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“Come on, Rose. What are you fighting, exactly?”
“My mother is going to murder you, and then me, for lying about this and getting her hopes up.”
“Lying? I did no such thing.” Blake grinned at her, and she wasn’t sure if she wanted to kiss or hit him.
“That’s funny. I think I’d remember agreeing to marry you.”
“Always with the memory…” He tutted and she flushed as she remembered how he’d decided to make things morememorablefor her on the bathroom floor not so long ago.
“Okay. If not my mom, then my dad will definitely have something to say that you didn’t ask his permission first.”
“Oh, I imagine he would. Except I did ask his permission.”
“You – what?”
Blake smirked. “You wouldn’t let me visit you in the hospital, but your dad had no such reservations.”
“But that wasweeksago!”
He shrugged. “Sad you’ve been missing out on being my fiancée for even that long? Understandable, I guess.”
Rose realized she was breathing hard, the rest of the room having faded away in the way that always happened whenever she was with Blake. At first, she’d just assumed it was her hatred for him consuming all of her thoughts but… she didn’t tend to kiss people she hated. Not really. She glanced up and around and saw an awful lot of faces still staring their way and Rose lowered her voice as she folded her arms across her chest and glared at him.
“I’m mad at you.”
“For almost leaving?”
She folded her arms tightly across her chest and only dropped them when she watched him notice how much doing so hiked up her breasts. “Yes. And… I miss Bailey.”
Blake slid half a step closer and brushed a hand across her cheek gently. “He misses you too. He misses seeing you in bed in the morning or with wet hair when you’re fresh out of the shower even though you prefer baths and–” He breathed out shakily, looking down and away from her until she tilted his chin up and was shocked to see blue eyes wet with tears that he blinked away. “I almost lost you too. I’ll never forget how cold you were in my arms, or the blood that… God, I didn’t think anyone could lose that much and live.”
She pressed a kiss to his lips, quick and fleeting, but she knew her mother had seen based on the squeal that erupted from somewhere on her right-hand side. “Yes, well, I couldn’t let you out-do me, remember?”
Blake laughed, a deep rumbly sound that filled her with warmth. “Want to get out of here?”
She snickered. “You live here, and I’m living at my parent’s place right now.”The Harthad been home for a long time, but things changed. People changed.
“Upstairs is off-limits to guests,” he countered, and she smirked.
“I guess you’ll have to make an exception for me then,” she said as she leaned in and pressed her hands to his chest before slipping one into his palm and squeezing.
Blake led them out of the ballroom and nodded to Christopher, presumably telling him he was in charge now. “You’re not a guest here, princess. This is your home too.”
She was so focused on Blake that she didn’t have time to think about the last time she’d been in this house, the photos that had littered the floor and led down the staircase. The truth was that there were too many good memories in this place outweighing the bad and Blake seemed to have a way of focusing her thoughts completely on him whenever they were together anyway.
Blake’s hand was hot in hers as he nudged open his bedroom door and pressed her against it as soon as they were inside.
“So does this mean you accept?” He taunted and she murmured in protest when he put an inch of space between their bodies.
“I didn’t think I had much choice in the matter.”
“You always have a choice, but the heart wants what it wants.” He pressed a long kiss to her mouth, stroking her tongue with his before pulling back and leaving her breathing hard. “So what I want to know is, are you mine? Or do you need me to get down on my knees for you again?”
Rose linked her hands behind his neck and let herself look at him, really look. Took in the softness of his eyes, the hopeful curl of his mouth, the locks of unruly hair that brushed his face despite the gel, and she smiled. “Well, I do think you skipped that stage before but… I think there would be very few things sweeter in this world than to be yours, David Blake.”
A slow smile spread across his face. “I love you. Have done since I was fifteen and you punched me in the balls for being mean to your best friend.”
“Chelsie,” she mused, and he smirked.
