I debated on that part. It was a last-minute addition, but it felt important to me to make sure I incorporated that he’s a father. He’s let me into his heart, into his son’s heart, and that’s a rare gift. One that I will never take for granted.
“Sloane, babe, you good in there?” he asks through the door.
“One second,” I call back. One last look in the mirror, and I turn off the light and step out of the bathroom. The bedside lamp is on, just as I was hoping it would be. I don’t make eye contact as I walk to my side of the bed and pull back the covers.
“Oh, no, you don’t, gorgeous. What are you wearing?” he asks. His eyes roam over my body as his long legs carry him to my side of the bed.
Turning, I smile up at him. I open my mouth to speak, but he shakes his head while placing his index finger over my lips. “Shhh,” he whispers. “Let me enjoy this.”
I laugh but keep my mouth shut. His eyes start at my breasts and take their time cataloging what he’s seeing. “Turn around,” he says, his voice gruff with need.
Doing as he says, I turn and show him the back.
“Fuck me, Sloane. Do you have any idea what it does to me seeing my name all over you like this?”
“You remember Jersey Gate, right?” I tease.
“That was child’s play compared to this. My name and number, these sexy scraps of silk say that you’re mine.”
“This does, too.” I turn back to face him and hold my left hand up in the air, and wiggle my fingers.
His eyes soften. “When?”
“When what?”
“When are we changing your last name?”
I shrug. “I want our parents to be there, and our friends, and of course, our little guy. Outside of that, I don’t care when. I think something small and intimate.”
“Where?” he asks, his voice raspy.
“I used to think I’d want to get married in a church, but I kinda want to do it here.”
“Here?”
I nod. “Yeah, this house is our home. It’s where I fell in love with you. It’s where Cam made me his momma and where you asked me to be yours forever. Something small and intimate—just us and those closest to us.”
“When?” he asks again.
I think for a few minutes, trying to go through his schedule and mine, and blurt an answer before I can really think it through. “New Year’s Day.”
“Really?” he asks, his eyes lighting up. “Wait. As in a week away, or a year and a week away?”
“Yes. Let’s start next year off as husband and wife. We love each other, so why wait?”
“You sure? What about a dress? Flowers? Cake, all the things? I want this to be the day you’ve always dreamed of, Sloane. This is the only wedding you’ll ever have.”
“What? No vow renewals?”
“Baby, I plan on telling you and showing you every day of forever what you mean to me. Every day moving forward will be our vow renewal.”
I don’t hide my grin. This man, he really does have a way with words. “I can find a dress and flowers. That’s easy. I just need a bouquet and a cake. Hell, we can have Cam’s famous sugar cookies for all I care,” I tell him honestly.
“I love all of that, but I don’t want to rush this. I need this day to be special for you. I want you to have the dress shopping day with our moms and the girls. I want you to have the moments of planning, and I’ll be there every step of the way, but I can tell you I have no opinion. The only details that matter are who’s there. Our friends, our parents, our son, and you walking toward me in a white dress.”
“I’ll concede to all of that,” I tell him. “How about sometime toward the end of February or sometime in March? If we do March, that’s three months.”
“First week of March. Here, with those closest to us.”
Standing on my tiptoes, I wrap my arms around his neck and kiss just under his jaw. “Three months until I’m Mrs. Baker Sinclair.”
Grabbing one of my hands, he pulls it from around his neck and places it over his heart. “In here, you’re already Mrs. Sinclair.”
“All right.” I chuckle. “You’re bringing all the game tonight, number thirty-two,” I tease.
“Baby, you know I always follow the play.”
