“Don’t forget that she’s my sister and I can kick your ass.” His eyes cut to the front of the SUV to look out the front window.
I stare at his profile for a few seconds. “I asked her to marry me. She said yes.”
His head swivels so fast I’m surprised it didn’t spin off. He stares at me. “You’re fucking serious.”
“Yeah, I’m fucking serious. I’ve worked my ass off to win her over, I’m not waiting any longer to make it official.”
His head is nodding, and his eyes are looking somewhere over my shoulder. “And she said yes.” It’s not a question, more like a mumbled revelation.
My eyebrows come together. “Don’t sound so surprised.”
“Why not? You used to be the man whore of every county.”
“Well, pot meet fucking kettle.”
He huffs a breath and looks out the window. “At least tellme I don’t have to worry about you ever hurting her.”
“Hey, Mason?” He turns his head to look at me, and I throw a right jab at his jaw.
“Fucker.” He throws a left jab at my nose. Fuck! I forget he hits as well with his left as he does with his right.
He rubs his jaw, and I wipe the blood from my nose as we stare at each other.
“Did you at least get her a ring?” he barks, his eyebrows pulled together.
“Of fucking course I got her a ring, I bought it months ago. It’s at my apartment, I have to go get it when we get back.”
The tension in the cab is stifling as we sit in silence, looking out our windows, rubbing our wounds that hurt our egos more than our flesh.
“Just humor me and tell me you won’t hurt her.” He says, his jaw still cupped in his hand.
My nose is swelling, so I sound nasally. “I shouldn’t have to tell you, but to humor you, I will tell you she will always have more love and protection than she needs.”
Without looking in my direction, he holds his hand out for me to take, which I do without looking at him.
“Congratulations, brother. I’m happy for you.”
“Thank you.”
A few more miles slip by before he turns to me and says, “I guess we’re really going to be brothers now.”
I turn to him and nod. “Yep.”
We smile at each other and go back to looking out our windows.
The next week or two is going to suck.
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
MARLEY
THE FIRSTcouple of nights weren’t so bad, but tonight I’m really starting to feel his absence. He hasn’t sent a text either, I know he would if he could.
Sloane told me she hasn’t even heard from Mason, who, over the past few months, started checking in every day as their pregnancy progresses, even during shorter jobs.
Even though it’s getting up to one hundred degrees outside, I’m in bed wearing a pair of gray sweats, that bag off me, and a camo green t-shirt that looks like a dress. His smell is all around me, but I want to feel his heat and be wrapped up in him.
I’ve never felt so adrift or clingy in my life. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Even though I cried in the shower, hoping the water would wash away the redness in my eyes, I’m fighting back tears as I lay here staring at the outside lights shining on my blinds.
