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“Sweetheart, I’d have paid twice that just to get you to talk to me again.”

I blink.

“That’s disgustingly romantic.”

“Don’t tell anybody.”

“Your secret’s safe with me.”

He brushes a kiss across my forehead.

Then his expression turns serious.

“Stay.”

I smile.

“I’m already here.”

“Not tonight.”

I look at him.

“Gray?”

He takes my hand.

“I want you here tomorrow. Next week. Next year.” His thumb brushes over my knuckles. “I want your ridiculous pumpkin coffee in my kitchen. Your clothes in my closet. Your smart mouth giving me shit every morning.”

My throat tightens.

“That’s a lot of pumpkin coffee.”

“I’ll survive.”

“You sure?”

“Survived worse.”

I laugh softly.

He cups my face.

“I want you, Autumn. Not just tonight.”

My heart pounds.

“How long?”

His gaze holds mine.

“Forever.”

For a moment, I can’t speak.

Then I smile.

“Are you proposing?”