“Why is it still on the wall?” I know she doesn’t have any feelings for her ex. Know she isn’t pining for the man—or the marriage—but why has she not taken down the picture of them on their wedding day?
“I, um.” She shrugs one bare shoulder—the thin strap of her dress, the only covering on her bronzed skin, slips off and I have to avert my gaze so I don’t get distracted. “I had the place decorated just after we were married and the decorator put it up. I don’t even notice it.”
I turn back to the picture and study the woman in the elaborate puffy white dress. “It doesn’t suit you.”
“What?”
“The dress.” I wave at the image in front of me. “It’s not you.”
Her warmth and scent swirl around me a second before she stops at my side. “Yeah, well, a lot about that day wasn’t me.”
“What do you mean?” Doesn’t every bride plan and execute the wedding of their dreams?
“Mother and Father paid, so things were done the way they wanted.” She nods at the picture. “Including the dress.”
I don’t understand this Olivia—the one who lets others dictate what she does. “And you didn’t think to argue? It was your wedding.”
She laughs. “And what a waste it was.” Turning toward me, she adds, “I’m glad it wasn’t my dream wedding because Colin certainly turned out to be anything but my dream man.”
“And what’s your dream man?”
Her head tilts to the side, her eyes narrowing on me. “Are you trying to get the inside scoop?”
I just smile at her and cross my arms. I know she’s deflecting and while I want to give this woman everything, I’m not going to make it easy on her by backing away from the hard questions. Instead of speaking, I let one arched brow do the talking.
She holds up her hands in surrender, a smile curling her red lips. “Okay, serious question. Mmm…my dream man… Well, he’d want a lot of what I want. The usual things, house, kids, dog. And he’d want me—love me—with everything he has. I’m not settling for second best ever again.”
“You deserve that and more, Princess. And I’m just the man to help you get it.” Turning, I reach up and take the picture off the wall.
“What are you doing?”
“Helping you get what you want.”
“What?” Her brow furrows in confusion. “How?”
“By removing reminders of a past you never should have endured.” I lean the frame against the wall at our feet then turn toward her and grab both her hands. “You might think this is quick and really, it is, but then it isn’t either. We’ve known each other for over two years now. You’ve told me things I don’t think you’ve told anyone else. We’ve done things I know you’ve never done with anyone else.”
Her fingers tremble in mine, so I hold them a little tighter.
“Olivia May Wexworth, I want to marry you. I want to help you buy that house, and make those kids, and choose the dog. I want to love you with all I have and more.”
Her mouth drops open, flaps a few times before she snaps it shut again.
I grin. “I want those things, and I’m going to want those same things from now until the day I die. With you. Starting now.”
“Oh my God, are you insane?” she breathes out in a rush.
“Yes. Insanely in love with you.”
“But…”
“What?”
“It was meant to be just hot, sweaty sex?—”
“Oh, there will still be plenty of that.” I grin and waggle my eyebrows.
“Carter.”
