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“That last part is a lie,” she says, slipping out of bed.
“What’s wrong?”
“When I brought home Marjorie, you said you didn’t want to have a third cat.”
“I was joking.”
She pulls on one of my shirts, then stares down at me. Her skin is still flushed from our lovemaking, and those bee-stung lips are even plumper. I immediately want to make love to her again.
“Stop looking at me like that.”
My eyes widen. “Like what?”
“Like you want to take my clothes off again.”
“I always want to take your clothes off.”
She snorts, but she starts pacing.
“Now, tell me, sweetness. What has you freaked out about marrying? Is it me?”
She stops pacing and settles her hands on her hips. “Jon Howard, you are the only man for me.”
I grab her hand and pull her back down on the bed. “Tell me.”
She draws in a breath. “Why do you want a wedding? Why do we need to do that?”
I frown. “I’m talking about getting married. Not a wedding.”
“But you’re a big billionaire and like to do things by the book.”
“Woman, I want you to be my wife. That’s it.”
“But—”
“I will marry you in the biggest wedding in the history of Texas, or we can do a Justice of the Peace. I don’t care. I just want to call you my wife.”
“Yeah?”
I nod.
“I want something small, just our families.”
I smile and brush her hair away from her face. “That sounds fantastic.”
“We can throw a reception at the big house or the senior center.”
With the help of my grandmother, we’ve set to work on the Pamela O’Bryan Senior Center. It will have a grand opening next year.
“You want to wait until next year?”
“You don’t?”
“I’d rather do it sooner than later, but I’ll wait for you until the end of time.”
There is a beat of silence, then her lips curve before she grins at me. Happiness explodes through me.
“I would too. Like, today.”
