Something that should’ve been a relief to me had that hollow expanding, threatening to consume me as I thought about the way Gray had run around with his cousins’ kids the day before, and all the times he’d come back to Dallas, covered in glitter and nail polish, courtesy of his nieces.
He was great with kids. Headoredkids.
I wouldn’t ask him to give that dream up.
“Gray—”
His hushed laugh cut me off as he leaned closer, his voice low and earnest. “I would give my life for you, Mallory. This? It’s nothing in comparison.”
“You can’t say that.”
One of those smiles flashed across his face that showed exactly how ready he was to disprove that. But before he could argue, I continued.
“You’ll resent me one day.”
“Not likely,” he said on an amused breath. “I’ve known what a life with you would look like. That’s never stopped me from knowing I would choose you again and again if you so much as gave me a chance.”
I ignored the way my entire being reacted to the claim and focused instead on that pit of unease. “What if Briggs is right? What if we don’t last?”
“What if wedo?” he challenged in a tone that said he would fight to ensure we did.
“Then you won’t get the life you deserve.”
Gray’s head slanted in disagreement. “I’ll get everything.”
My chest caved with my next exhale because he couldn’t say that. He couldn’tknowthat. But just as my lips parted, he curled a hand around the back of my neck and pulled me close, so his forehead was pressed to mine as he spoke.
“Everything,” he repeated earnestly. “If you’re mine? Mallory, at the end of the day, that’s all that matters. Wedding or no wedding, I don’t care. As for kids?” Something like a laugh wrenched from his throat. “Even if you did want kids, what if we couldn’t have any? What ifIcouldn’t? Would you resent me?”
I kept my jaw firmly clenched to keep from responding. But he knew, as well as I did, that I wouldn’t.
“Exactly,” he muttered without needing me to answer. His hand gently flexed around my neck as if trying to relay the gravity of what he was saying. “I’ll still have you. I’ll haveeverything.” He tipped his head slightly closer so our lips brushed when he asked, “Do you understand?”
Just as I began nodding, his mouth pressed to mine, stilling the movement and the rest of my body as shock stole through me. And I wondered—albeit, briefly—how long it was going to take for me to get used to this.
But as my head cleared of all thoughts and my body melted against his as he slowly but confidently took control of the kiss, I kind of hoped I never would.
I never wanted to get used to the current that lit me up from the inside, like I was grabbing a live wire. I never wanted to get used to any of the ways he kissed me—soft and sure, hard and desperate, playful and teasing. I never wanted to get used to the way he held me, like I was precious, and he was afraid I’d disappear if he let go. I never wanted to get used to the ridiculous feeling like my heart just might escape the confines of my chest.
A stuttered inhale tore down my throat when his thumb skated along the side of my neck.
That. I never wanted to get used tothat. The way he could shake my very soul with a feather-soft brush against my skin.
I felt the twitch of his lips against my own before he was kissing me again. Stealing my breath and more of my heart with his lazy yet purposeful movements and adoring yet teasing nips. Everything so perfectly Hudson Gray.
Even after he laid us back down and curled me close against his chest, he never let it go further or let the kiss build. And after the exhausting day we were coming off, here, in the dark, it felt perfect.
“Marry me,” he breathed against my lips, startling me.
I shifted back enough to search his earnest gaze, a slightly stunned laugh leaving me. “I already did.”
Gray’s head dipped slightly. “I know. But I’m asking you now, sober, not on my knee—” A hushed laugh wheezed from him when I jammed a fist into his stomach, and he hurriedly curled one of his hands around mine. When he continued, his smile softened. “I’m asking younowif you’ll marry me.”
I thought for the span of one fluttering heartbeat before asking, “Do I have to wear a dress?”
His smile briefly widened. “No ceremony, Peach. Just need to know the answer.”
With a slow exhale, I forced myself to ignore every instinct and once again bared my soul to this man. “I would marry you, sober, every day, for the rest of my life,” I answered, repeating his own words back to him.
