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"Why? It's a five-bedroom house, and there are only three of us there. You have your own bedroom."
His soft lips and the way he… my goodness. I kissed him again for a minute, moaning when he pulled back.
"So, you're staying at my house? You need to. Otherwise it'll be at a hotel, and there's no need to do that when I have all this room."
"Your mom."
"What about her?"
"Your parents. I don't want to disappoint them. I didn't want things to look like we're… living… together."
"But it's not the same room," he said. "And I want you to live with me."
"I want to live with you, too," I said since that was the understatement of the century. "But, we—"
"Marry me, then," he said, cutting me off. "Just, let's get married. I want to marry you, anyway. Don't you?"
Before I met Owen, I thought John was my only option for marriage. I thought I would never get married. But I didn't hesitate, not even for a second when he mentioned it.
"Yes," I said. "I would want that."
"You're going to be my baby forever, and we'll have paperwork to prove it." He pulled me close and let his mouth brush against my neck. "Now you can go where I go and stay where I stay."
"I want to," I whispered. "I missed you."
He kissed me, a gentle but possessive kiss. We couldn’t stop. We paid attention to nothing but each other for the next thirty minutes when the driver used the speaker and warned us that we were pulling into the neighborhood.
"Can you make that your job for the next few days?" he asked.
"Can I make what my job?"
"Can you get everything straight for us to say some vows to each other? I don’t know what we need. Proof of address? Birth certificates? You might need that stuff from your mom with your name."
I blinked at him. He was always focused and determined. That was how he was so productive with his life. But I never expected him to be saying this about a wedding. I thought we would get married, I knew we would eventually. But this was unexpected. I tilted my head at him.
"Seriously?"
"Yes."
"Here?"
"Yes."
"Now?"
"Yes. Why? Do you not want to?"
"No, I do, I just… your mom. Your mom, honestly. I'm worried about her."
"Don't let that change what you want to do."
"No, I love her, and I want to make her happy. Doesn't she want you to have a big, dream wedding someday? I heard her talking to your dad about…"
"What do you want?"
I blinked.
Owen already knew what I wanted. He knew me well enough to know that I would be willing to have a big wedding but that it wasn't my dream for it to be that way. I wasn't raised with all of that stuff. I made it fine, socially, with his friends and family but I wasn't necessarily looking forward to a time when all of their eyes would be on me—especially since I didn't have any family of my own that would be at the celebration.
