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Every day, I watched. Sometimes, I wolf-whistled.
The nonagenarian from the grocery drove her ancient truck up the drive, ostensibly to trade some of her homemade banana bread for some firewood, but really to gather gossip. We didn’t mind her knowing about us; the town of Aspen Springs was a sort of family, made up of antisocial, yet deeply generous people. Mating gifts of homemade jams, beef jerky, and even some hothouse vegetables and flowers, showed up at least every other day.
Bobby’s boyfriend Glen joined him after the first week, and they became the perfect neighbors, staying close enough to the house that Donovan could relax, but far enough away that they couldn’t hear our sex noises.
At least, they acted like they couldn’t.
“Is this enough for you, sweetheart?” Donovan asked me one night, as we sat together at a small bonfire behind Bobby and Glen’s cottage. “You’re so young. Don’t you want more nightlife? Dancing or—” I quieted him with a hand over his lips.
“This is the life I never dreamed I could have. A private one. One filled with love, and all the time in the world to make things. I’ve always been that old lady who knits and bakes, ever since I was a girl. I love not having to pretend I’m a society princess now.”
“Do you miss the babies?” he asked after a moment. “Being a sitter?”
I sighed. I had made sure to establish a trust for the center in Denver, and the snuggles with the infants there was the only part of my old life I really missed.
But Donovan snuggled me every morning, and night, and sometimes in between. We had both been at least a little touch starved. We were making up for lost time.
It was one week before my eldest brother’s wedding, when the phone rang. It was my sister Kati, letting me know it was time to join the rest of the family and help with the fun and work. I called Bobby to let him know we’d need to start packing, then hung up, snuggled back down on Donovan’s lap, and popped his half-hard dick back in my mouth for a few more minutes.
We both enjoyed cock warming, and once he’d understood that it wasn’t always about having sex—and that I wasn’t trying to sneak some cum into my belly, instead of my vaj—he let me suck on him for as long as I wanted. Right now, he was reading a book on his phone. I was pretty sure it was something about sex, or possibly knots, since he kept getting super hard, then frowning at his dick until it went away.
I gave his dick one last kiss, then sat up, pulling my loose silk robe around my shoulders. I stared at the crackling fire with a sigh. “I don’t want to leave.” I let my gaze wander around the room, taking in what was no longer an austere space. Now, the corner by the windows was where I kept my loom, with enormous, overflowing baskets of yarn. The quilt I’d finished for Candy and Nicky was folded up at the end of the sofa next to the stacks of books I’d had Bobby bring in. Along the wall were boxes of new pots and pans that we hadn’t unpacked, and my sisters had overnighted half my wardrobe. It was a mess.
It looked like a home. My home. And I didn’t want to step one foot outside it. Not yet.
“I don’t want to share you with anyone.”
“Don’t you want to see your friends?”
I snorted. “What friends? My sisters are my besties. I’m a homebody, Donovan. Other than my family, you’re all I want. And I don’t want to share you with anyone.”
He looked smug for a moment, then chewed his lip. “You don’t regret mating me, do you? You know, you can tell me, if you do. I know I’m not… one of those pretty boys, like your sisters kept bringing around.”
Our bond felt shaky for a moment. He really was worried. I sat up abruptly, tucking his cock back in his briefs. “Is this because I didn’t want to make a big announcement? We told your sister and your parents.”
He shrugged, but I felt the thread of hurt on our bond. “I want the whole world to know, not just family.”
“Donovan, I promise, you’re everything I ever dreamed. More than I dared to hope for. I just don’t want the press reporting on me, or the family focusing on us instead of Nicky and Candy. We’ll have our turn to do all the wedding things…” I blinked furiously, wondering if I’d overstepped. My heart clenched as Donovan just rubbed his forehead, instead of saying anything. “Won’t we?”
Instead of answering, he stood and disappeared into his bedroom.
Oh shit. I clutched a hand to my heart, calling myself twelve kinds of idiot for rushing him. Men didn’t like to be pressured to get married. And he may have told me he loved me, but he’d never mentioned a wedding. Mating was enough, wasn’t it?
Oh god, it would have to be.
“Sweetheart, if you don’t stop worrying, I’ll have to punish you with orgasms until you can’t remember what you were worried about,” Donovan said with a smile. He kneeled next to me, shoving a stack of books aside. “Of course I want to marry you. I was hoping to ask you somewhere romantic, though.”
He captured my hand in his and drew it to his mouth, kissing it gently. Then he held up a small velvet bag. “I’m not a billionaire,” he began. I started to protest, but he tsked. “I said, I’m not a billionaire, but I am a wealthy enough man to buy you a ring of your own. But I thought, maybe…” He opened the pouch, and a gorgeous ring fell into his palm. “My grandmother came over from Iceland when she was a child. This ring was her mother’s. Would you wear it, Valentine? Would you wear it, and be my bride—someday?”
I couldn’t answer, but I nodded, and he slid the ring onto my finger. It was rose, white, and yellow gold, braided together, with small diamonds hidden in the weave like tiny flowers peeking out from inside the ring.
“Be my wife and live here with me. Have our babies and raise our children. Cook and bake and sew and invite all your family to join us and… be my Valentine forever?”
The bond between us thrummed with hope, and joy, and a love that I knew would last for our whole lives.
“Yes!” I threw myself into his arms. “Oh, Mr. Heart. I’m already yours.”
Epilogue
