Tate wasn’t sure he would ever get used to seeing Donovan like this. For so long, it had been a fantasy. It still didn’t seem real, and Tate worried that he was going to wake up any minute and find he was alone in his bed, and the past few days had been nothing more than a dream. He didn’t want to be dreaming. He wanted this to be real.
As though he sensed Tate was seconds away from having a full-blown panic attack, Donovan’s grip on him tightened as he pulled Tate back against him, his arms crossed over Tate’s chest. Tate hooked his hands on Donovan’s arms and stared at their reflection.
“I love you,” Donovan said, his eyes glittering in the vanity lights.
“You do?”Oh, man. Way to ruin the moment.
Donovan’s smirk was charged with both lust and love. “I realized I’ve asked you to move in and to marry me, but I haven’t told you that yet.” His arms tightened a little more. “But that’s what this feelin’ is. It’s love. Pure and simple.”
Tate stared at him, too stunned to speak.
“We don’t have to rush this, Tate. We can take this as slow as you need.”
Tate’s sinuses burned, and he feared he was about to cry. Somehow, he choked back the emotion long enough to say, “Were you serious?”
“About?”
“Marryin’ me.”
Donovan’s eyes glittered again. “I’ll do it tomorrow if you’ll say yes.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
Tate studied Donovan’s beautiful face in the mirror, but he wasn’t sure what he was looking for.
“I’m scared.” The words were out of his mouth before his brain gave them permission.
Donovan didn’t appear surprised. “Of?”
“This. You. Me. How do you know it’s real?”
“Because I feel it,” he said, his arms moving until his hand was over Tate’s heart. He tapped his chest twice. “I feel it here.”
“You’re sure it’s not lust?”
“I’m pretty sure I feel that somewhere else.”
Tate rolled his eyes because, yeah, now that he thought about it, that was a stupid question.
Donovan chuckled, and his eyes glittered with amusement as he released Tate, but only so he could turn him around.
Tate peered up into Donovan’s face, waiting for an explanation that might give him some reassurance that this wasn’t going to end in a week and he would be left with a broken heart. He wanted to believe it, but he’d been down this road before and knew he wouldn’t survive a broken heart delivered by Donovan Jameson. Tate had never felt anything remotely close to what he felt for this man, and if it didn’t work, he was pretty much ruined for life.
“I’m gonna prove it to you,” Donovan said, his eyes skimming his face. “We won’t have sex for six months.”
Tate jerked back. “What?”
Donovan laughed.
Tate realized he was joking, and he exhaled his relief. The thought of spending the next six months without sex with this man was preposterous. Hell, Tate was ready for another round already, but they had somewhere they needed to be. Otherwise, he would’ve already attempted to seduce him.
“Fine,” Donovan said. “You want sex, we’ll have sex.”
Tate couldn’t help it, he laughed. “I’m serious.”
“So am I. But if you want to take this slow, I can do slow. We can date. You can sleep in your bed, I’ll sleep in mine. Alone. Cold and alone. No body heat to warm us, no—”
