned back against one of the display cases, keeping her eyes trained on her sandals.
"You're the only person in this town who ever seemed to really get me," she said. "I like you, and I wanted to experience something, do something unexpected for once in my life. In order to do that I had to get out of my own head for a bit."
Gold nodded. It was as he feared. She was acting out, and he just happened to be the lucky bastard who fell into her crosshairs. He knew he had no right to feel disappointment. Belle had given him a remarkable gift, a night he would treasure for the rest of his miserable life. But as much as he'd like to deny it, it stung him to hear her say the words out loud. He was simply a means to an end.
"But that's not all," she continued, and his hopeful heart leapt in his chest. "I didn't want just anyone, I wanted you. But I didn't see how you could ever want me. I thought Lacey might have a better chance."
Relief washed over him like crashing waves. He felt like singing. Belle wanted him. How? Why?
"Nothing against your sister, sweetheart," he said, closing the distance between them until she was only an arms length away. "But she's not the one I want."
Belle looked up at him, her large blue eyes breathtaking in their beauty.
"You want me?"
"How could I not? I knew it was you all along, Belle." Feeling bolder, he reached out and tucked a curl behind her ear. "I'd have sent anyone else, including your sister, on their merry way without a thought. But you were just too much temptation."
Belle shivered under his fingertips, biting her lip deliciously. His mind was flooded with memories from Saturday night and he nearly had to cross his legs or risk embarrassing himself.
"From the moment you set foot in my shop I've desired you, my little Belle. And I've hated myself for it."
"Why?" she asked, her eyes widening in surprise.
"Because I'm no good for you, darling. I can offer you nothing but darkness."
Belle's small hand came up to grab his as he started to pull away and he froze, the skin-to-skin contact overwhelming him for a moment.
"You can't just tell me you're no good for me," she said, raising her chin to look him straight in the eye. "I can make decisions for myself."
And she could, couldn't she? She was a grown woman, fierce and independent and strong. Who was he to tell her what she could handle. If she truly wanted him, and it seemed, against all logic, that she did, who was he to make the decision for them?
"Look, I don't know what this is between us," she continued. "But I'd like to figure it out. Because I care about you, and it seems you care about me too."
That's an understatement if he's ever heard one. He damn near loves her, though he's never allowed himself to think the word. She's utter perfection, beautiful and intelligent with an inner light so bright he thinks it could banish even his darkness if he'd only let it in.
He had no words left, nothing he could say to her to express how he feels without making an utter fool of himself, so he acts instead. Tightening his hold on her hand, he pulled her against his chest, their mouths crashing together. By some miracle she kissed him back, opening her mouth to him, allowing their tongues to tangle and dance. She's even sweeter than she was Saturday night. There's no alcohol on her breath to mask the raw taste of her, more intoxicating than any liquor known to man.
He pulled away a moment later, gasping for breath.
"Lock the door?" she panted.
With a nod, Gold agreed, darting forward as fast as he could to turn the lock and flip the shop sign to closed. Then he grabbed her hand again and pulled her back into his office.
As soon as the curtain fell back into place, separating them from the front of the shop, Belle's lips were on his, her inexperienced fingers going to the buttons of his waistcoat. She released his lips, moving across his jaw to suck on the skin of his neck while her hot little hands pulled his shirt from his trousers, slipping under his clothing to press against his chest.
He wasn't sure when Belle started leading on this little dance, but he wasn't going to complain. It was only when her hand moved down to cup him through his trousers that he came to his senses.
"Sweetheart, wait," he panted, pulling her hand away from his increasingly hard member.
"Did I do something wrong?" she asked, her eyes full of uncertainty. It was so different than the last time they'd found themselves in this position. The first time they had made love, she'd been masquerading as Lacey, a swaggering sort of confidence accompanying her actions. She found freedom in the act. This time her motions were frantic, hurried and somewhat nervous. This was Belle.
