Maybe he wants the Sawmill Jill for a night or two.
And God help me, the idea of this man wanting me like that is enough to make my pulse race.
But I need more than a night.
I need a future.
I need protection for my son.
I need something real.
He goes very still.
“I mean it exactly like you think I do,” he says, voice low and unshakable.“Marry me, Kelly.”
My heart slams against my ribs.
“Let me have you,” he continues.“Let me stand beside you.I’ll take care of this.I swear it.”
We stop moving.
The music keeps playing.
But we’re frozen in the center of it.
He doesn’t look away.
Doesn’t soften the intensity.
He’s offering himself like a contract.
Like a vow.
And I realize something terrifying.
I don’t just want his protection.
I want him.
His strength.His steadiness.The way he looks at me like I’m something worth fighting for.
Before I can talk myself out of it—before fear can crawl back in and tell me I’m crazy—I nod.
Small.
But certain.
“I need you to answer in words, Honey.”
“Yes,” I breathe—no hesitation this time.
And for the first time since my marriage fell apart—I’m standing at the edge of something that feels reckless and real, and it has nothing to do with the man who broke me… and everything to do with the man who just claimed he wants to marry me.
The only question left is whether I can step into this without shrinking myself to fit it.
Because the truth?
I want J.T.Lawrence.
