Page 95 of Was I Ever Real

I melt.

When the lasagna is safely placed on the kitchen island, he pulls off the mitts and stalks toward me. Placing his palm on the table in front of me, he leans over while I’m holding onto my wine glass like a life raft.

His kiss is tender, and somehow those kisses unsettle me more than anything.

When he pulls away, he smirks and says in a low and gravelly voice, “Wait here.”

He turns on his heel and he’s out of the kitchen before I can even blink.

I break into a cold sweat, trying not to obsess over the thought that he didn’t say it back.

I stew in silence, listening to his steps echo in the foyer until he reappears, his cheeks slightly flushed. He rounds the table and sits in the chair beside me, pulling it even closer until our knees touch. His hands engulf mine, pulling them up to his mouth, his lip grazing my knuckles.

My gaze flickers to his and I feel even more frazzled.

But then my awareness zeroes onto something foreign in the palm of my hand, and I look down and slowly unfurl my fingers, my heart skipping a beat.

What I find is the most beautiful vintage ruby ring I’ve ever seen, the band intricately woven and encrusted with small diamonds around the oval setting. I look up at him in shock, tears suddenly blurring my vision.

“It’s breathtaking,” I say softly.

His expression falls suddenly serious, searing and unrelenting.

“Listen carefully to what I’m about to say.”

I simply nod, eyes wide.

Taking the ring still sitting heavily in my palm, he slips it onto my ring finger—the perfect fit. “This,” he says, while pointing to me and then him, “isreal, Lenix. And it’s for life. I adore you. I love you so damn much that it feels like I’ve always loved you, but I’ve just been too much of an idiot to realize it until now. It doesn’t matter how it started, the only thing that matters is that there’s no end between us.”

My lip quivers and I pull him in for a kiss, his tongue swiping against the seam and I let him in, eager to taste him, to swallow him whole.

I love him, fuck do I love him.

He pulls away, breathless, forehead touching, giving me a quick kiss on the tip of my nose before his palms wrap around my face holding me there.

“Now, with that ring back on your finger, everyone will know you’re Connor Maxwell’s wife and will be treated as such.”

“And how’s that,” I say trying to tease, but my voice cracks with emotions.

He smiles, his lips curling devilishly. “Like a living goddess.” His expression softens, my face still cradled in his strong capable hands. “This is forever, my darling.”

Then he’s on his feet, wrapping an arm under my knees, lifting me into his chest, striding out of the kitchen and up the stairs.

“What about the lasagna?” I say with a giggle.

“Who gives a fuck about food when my wife is on the menu?” he says with a growl, kicking our bedroom door open with his foot.

Chapter 52

TheweightofhavingLenix in my arms connects me to a longing that feels like it’s been there for fucking lifetimes—or even eternity. Who am I to say? All I know is that whatever happens to me after I die, I don’t care, because I’ve already experienced bliss and it’s her.

I near the bed, letting her knees drop and set her on her feet. Although, I would almost prefer to keep her like this—in my arms, leaning into my chest, her soft breaths fanning over my neck. I take a small step back, taking her in with a slow sweep from head to toe and back up again. As I do so, she steps out of her shoes and drops a few inches, her eyes rising slowly as she keeps her gaze locked on mine.

I reach out and trail my fingers down her arm, taking pleasure in the goosebumps I awaken and swallow hard. My nerves are crackling deep in my stomach, I’m thinking Lenix has similar ones from the shallow breaths she’s taking.

Sex has always been easy between us.

But tonight feels different.

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