He nodded subtly, the action causing the tip of his nose to brush against mine and forcing me to draw in a shaky breath. “Ditto,” he muttered, tossing my earlier word back at me. But when he continued, a whisper of worry edged his words. “Does it bother you that the guys know?”
“No,” I answered honestly. “But, again, it feels like they know something that isn’t real.”
“Right,” he said, as if in agreement. “And if we made it real?”
One of my brows ticked up. “Is...wait, are we—” I pushed up onto my elbow and stared down at Gray’s handsome features, my exhaustion momentarily forgotten. “Are we not actually married?”
“We are.” The flash of his dimples let me know I hadn’t been able to conceal my worry. “But I didn’t get to give you a ring.”
My eyes widened when I realized what he’d originally been implying. “I have a ring,” I said on a breath as my heart raced.
One side of his face scrunched up. “Yeah, I didn’t pick that out, Peach. And I didn’t ask your dad, even though he really is the worst.”
“Please don’t,” I softly begged.
I hadn’t had a relationship with my dad since I’d become a SEAL. Even if his words were a constant, toxic torment that, regrettably, fueled my insecurities and decisions, he wasn’t allowed to have any kind of say on my life.
“I didn’t get down on one knee,” Gray continued without acknowledging my plea.
“I probably would’ve punched you if you had.”
A sharp laugh burst from him, his head bobbing as he fought a smile. “Noted.” Finally loosing that smile—mysmile—on me, he lowered his voice and said, “But I don’t remember asking you. I don’t remember you sayingyes. And, more than anything, I don’t remember getting to marry you.”
“Oh.” It was all I seemed to be able to force out as his words at once thrilled me and made my heart wrench.
Because what he was saying, what he wanted, wasn’t me. It never had been.
I hadn’t been the little girl who’d grown up dreaming about her wedding or who she might marry. I’d been the little girl who’d dreamed of fighting for my country. I’d dreamed of showing my dad and brothers that I was strong enough.I’d dreamed of shutting up every person who’d told me I couldn’t...that Iwasn’t.
And I had.
Honestly, thinking about it now, a drunken elopement was kind of perfect for me. But knowing Gray? He would’ve wanted the big wedding, with our crew and his massive family in attendance. He would’ve wanted the white dress and suit and cake.
He would’ve wantedeverything.
My stomach dropped when I realized that wasn’t the only thing Gray and I differed on.
“What’s going on in that head of yours?” Gray softly pleaded, forcing my attention to his furrowed brow and analyzing stare.
I struggled to swallow around the cold fingers curling around my throat, because I had a feeling I knew exactly how this conversation was about to go. “What if I don’t want awedding? What if I’ve never wanted the dress or the people, or any of that?”
Gray seemed to search my features, as if he knew that wasn’t what had my words dipping and twisting, before he easily but carefully said, “Then we won’t. But I’m still getting you a different ring, and I’m still asking you, sober.”
A hollow formed in my chest when his answer was exactly as I’d expected.
And it had me struggling to breathe because I’d only had a short few hours where he’d felt like mine. But I couldn’t do this to him.
He shifted to sitting when I did, apprehension swirling from him and curling around me when he mumbled, “Mallory...”
“You want kids, don’t you?”
Longing stole across Gray’s expression before he could mask it. “You know I do,” he responded in a tone that let me know his mind was racing, putting together the pieces of this conversationso he could figure out where I was going with it. “Just as I know you hate kids.”
I worried my bottom lip before asking, “How does that work?”
I didn’t have to sayfor us. From the way his eyes narrowed just slightly, he knew what I was asking. He’d put all those pieces together.
“Easily. We won’t have kids.”
