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“I’m going to be an ol’ lady?”
He moved to the window looking out to the street and pulled the blinds. “Isn’t that where this is going?” he asked.
I hoped that was where we were headed, but I didn’t want to assume anything. “If that is what you want.” There, that was somewhat hinting at me wanting to be his ol’ lady, but it wasn’t flat-out screaming it to the world. Yet.
“A lot of shit is going to go down the next few weeks, and you and I not knowing what we’re doing is not something I want to deal with.”
“Uh, so?”
He shook his head and laughed. “So you wanna be my ol’ lady, Imogen?”
My heart raced at the thought of being Mace’s ol’ lady. That was huge. “I mean, I wouldn’t be opposed to it.”
“Yes or no, babe. We’re not beating around the bush here.”
Wow. WOW. My heart raced, and I fought back the urge to scream yes. “I would like that.” I crossed my legs and demurely folded my hands on my knees.
“You would like that, huh?” Mace stalked to me and scooped me into his arms. “Would you like this, too?” His lips crashed down on mine, and he took my breath away. “Things in my life could change really quickly soon, Imogen. I could be spending the rest of my life in prison or get off scott free. I need to know either way you’re with me. I can’t play games and go back and forth with you. Are you mine?” he growled.
My eyes dropped to his lips, and I didn’t hold back what I wanted to say this time. “I’ve been yours since you knocked the Pratt boys out. It was you then, and it’s still you.”
“That’s my girl,” he whispered. “I never forgot about you, Imogen.”
I face-planted into his chest. I always loved Mace. He was the only person I had in my life who cared about me. Every morning we would walk to school together, and most afternoons we made the walk home together. And the one afternoon he was late getting out of school, I left alone, but he was there when I absolutely needed him.
Sure, it would have been great if he had been five minutes sooner, but I had learned that things in life happened for a reason, and it was all about the way you rose from the ashes and moved on.
After fifteen years, I was ready to move on with Mace.
“Also, for the record, I will call you Mace, but you’ll always be Jonathon in my heart.”
He chuckled low and rubbed his hands up and down my back. “I accept that, babe. And I would also like it to be on record that if you would have given me even the slightest clue that you were into me back then, my horny seventeen-year-old ass would have been all over you like a fat kid on a cupcake.”
“Mace,” I giggled. I stroked his stubbled cheek and pressed a kiss to his lips. “You are such a sweet talker.”
“It’s the damn truth, babe. You don’t even want to know how many nights I spent thinking about you.”
“No! I don’t want to hear this because it makes me mad that I missed all these years with you.” I shook my head. “No.” I didn’t even want to think about what I would have done if I knew Mace liked me. So many things would have been different, but this end result might now have happened. I leaned my head back and pressed a kiss to his lips. “Now let’s go see my grandma and find the papers that will prove you didn’t kill Kent.”
“And those papers are also going to prove you’re innocent, too, babe. If I’m not going down for his murder, neither are you.”
I wasn’t completely sure about that, but I was hopeful he was right.
Mace and hope were all I had.
*
Chapter Seventeen
Mace
“I don’t know if I am ready for this.”
We were standing outside of Imogen’s grandma’s room, and she was wringing her hands like they were a soaking wet towel. “What are you afraid of, babe?” She had told me her grandma wasn’t exactly happy about her moving to San Diego with her, but the woman had to care about her somewhat since she let her stay with her.
“Of her,” she whispered. “For four years, I did everything possible to make her happy, and nothing was ever good enough. I could tell her I got an A on my algebra test, and she would want to know why it wasn’t an A+. The woman hated me, just like my own mom hated me.”
“Well, if she hates you, this can be the last time you ever have to talk to her. We ask her if she has the papers we need or if she knows where to find them, and then we leave.” I wasn’t going to make Imogen be around a woman who didn’t like her. Hell, I didn’t want to be around someone who couldn’t see how wonderful Imogen was.
