“If time is going to whisk us away, then let’s get whisked away in it together.” Vincent held the box between himself and Mal, neither pushing for a response, nor prohibiting one. “Let’s watch the years go by in wonder, marvel at how long it’s been, when it feels like it hasn’t been any time at all… but let’s not let it steal these moments from us. These moments of happiness. This joy. All these years still to come, these fleeting years… I want to share them with you.”
Mal looked from the ring to Vincent, teary-eyed disbelief glossing his eyes. “You mean it?”
“Yes.” Vincent cracked a smile, his heart pounding in his ears and his cheeks flushed with heat. “No more pumpkins at midnight. If you ride, we ride together.”
Mal laughed. He blinked the tears from his eyes, and as he did, Vincent freed the ring from its velveted slot and presented it to Mal.
“I said I was sorry,” Mal said. He wiped the corner of his eye and laughed again. “I think at this pointIam the pumpkin. You’ll have to worry about me rolling away.”
“All the more reason to tie you down.” Vincent grinned. On the inside, his nerves ran so deep that his bones trembled. “If you need more time to think about it—”
“No, I don’t need more time.” The answer was certain—more certain than Mal had ever been before. It was the same kind of confidence that Vincent had instilled in him in the bedroom, and while Mal would always be a tender soul, Vincent heard the strength of his conviction in his words. His response wasn’t meant to placate. Mal spoke from his soul. “My answer is yes. It would have been yes last week, and last month, and it would have been yes two weeks or two years from now, so I’ll say yes now, while we still have this moment. I love you, Vincent. No matter how much time passes us by, that won’t change.”
Vincent’s trembling bones stilled. The nerves he’d struggled to keep in check relented, and in their place, joy swept through him like fire rushing across gasoline. It crackled and flickered inside him, uncontrollable, its smoke hazing his mind and choking out secondary worries. The last six years may have slipped by him, but the present he shared with Mal was vibrant and distinct. Its effect on his bones, his muscles, and his mind would linger with him long after it was over.
Mal had said yes.
How different three letters could sound when there was love invested in them.
Mal held out his hand, and Vincent took it, held it in his, and slipped the ring onto Mal’s finger. It suited his skin tone, and its shine complemented the radiance in his soul. In wonder, Vincent lifted Mal’s fingers to his lips and placed a kiss next to the band. His heart soared.
There was no feeling that came close to this—no comparison that he could draw that would ever encompass the breadth of his love for the man who sat beside him, or how it felt to see him wear his ring.
Wonder. Humility. Joy.
With a simple “yes,” Mal had chosen him, and in turn, Vincent would choose him every day without question for the rest of his life.
He laid Mal’s hand on his thigh, but didn’t let it go.
“You won’t be mad when I get too swollen to wear it?” Mal asked. “I’m already almost there. A few more weeks and you’ll have to push me out of bed every morning.”
“I’m going to go out on a limb and say, no, I won’t mind.” Vincent arched a brow. “But if you think I’ll be pushing you out of bed, you’re crazy. With twins, at your age, I’d much prefer you spend the last trimester in bed rest… as would Dr. Gupta, I’m sure.”
“I couldn’t.”
“I don’t know.” It was difficult to maintain a casual conversation when every part of Vincent was flooded with adrenaline. His heart beat in forceful thumps, and he simultaneously wanted to sit back and catch his breath and pull Mal to him and never let him go. “Nikki loves being helpful, and she loves you almost more than anyone else. If you wanted, you could stage these last three months strategically.”
“Do you remember the time she tried to be helpful by washing the dishes?” Mal asked. “And we only found out the next day, after our dinner tasted like dish soap?”
“You may have a point.” Vincent couldn’t resist anymore. With a charmed grin, he leaned forward and tilted his head to the side, closing the distance between himself and Mal. He didn’t seal the kiss—not yet—but used their proximity to whisper his words against Mal’s lips. “I guess that means you’ll have to tell me what to do, Daddy. Boss me around.” His hand traced delicately over Mal’s distended stomach. Vincent knew the way Mal liked to be touched, and he used that knowledge to make his point. “You’ve given me everything I wanted… now isn’t it time for me to repay the favor? Let me take care of you. Let me make you feel special.”
“Baby…” Mal’s voice had taken on the lusty, breathy edge it did whenever they slipped into a play state. “You don’t have to.”
“But I want to, Daddy.” Vincent continued to stroke, eyes closing slowly as the seduction continued. “I want to take care of you. Please, can I?”
Mal’s hands closed behind Vincent’s head. He brought their lips closer together, each syllable another unofficial kiss. “Anything for you, baby.”
“I love you so goddamn much,” Vincent whispered in return. The rhythm of his heart hadn’t normalized, but its firm, throbbing beats were no longer erratic. “I’m going to make you the happiest you’ve ever been… you, and the babies. I swear it.”
“You already have,” Mal said with a smile.
There were no more words. They kissed the moment away.
44
Mal
In the privacy of their bedroom, Vincent dropped to his knees. Mal, nude, watched through partially lidded eyes, his heart aflutter, as Vincent ran a hand over his baby bump and pressed a lasting kiss to his taut skin. The tip of Vincent’s nose dipped against Mal’s side, his touch light. The contact sent pinpricks up Mal’s side, like the bubbles escaping sparkling water.
