Nash was lounging on the couch with his leg propped up on the coffee table, and he made grabby hands at me as I started to sit.
It was far too easy to slip into his arms and nestle against his side. He was still tender from the accident, but his bruising was no longer a sunset. Now it was mottled, fading green across his chest, punctuated by the chest tube scar from where they’d had to inflate his lung.
“How are you?”
I frowned up at him. “Is that rhetorical, literal, or?—”
He snorted and brushed his fingers through my hair. “Just checking in, sweetheart.”
I tried not to shiver, but fuck, I loved when he called me that. “I’m okay. I think it’s a good day so far.” I always added so far.It allowed me to set my expectations and not feel too gutted if things took a turn.
He nodded, biting his lip. He clearly had something to say, but I wasn’t sure what. It was easy to be patient with him. I’d started learning that the one thing he needed more than anything was for people to wait. To let him work out what he wanted to say.
“I love you.”
I knew he did, but he hadn’t said the words since that afternoon at the hospital, and a tiny piece of me was starting to wonder if he regretted saying them. My whole body softened. “I love you too.”
“Yeah?”
I nodded. “I know we haven’t talked much?—”
“I didn’t want to upset you or make your stress flare worse.” He took my hand and lifted it to his lips, kissing my palm. “I know your brain fog and seizures were bad there for a while, and I didn’t want to make it bad again.”
I couldn’t bring myself to tell him that talking about it all would have made it better. He was trying his hardest. “I’m happy to talk now if you want.”
The breath he let out trembled on the exhale as he shifted himself to the side as far as his leg would allow, and he looked down at me. “We’re married.”
“Yes…”
“But do you want to be?”
I blinked. “Do you?”
He snorted and ran his thumb over the cut of my jaw. “Forest, please don’t deflect. I need to know.”
Bowing my head, I took a fortifying breath, then nodded. “Yeah. But I’m okay if you don’t. I mean, we skipped so many steps, and I know that’s probably making it harder, but?—”
“I want to be married to you. I want to skip the steps. The moment I saw you,” he said, his tone fierce, “you felt like home. I had no idea what to do with those feelings, and I tried to run from them, but I couldn’t. And then I saw an opportunity, and I feel like such a selfish fucking bastard for taking it. Even if marrying you meant helping you, it was entirely self-serving.”
I burst into laughter, unable to help it. Leaning forward, I set my tea on the table, then swung my leg over him, straddling his hips. I didn’t let him take too much weight, but I did lean forward and kiss him, slow, deep, and thorough.
He groaned, and I caught the sound on my tongue, swallowing it down.
“This is a good answer,” he said when I pulled back.
“I love what we have. I don’t care that none of it is traditional. I don’t want to separate. I don’t want to do it like everyone else does.I like it our way.”
“Our way,” he repeated.His hands closed around my hips, and I could feel him growing hard under me. We hadn’t fooled around since before his injury, but my cock was definitely interested now. I thrust my hips against his, letting him feel it. “Oh?You sure?” he asked.
“Only if you’re up for it.”
His heated gaze met mine. “We’ll have to go slow and careful, but I want this. I want you. I’ve been dreaming about it.”
My throat felt thick with want. “I love you, Nash. I’ve been in love with you for a while, and I know I already told you that, but I need you to hear it when we’re not riding an adrenaline high from the hospital.”
His eyes darkened and he pulled me close, kissing me again. “I might need to hear that a few more times, just to drive it home.”
Rocking my hips against him again, I nodded and kissed him deeper. “As many times as you need. As many times as you want.”
