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“Nope.” Slapping at him, I try to push up from the bed. But he’s too heavy, and I can’t move. “Crap, Jameson! You proposing to me and then dragging me home for all this sex made me forget something. We have to get out of bed.”
Jameson grabs my hands to stop me slapping at his chest. “What? It can wait until morning. I’ll help you with whatever it is in the morning, I promise. Because you’re not leaving this bed, Lemon.”
“Yes, I am. It can’t wait. I have to do it right now. And you have to come, too.”
“What the hell is so damn important?”
“Come on, get your ass up, kid.”
Pushing against his chest until he finally lets me go, I stand up and grab my robe from the back of the bedroom door.
“What’s going on, Lemon?”
“You’ll see. If you get your butt out of bed. Come on, kid.”
“I don’t know why I’d want to be anywhere that isn’t in bed with you, babe. But I’m coming. I just got you to agree to marry me. I’m not letting you get away now.”
“Let’s go, kid.”
“Do I need pants?”
“Up to you. You never have to wear pants, as far as I’m concerned.”
“I know you like me with no pants on, babe.”
“Naked Jameson is one of my very favorite Jamesons.”
“Uh-huh.”
Jameson walks over to the chair in the corner of my bedroom—our bedroom—where he tossed his jeans on top of my clothes that were already on it.
I watch as he pulls them on and zips them up. But he leaves the button undone, and it looks so freaking sexy.
“Those pants are coming off again as soon as we finish… the thing I forgot to do.”
“Why are you being so damn cryptic, Lemon?”
“It’s a woman’s prerogative to be cryptic and mysterious.”
My fiancé arches a dark eyebrow at me. “The way you were staring at my dick when I put my jeans on just now wasn’t exactly mysterious, babe.”
“You just signed up for a lifetime of me staring at your perfect dick, so you can take your complaints somewhere else.”
“No one here’s complaining, babe. Not a single bit. I always want your eyes on me. And your hands. And your mouth.”
I can’t stop smiling. “Idiot. Keep walking, kid. Let’s go.
chapter sixty-three
jameson
“We’re going outside? Did you forget to do something in the greenhouse?”
“Let’s go, kid.”
When my girl holds out her hand to me, I take it. I’m always going to take it. Even if she is acting weird and dragging my ass outside at midnight when we could be in bed.
“This isn’t the way to the greenhouse, babe,” I mutter when she drags my ass off the back porch in the opposite direction.