"No, of course not, darling," he said, reassuring her. "But, I feel like I owe it to you to make this something special. You deserve so much more than a quick fumble in my shop."
"Who said it had to be quick?" she asked, leaning forward to kiss him again.
Gold groaned and pulled away with difficulty. "I can all but promise you this would be quick and unsatisfying, Belle."
Belle reached up and cupped his face between her hands. A small smile started to spread across her perfect pink lips.
"I can't imagine anything more satisfying than being with you," she whispered. "And I don't care where we are, it's already special because it's you."
He looked into her eyes then, really looked. Not just at the blindingly beautiful color, or the way they always seemed to sparkle even in the dimmest light. He truly gazed into them and saw the emotions there. How open and artless and honest she was in this moment.
And he believed her. Despite the nearly half a century of experience he'd acquired that proved to him no one would ever want him. Despite the father that had abandoned him, the ex-wife he could never please, the son who wanted nothing to do with him, despite every shred of evidence to the contrary, he believed in Belle.
And by God did he love her.
The truth of that thought struck him dumb. He'd given up all hope of ever finding someone to spend his miserable life with, but here was Belle tearing down the walls he'd built around his heart without even trying. Those walls had been weak from the moment she started working for him and Saturday night took a wrecking ball to them. There was nothing left to shield him, he was hers.
And then he kissed her soundly as her hands found their way around his neck and his arms slid around her waist pulling her flush against him. They pulled at each other's clothing frantically, eager to touch and taste and feel. There was no time for finesse, no time to draw it out like he had previously.
A few frenzied moments later his shirt, jacket and waistcoat were on the shop floor along with her sundress. He scooped her up in one swift movement and placed her on his workbench as she pulled at his belt and the button on his trousers. Before he could really register her actions she had pulled him out of his pants, her hand wrapping around his cock causing him to bite back a moan. She stroked him in long slow movements, her thumb coming to brush against the head of him. He was so close to coming he had to shut his eyes and grit his teeth to keep from spilling in her hand.
He tugged at her panties and she quickly shimmied out of them, leaving her bare on his workbench for the second time in three days. He could really get used to the sight.
But his admiration for her body was cut short when he felt her hand on him again, lining him up against her entrance. He pushed into her slowly, the wet heat of her almost overwhelming. He grabbed hold of her hips as he thrust shallowly into her, the angle caused by the workbench almost awkward. But then she leaned forward, wrapping her legs around his waist and pulling her pelvis flush against his. He slid in deeper and they both gasped.
It went quickly after that, his thrusts gaining in momentum as his hands slid up from her hips to cup her breasts. Belle was panting and writhing beneath him, her head thrown back exposing her long neck to him. He bent over her, kissing and licking along the column of her throat, trying to hold back the orgasm that threatened to overwhelm him.
He could feel her getting close, her inner muscles fluttering around him as she started to tense. He moved his mouth from her neck to her breasts, sucking on one nipple before grazing it lightly with his teeth. Then Belle went rigid beneath him, crying out and he was helpless but to come along with her, spilling himself inside her.
He slumped against her, bracing himself on the bench as her arms came up to wrap around his sweaty shoulders. His ankle was screaming in pain, but he'd barely noticed it when he'd been inside Belle.
"Would you like to have dinner with me?" he asked, his face buried against her neck, hiding himself from the very real possibility that she would say no. Wanting him for sex didn't necessarily mean she'd be up for dating him, and his old self-doubt was creeping in even when his cock was still inside the woman he was asking out.
Belle blushed, pulling away to catch his eye. "Like a date?"
The fact his innocent girl could blush at him asking her out after everything they'd just done together only made him love her all the more.
"Yes, sweetheart. I think we've reached that point."
Belle's smile was blinding. "I'd love to," she giggled before adding, "John."
It was the first time she'd said his first name, and it absolutely necessitated kissing her again.
"Thank you, Belle."