Page 127 of Rush

Me and Ares included. We’re dancing with Gigi. He’s carrying her, perched on his hip, one arm around my waist, and I’m holding Gigi’s hand.

And my ovaries are heading into serious overdrive.

“When are you and Uncle Ares getting married, Aunt Ari?”

Gigi has recently taken to calling me Aunt Ari, which I kind of love. Okay, I love it a lot.

But her question makes me choke a bit.

Ares chuckles as I make a strangled sound in my throat.

“Um…uh…well, I’m not sure, Gigi. One day, maybe.”

I see Ares’s eyebrows go up, and I worry that I’ve said the wrong thing. It’s not like we’ve discussed anything close to marriage before.

“Can I be a bridesmaid when you get married to Uncle Ares?”

“Uh…well…” I’m faltering. “If I get married to your uncle Ares, then you can definitely be a bridesmaid,” I tell her, gently tapping her nose with my index finger.

She giggles, making me smile.

“Gigi girl”—Missy comes dancing over, taking Gigi from Ares—“time to dance with me. Thea just ditched me to go dance with your uncle Lo. I mean, really? What’s that all about? And I’m left, looking like a loser out there, on my own on the dance floor.”

“Nothing new there.” Ares chuckles low.

Missy covertly flips him off, and he laughs again.

“Of course I’ll dance with you, Aunt Missy!”

Gigi leads Missy off into the middle of the dance floor, and they get their groove on. At the age of six, Gigi is by far a better dancer than Missy. She’s definitely got her mother’s talent for dancing. For Missy…talent isn’t exactly the word I’d use for her form of dancing.

I laugh silently to myself.

“So…what exactly did you mean by, if?” Ares’s deep voice brings my eyes back to his.

“Huh?”

He slides his arms around my waist, pulling me closer.

“You said, if you get married to me. I didn’t realize that was up for debate.”

“I didn’t realize it was a forgone conclusion.”

His brow rises. “Full disclosure?”

My lips curve into a smile. “Always.”

“It’s happening, babe. Maybe not today, tomorrow, or next week. But it will be happening. I’ll be getting down on one knee and asking you to be mine forever.”

My breath hitches. “I’m already yours.”

“Well, call me old-fashioned, but I want it to be official. I want my ring on your finger and my kids in your belly.”

It’s my turn for my brow to rise. “We’re having kids?”

“At least four,” he tells me.

“Four?” I almost yell, my eyes going wide. I figured, when the day came that I had kids, I’d have two. One of each.