I search his face, looking for any sign that he’s not being completely honest with me, but I find nothing. He seems genuine. He’s telling the truth about what he wants, and I’m not being fair to either of us by continuing to lie about what I want.
“I don’t want you to regret anything about this,” I say quietly, voicing my vulnerabilities instead of trying to pretend they don’t exist.
He releases me, turning away as he desperately runs his hands through his hair. “I don’t know how else to say it to make you believe.”
I want to walk away, avoid where this conversation is about to lead, but I don’t, and a second later he doesn’t let me. Suddenly, he’s rushing toward me and caging me against the wall. One hand above my head, the other on my hip, he’s holding me down, not letting me escape, and with his cock pressing against me and showing me exactly how he’s planning on making me believe he’s being honest.
“You are it for me, Monroe,” he whispers against my lips. “Sure, this baby has forced me to open my eyes and figure out what I want, but after our night together, I never stoppedthinking of you. I would have gone for this regardless of your getting pregnant.”
I suck in a sharp breath, but he doesn’t stop. His warm mouth meets the sensitive skin of my neck as he licks and sucks, placing hasty kisses against me. I arch my back, tilting my head to give him better access. “All I think about is you,” he murmurs in between kisses. “All I want is you. The most stubborn, guarded, and kindest woman I've ever met. You drive me crazy, Monroe Bishop. I never meant to make you feel like you’re second to anyone.”
The sincerity in his voice cuts through some of the anger simmering within me. Something's changed since last night. We both went places we hadn't been to in so long, somewhere I’d promised myself I wouldn’t, but now that I have, I can’t go back to how things were before. Maybe it took Indigo threatening everything I’ve ever dreamt of for me to realize it.
I want Jameson King. Not only to raise our baby together but to be with him.
I wrap my hands around his neck, bringing him down closer to me. “If we do this, Jase,” I pause, my heart racing in my chest like never before. “If we do this, we do it together. We don’t let anyone come between us, ever. Not my brothers, not this town, not your parents, who want nothing more than for us to fail.”
My eyes are fixed on his, and the emotion they show makes my knees weak. The blue is brighter than I’ve ever seen, glossy and full of such raw emotion. My lips quiver as his voice nearly breaks. “Are you saying what I think you are?”
I nod. “I only panicked because I realized you were right. This isn’t fake, it never was. It was unfair of me to push you away, but I won’t anymore. I’m not making any promises. Jase, I am so scared I’m going to fuck this up, but I’m done letting fear keep me from doing what I want.”
His lips curve up into a sexy smirk. The smug bastard is going to make me say it. “And what is it you want?”
I nudge him with my shoulder, dropping my hands from around his neck, but he grips my wrists and holds them in place. I swallow back the lump in my throat, unable to look away from him and the intense gaze he’s giving me.
“I want us to try. We’ll take it slow, see where this goes. This baby is our priority, but I want us to try to make it work.”
The excitement in his grin makes my heart nearly stop. This man has been so patient with me. He practically rearranged his entire life to make room for me and our baby, and all I’ve done is make things complicated every step of the way.
He trails his fingers over my cheek, wiping away a stray tear I hadn’t even realized I'd let out. “I promise you I won’t pressure you into anything. As much as I want a replay of that night, and take you upstairs right now and make you beg?—”
I let out a soft giggle. “Remember, my sweet Jase. I don't beg. I told you once before. I’d never beg you for anything.”
“Oh, you will, baby. You will when I have you screaming on your knees, begging me to make you come with my cock. I want to be inside of you so badly, Moonshine, but I won’t until you’re begging for it too.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Monroe
String lights hang across the ceiling, twinkling like stars in the night sky while a massive countdown clock glows behind the bar. The silver hands tick away the minutes until midnight.
In one corner of the room, a photo wall shimmers with silver, gold and midnight blue streamers, cascading like a curtain, framed by balloons shaped like stars. In the other, there’s a giant stage set up with bright lights arranged like shooting stars.
My brother stands at the front of the stage, guitar in hand, as he belts out one of his most popular singles,Midnight Blues.
It’s perfect and oddly fitting. Bailey has outdone herself with the spin on Cinderella and her midnight escapades. Velvet drapes, candlelit tables, even little glass slipper charms at each place setting along the tables create the perfect ambiance.
Along the bar top, there’s a sign with the signature drinks playing into the theme too. Everything fromGlass Slipper Martinis,Clock’s A Tickin’ Old Fashioned, andMidnight Sparkling ciderfor the non-drinkers. It's classy, nostalgic and everything we hoped for.
I linger near the entrance, watching the room fill with locals, friends and strangers who’d only heard about the “Meet Me at Midnight” bash on Theo’s socials and didn’t want to miss the intimate event with America’s Heartthrob. Yet, despite the chaos of fangirls in awe at the man on stage, for the first time in months, I feel like life is the closest to normal it’s going to get.
“I can’t believe my little sister has done it again,” Jase says as he wraps his arms around my waist from behind. He whispers in my ear. “Have I told you that you look fucking breathtaking tonight, Moonshine?”
I laugh, feeling the warmth of his breath through my entire body like a zap of electricity flowing through me. “Only every hour since we left the house this afternoon,” I joke, but I’m too wired up to feel anything but his body pressed against mine.
Turning in his arms, I adjust the cuff of his dark blue dress shirt, a smile tugging at his lips. His sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, making him look like the ultimate sexy businessman more than the bartender who’s been serving up drinks all night. He looks so fucking good, and the way his eyes linger on me in the sequin, strapless minidress I chose for tonight, in the same shade of midnight blue as his shirt, makes my heart flutter.
“You don’t look half bad yourself, baby.” He lets out a guttural groan, and it’s then I realize I’ve never called him anything but Jase or Jameson when I’m upset at him or when I was trying to keep lines from blurring.
