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“I think I’ve rubbed off on you. Organization looks good on you. The sticky notes on your stomach worked.”
Shit. I picked up Dylan from his carrier, ignoring the comment. She had me and, from the laughter I heard, she knew it.
As promised, my mask was in the bag. Dylan waved little arms around as I changed him. Twice today I’d managed to come out unscathed. Yeah, I was becoming an expert diaper changer. I put on his clothes and laid him on a blanket on the floor with a rattle. George lay about a foot out of reach. Dylan loved to give his white fur a good yank.
Thirty minutes until go time.
Time was crawling like a fucking snail. I changed into my slacks and dress shirt. I refused to be in a monkey suit. Unable to tolerate the buttoned-up sleeves, I rolled them up instead.
The bathroom door was still closed.
I started pacing; Dylan watched me. “Come here, buddy.”
Together we paced the suite. Thirty minutes passed, and I thought I was going to come out of my skin as Dylan and I made our thousandth revolution. He was a happy baby and blew bubbles while I sang to him. Knoah had a custom suit made to match my outfit. Little guy was adorable, but his jacket and my shirt would be soaked through with slobber if we didn’t get a move on.
Time’s up.
We needed to go, or I was going to jump the gun and propose right here. Sawyer needed to see I was serious about this. It wasn’t a spur-of-the-moment thing. “Sawyer?”
“Coming. I have one minute left.”
Of course, she did. My ever-punctual, planning woman.
Almost sixty seconds—which felt like an eternity—later, Sawyer came out of the bathroom. She was breathtaking. Heels that made her legs look like they went on for miles. My cock hardened. Down boy. Patience. A simple white dress that hugged the hell out of her curves. I was sure it had all sorts of fancy terms, but all I knew was it looked hella hot.
“You are stunning.”
“Thank you. I don’t think I’ve worn anything without puke or a milk stain in two months.”
“Exquisite.” And later I would pull it up and fuck her in it.
I held out my arm, snapping to it. “Shall we?”
“Absolutely. Do we need the carrier?”
“Nah, I don’t think so.”
Sawyer gave George a treat before we left. Poor guy looked a little pitiful sitting with his head cocked to the side, questions in his big brown eyes.
Don’t worry, George. Waldo is coming for you.
As we rode down in the elevator, my nerves rose to the surface. What if she says no? What do I do? There was no option; she had to say yes. The need to make her my wife consumed me. Sawyer Hendrix. It had to happen.
Sawyer asked, “Is everything okay? You seem nervous since we got off the plane.”
Of course she noticed. “No, I’m good. Just want today to be special for you.”
And for you to finally say yes.
Damn, I had brought up marriage a million times over the last two months, only to be thwarted by her every time. Yes, I’d made the condition. I never dreamed Sawyer would be this damned serious about not pressuring me to marry her.
“You make every day special.” She leaned into me, the smell of her perfume making me harder. Since the doctor had cleared her for sex, I’d been nearly rabid for her sweet pussy.
The elevator dinged. About damn time. I cracked my knuckle with my thumb and winced. Sawyer raised her eyebrow. “Are you sure everything is okay?”
Damn it. Think. I had to keep her going and not focus on me. My nerves were already shot to shit with what I was about to do. “Yeah…just, um…germs, you know?”
Germs? What the fuck? I suck at this shit.
