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"You keep bringing up marriage," I whisper.
He quirks a brow at me. "You think we aren't getting married?"
"I…didn't say that." Lord, he's crazy. Why do I love it so much? "You haven't asked me if I want to marry you."
"We decided we weren't talking about it until you were ready to say yes."
I scowl at him, which makes him smirk at me again.
"You're marrying me," he murmurs, rubbing his thumb against my bottom lip. "Might as well get used to the idea because it's happening."
"You're so bossy."
"You complaining?"
"No."
He laughs.
"I mean yes," I huff, scowling at him. "You can't boss me."
"Baby, I'll beg if that'll make you happy. But you will be marrying me sooner rather than later. Besides," he says, his eyes lighting up. "You might be carrying my baby. We're not going to be living in sin when our baby gets here."
"Living in sin?" I gape at him.
"You're moving in with me."
I slide forward in the tub, bringing my knees up. I lay my forehead against them and whimper. He really is insane.
"I'm going to throw up," I whisper, which makes him chuckle.
"I'll stop," he says, wrapping his hands around my waist to pull me back up against him. "But we will be revisiting this conversation as soon as I get home from Miami, Laney. I'm already going to be a miserable son of a bitch without you tomorrow night. I like having you close."
"Me too," I whisper.
He brushes his lips across the back of my neck again. "That's because you know this is where you belong, angel. You're mine to take care of now."
"What if I don't want to be taken care of?" I ask, simply because I can't resist teasing him. It serves him right for bringing up marriage and babies and moving in all at once. My head is still spinning.
He groans, the sound full of misery. "Then I'll drive myself crazy trying to change your mind. I like the thought of taking care of you, of being the man who gets to love you and protect you."
"Weston," I gasp, my heart leaping into my throat.
"Your dad isn't here to do it anymore. I think he'd be okay with me taking it from here, cutie pie. He liked me."
"Weston," I say again, my voice strangled.
"Are you freaking out because we're naked and talking about your dad or because I said I love you?" he murmurs.
"Both."
His body shakes against mine. "I love you."
"You can't just say that!" I say, my voice a high-pitched squeak.
"I didn't just say it." He picks me up and turns me around so I'm straddling his lap. His soulful eyes meet mine, full of warmth. His smile is tender, indulgent. "I meant it. I'm ridiculously in love with you. I think I have been since you made me beg you to be my Valentine. Maybe even before that."
"You definitely need to see a doctor," I say…shout, really. "You probably have brain damage because of the puck yesterday.And you've just been running around since then, getting more damaged. Do you have a fever? Maybe I should call 911. Where's the nearest emergency room?"
