“I love you, too, wife,” he said. “And in case it wasn’t clear, I don’t want this marriage to be fake. I don’t think I ever did. I want to tell off fuckers who can’t take no for an answer and carry your bags when we run errands and have cuddle parties with you when your period makes your life miserable. I want to go to bonfires with my family and beat you at charades.”
“Watch it,” I said, though my voice lacked any heat.
“So, is it cool with you if it’s a little longer before we get this first divorce out of the way?”
“What do you mean by a little longer?”
He shrugged, then reached down to grab his jeans from the floor, pulling a small box from his pocket. Lifting the lid, he pulled out a black ring from inside and held it up between us.
I recognized it immediately as the one I’d purchased for him. The one that had the same inscription on the inside that mine did.
“I was thinking forever,” he said. “How does that sound?”
“That sounds like a long time…”
“You think so? It doesn’t sound like nearly long enough to me. But I want you to think long and hard before you agree to this.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because when you do?” He slid off his silicone ring and set it on his nightstand before slipping the metal band into place. “There’s no take backs.”
A smile spread across my face as Ford gripped my nape and tugged my mouth to his. The kiss was slow and sweet, both of us saying without words exactly what we needed to. That we were in this, together. Forever.
No take backs.
EPILOGUE
FORD
I didn’t knowif it was a blessing or a curse that our first little league play-off of the fall season was against my wife’s newly sponsored team. No matter where Quinn and I stood—whether it was a good day or a challenging one—one thing that never changed between us was that competitive streak we’d had since we were kids. Us being officially—not fake…and definitely not temporarily—married didn’t change that.
“When we beat you today, are you going to take it like a big girl, or are you going to give me the silent treatment like you always do?” I asked, brushing my lips up the column of Quinn’s neck, barely restraining myself from pinning her against this wall and fucking her, to hell with the onlookers. We weretechnicallyout of sight. And, really, how many people came to buy concessions during a little league game? We could probably get away with—
“Whenwebeatyou, are you going to take it like a big girl or pout like you usually do?” she shot back, eyes narrowed.
“Kitten. While I’ve definitely got the big part down, I think we both know there’s nothing girlish about me.” I gripped her hip, digging my fingers into her soft flesh as I pressed my dick against her.
I’d known I wouldn’t stand a chance of making it through this game without getting a hit of my wife first. Not when I hadn’t seen her since she’d left for work that morning, leaving me blissed out in our bed. So, as soon as she had strutted from her car across the field toward her team’s dugout, that fucking sundress swinging in the breeze as she went, I’d told Aiden I’d be back. Then I’d intercepted my wife, tugged her behind the field house and kissed her within an inch of her life.
I could admit it hadn’t been my smartest move since I was now sporting a huge fucking erection, and we were surrounded by—if out of sight from—a bunch of kids. But I didn’t make too many smart moves where Quinn was concerned. She reduced me to a puddle of nonsense and need on a daily basis, and today was no different.
“Quit rubbing your dick all over me,” she murmured against my mouth, but her words lacked heat, and she held me to her with two fistfuls of my shirt, like she was just as needy for me as I was for her.
And I was here for it. Here for those public declarations…and the private ones, too. There was no more pretending between us. No more concealing our true feelings or hiding behind a history we couldn’t change but one we’d both grown grateful for. How we loved each other was on display every day, in private or not, arguing or not, competing or not…without fail. Loving each other through the ups and downs…Stayingand working through them was new to us both, but we were learning. Together.
While it was pretty fucking obvious how I felt about Quinn, we’d come clean to my family and told them there was no longer anything fake about our marriage. That we were in it for the long haul. My brothers all nodded their congrats, but that little dictator Addison had only grinned smugly, as if she’d had a hand in Quinn’s and my fake-turned-real love all along.
I stared down at my wife, a heavy gratefulness washing over me not for the first time. This gorgeous, smart-as-hell, hot-as-fuck woman wasmine. For the rest of our lives.
“If you don’t want me to rub my dick on you, wife, then quit wearing these goddamn dresses.” I pinched the hem of it between my fingers, desperate to tug it right off her. To flip up the skirt and get an eyeful of those panties I’d seen her slipping into this morning. To sink inside all that perfection between her thick thighs and fuck her until neither of us could breathe. “All I have to do is see one laid out on the bed, and I’m fucking hard.”
She hummed low in her throat, leaning into me for the briefest moment, before straightening and pushing away. Narrowing her eyes, she pointed a finger at me. “I know what you’re doing, husband. And it’s not going to work.”
First of all, her calling me husband was doing fuck all for the beast in my pants, desperate to be inside her. And second, I was certain she didn’t have any idea, because what I was doing was trying to stop myself from saying fuck it and dragging her into the bathroom to have my way with her, play-off game be damned. Aiden could figure that shit out on his own. Brady was in the dugout to help. Those two bossy assholes would be fine.
“What am I doing?” I asked, voice rough.
“You’re trying to distract me so you can win.” She braced her hand on my chest as she stood on her tiptoes, her lips brushing mine with every word, her eyes sparking with challenge. “But it’s not gonna happen.”
