She shakes her blonde head, her top teeth biting down on her bottom lip. “No.”
I nod, feeling the riot of emotions inside my chest, until my heart is thudding against my chest. “Will you let me show you something?”
We stare at each other for seconds, me holding my breath the entire time until she nods her head slightly. “Okay.”
Reaching for her hand, I twine my fingers around hers and lead her out of the gazebo toward the house. She follows behind me until we get back to my bedroom. Only then do I let go of her hand before ducking into my closet. On the top shelf, pushed way in the back, is a white box I haven’t looked at in five years. My fingers shake slightly as I reach for it, taking it down, ignoring the inch of dust on the top. Winnie’s brow arches as she eyes the box. I move closer, and she backs up like it might bite her. A smile tugs at my lips.
“Open it,” I say, handing it to her.
Hesitantly, she steps forward, her fingers grazing over the lid. I watch her every movement, every shadow in her eyes, andevery tug on her lips by her teeth. I see when she makes the choice to be brave. With a huff, she slides her hands under the lid and pops it off. The teal blue tissue paper lands on the floor next to the top, and then her fingers touch the smooth, polished, black leather. Property of Dodger is patched on the back, a glaring symbol of who the cut belongs to.
Her eyes jump to mine, confusion written all over her face. “What is this?”
Setting the box on the bed, I reach for the smaller leather cut, holding it out in my hands. “I had it made for you back then. I thought once I found you after you left that I’d explain and give it to you. It's been waiting for you ever since,” I tell her, before flipping the cut to the front and showing her the delicate stitching.
Winnie inhales sharply, her fingers running over the white, cursive writing, and the little flower symbol of her nickname that's wrapped in the last letter. “Daisy.”
“You’ve always been my daisy. You’ve always been mine. I knew it back then; I was just a scared jackass. I can’t tell you enough how sorry I am. I’ve wanted you since we first met. I want you to be mine in the eyes of the club as well,” I rush to tell her, to explain just how much I want to be tied to her for life. “What I said back then was stupid. It was fear and anger at myself. I thought I wasn’t good enough for you or that you deserved better.”
“Finn,” she sobs my name and holds the cut to her chest, crying. “God, Finn. Don’t you get it? You were all I ever wanted. I love you. My dreams were of you and me.”
I feel fucking stupid that I ever let this amazing woman walk out of my life.I love you.Her words feel like small, tiny bullets to the heart. Ones I’d gladly take for her. She belongs to me, and right now she’s holding that property patch like she believes it, too.
My fingers dip into the pocket of the cut, and close around the familiar circular, metal band. My gaze finds hers as I pull it out, and I watch her mouth form a silent o. “I’ve had this tucked away in the pocket for just as long.”
Another tear falls down her cheek, and I reach forward to brush it away. “I’ll do whatever you want with this situation, Win. Know that no matter what, it doesn’t matter what plan we go with, I will protect you with my life.”
“I know,” she answers, nodding her head and wiping under her eyes.
Slowly, I slide to one knee in front of her. Her breath catches, and her hands tighten further into the leather she’s holding. “Will you be mine, Winnie? Whether it's for now or forever is up to you. Just know I’ve always been yours. I want to be yours, to keep dreaming with you, and to keep making all those dreams come true for the rest of my life. Marry me.”
“Yes.” She exhales, gently lowering the cut to the bed. “Okay.”
I get to my feet, my hand reaches for hers, sliding the single, oval-cut diamond, my mother’s ring, onto her ring finger, where it should have always been. Where I’m going to try until my last breath to make sure it stays. There’s no doubt in my mind that Winnie means it, but that she’s also conflicted. I didn’t magically earn her trust back in a night. It will be something I work hard at every day to prove I’ve changed, to show her how important she is to me. I don’t just want her because of the danger knocking at our door; I want her because she makes me the man I want to be.
I thread my fingers in her hair, twisting the braid around my wrist, forcing her head back and her gaze to mine. There's a fire in her eyes that matches the inferno inside me. Slamming my mouth to hers, relief surges through me when her lips part instantly, accepting me. I feast on her, tasting her, and reveling in the fact that she’ll be mine for the rest of my life.
My Daisy.
My wife.
Hooking my arms around her, I lift her effortlessly, and her legs wrap around my waist, her long dress pooling between us. Sitting on the bed, her legs fall to the sides, straddling me. My hands push her cardigan off, and it falls to a heap on the floor. I waste no time, fisting the end of her dress and ripping it off over her head. Winnie’s mouth takes mine urgently, her fingers gripping my hair, the back of my neck, and digging into my shoulders as she tries desperately to get closer. My fingers expertly unclasp her bra, and soon it lies on the floor at my feet as well. With a growl, I flip her over me and onto her back. My body quickly lowers over hers, pinning her to the bed, desperate to keep her here.
Bracing myself on my elbows, I stare down into her absolute perfection. Slowly, I trail my lips across her collarbones, then down the valley between her tits before reaching her nipples. My fingers pluck each tight bud, rolling them between my fingers before closing my lips around each one. I tongue her, sucking gently at first, then harder until her hands delve into my hair.
“Every inch of you tastes so good,” I murmur against her skin. Her chest heaves when I move to the next one, giving it the same attention with my teeth and lips. Her hands trail down my back and sides, fingers ghosting over firm muscle while I continue making my way down, across her abdomen to the curve of her hips. She gasps when I bend and kiss the top of her pussy, her whole body practically vibrating under me.
“Finn.” My name leaves her lips, and it’s the best goddamn thing I’ve heard. I hated her calling me by my road name. At first, I understood why she was doing it, putting distance between us. Then, the more time we were together and the more of our history we rehashed, I couldn’t take it. I wanted to be her Finn again. Just hers.
I back up, hovering over her pussy. Our eyes lock. “Say my name again, Daisy. I want you to scream who it is that's making you feel good.”
Her lips part, and she swipes her tongue across the bottom one. “You. You’re making me feel good, Finn.”
Something primal surges in my chest, and my tongue darts out to lick a slow line up her slit before circling her clit. Her back arches, a sharp gasp tearing from her lips. “Always so responsive for me, Win. Such a good girl.”
Flattening my tongue, I drag it down her entrance again, this time dipping inside just enough to make her cry out. Her hips jolt off the bed, and my hands automatically grip them tighter, pinning her in place. She calls my name again, her small hand tightening in my hair. The sharp sensation sends shivers over my skin, leaving fire in its wake. Groaning, I continue to lick, suck, and kiss every inch of her delicious pussy. Her body arches, grinding against my face while I work over her clit, sucking it lightly. She’s wound tight, her body flushed, while her hands squeeze her tits in time with every thrust of my tongue inside her tight hole.
“Please, Finn, please,” she begs, the sound so perfect to my ears.
