by Carian Cole
I punch his leg. “To Ivy, fool.”
He twitches his arm, almost causing me to gouge his artwork right out of his flesh. “Lukas, are you kidding me? Fucking marriage?”
I lean my elbow on his arm. “Sit still. And yes.”
“Dude. Why.”
I frown up at him. “Because I love her.”
“You can love her and not, like, legalize that shit, bro.” He shoves his shades up on his head, pushing his long hair back, and stares at me like I’ve lost my mind.
“I want to legalize it. I really love her and the kids. Her divorce is finally final, too. It took forever.”
His face twists into a smirk. “Fucking divorce! Do you really want to be second, man? The second husband? The stepfather? That shit sucks.”
Turning to my worktable, I shake my head at him. “I don’t care about all that. We love each other. We’re good together. She makes me feel safe.”
“Safe? Is she a ninja? Safe from what?”
I don’t know why I ever bother to talk to Finn about my relationship. He’s had a string of one-night stands since he was fourteen, and has zero concept of commitment or love. I keep hoping that, one day, he’ll meet the right chick and fall in love, and experience it like the rest of the world, but so far, no dice.
Turning back to him, I hold his arm down and continue his sleeve. “I mean content. That kind of safe. Like, I know she won’t hurt me or blow my friends. I can trust her.”
“Speaking of blowjobs, where’s the chick that used to work at the front desk?”
Ugh, Dana worked here for a little while and seemed to think that offering sexual favors to our customers was part of her job description.
“I fired her.”
“Well, shit. That new babe working the front now is even hotter, though. I gotta get me a piece of that.”
I freeze and glare at him. “That’s my younger cousin, Rayne, asshole. Don’t you go near her.”
“What the fuck, cockblocker.”
Sighing, I try to divert his attention. “Anyway, I’m going to propose this weekend, I think. I need something happy in my life now. I just have to organize something really cool.”
He tilts his head. “You could jump out of a plane together and propose in mid-air.”
“No.”
“You could tie the ring around your dick and tell her to blow you, and when she gets down there, kabam!”
“No.”
“You could send her on a treasure hunt. Like, give her clues that she has to solve, and at the end, there you are. With the rock. Boom.”
I nod slowly, wondering how crazy I am for even considering any idea that comes out of Finn’s head. “Hmmm . . . that’s actually not a bad idea. I’ll think about that one.”
“The plane and the blowjob sounds much cooler to me, man.”
Rayne pokes her head around the curtain, and I wave her in. “What’s up?” I ask.
“I was going to order lunch. Do you want anything from the café?”
“Just my usual latte, thanks. Get Finnster one, too, and take some money out of the register.”
She turns on her heel, but Finn stops her. “Hey, baby, wait a sec. If I was gonna propose to you, would you rather jump out of a plane with me and get the ring mid-air, or find it tied around my dick?”
I laugh as she curls her lip at him. “Um, neither?”
Finn frowns at her. “What? I’m not good enough for you?”
I watch in horror as she smiles shyly at him. “I’m only nineteen. I don’t even want to think about marriage until I’m like forty.”
“Yes!” he yells. “Perfect answer. You are the woman of my dreams.” He winks at her, and I hold back from punching him, even though I really want to pummel his face for flirting with my sweetheart of a cousin. “Now, you hafta marry me” he says. “When you’re forty, of course.”
I point to the door. “Rayne. Out. Get lunch. Don’t provoke him.”
She giggles and skips out, leaving me to glare at my best friend. “Dude. Don’t even think about it. She’s off limits. Period,” I warn.
He stretches his arm out, and I start the design on the top of his hand that will extend down his fingers. “Why? She’s legal. And she’s fucking hot.”
“Are you dim? Do you know who she is?”
“Your hot cousin? What else is there to know?”
“She’s the little sister of like everyone in Ashes & Embers. Storm and Asher would kill you if you went near her. Not to mention ruin your career.”
He lets out a low whistle. “Fuck. I didn’t realize she was related to all them.”
“Yeah. So forget it. She can’t be one of your playthings.”
He shrugs and grins. “So, how old is your future stepdaughter?”
CHAPTER 23
LUKAS
MOST PEOPLE THINK that a marriage proposal is all about the woman and making it special for her—and it is (calm down, chicks)—but I think a lot of guys want it to be meaningful for themselves, too. They just don’t want to admit it because they think they’re too cool. Me? I got no problems admitting I want this night to be memorable for both of us. But, yeah, I really wanna blow her fucking mind and obliterate any memories that she once had a first husband.
Finn was kinda right; I hate that someone married my girl before I found her.
I couldn’t have asked for a more perfect night for my plan. The air is warm, but not humid. Placing the last flameless candle on the table, I take a step back and look at the balcony I’ve transformed. I decided to not use real candles, so I could leave everything set up while we go to dinner and not have to worry about burning the house down. I’ve shoved the love seat to the far side and laid a huge faux fur rug in the middle of the balcony floor. The electric fireplace is lit in the corner, with the heat option turned off, and earlier today, I strung new tiny purple lights around the edges of the balcony. It looks magical, exactly as I envisioned it.
I pick her up at her house and take her out to dinner to the nicest restaurant in the area. She looks beautiful wearing a little black dress that shows off her curves perfectly, and I love that she has no clue how sexy she looks. I notice that she’s wearing the amethyst I gave her a few weeks ago, dangling from her neck on a delicate white gold chain. Before Ivy, I never bought a girl many gifts, but I love to surprise her with them. Giving her gifts has become a sort of addiction for me. Sometimes, it’s cute things like stuffed toys, or maybe something I’ve made for her, and other times, it’s expensive like jewelry. The best part is seeing her face light up, how her eyes go wide like saucers, and then she jumps up and down excitedly before tackling me with kisses. She’s the reason I wake up smiling every day, my own sunny anchor keeping my world grounded. Without her, I’m not sure how I would have been able to get through Katie’s death. Ivy held me when I needed to cry, listened when I needed to talk, spent hours with me looking at photographs reminiscing, and pulled me back up when I started to slip too far into grief.
On the drive back to my house after dinner, we hold hands but don’t talk much. I’m a little lost in my own head, worried that maybe what I’ve planned isn’t good enough and is just too simple. I thought about a thousand proposal ideas, some insane like Finn’s suggestions, some over the top and just cheesy, but I finally decided that romantic is the way to go. What better place than where we had our first real deep moment—on my balcony? I hope she feels the same way.
“Tonight’s the night,” Ray squawks when we enter the house, and I want to smack him. He must have heard me on the phone earlier with Finn.
Ivy laughs at him as she takes her coat off. “What’s he talking about now?”
I throw the cover over his cage, hoping he’ll shut up and go to sleep, and shrug nonchalantly. “He’s been watching too much television again. I keep forgetting to turn it off when I go down to the shop in the mornings.”
Grabbing her hand, I lead her upstairs, and I actually feel shaky, like I’m gonna skitz out from nervousn
ess.
“Wow, it looks even more beautiful here tonight!” she marvels when she sees how I’ve got it decorated. “I love the new lights you added. When did you do all this?”
“Let’s sit.” I guide her to the white rug and gently pull her down on the floor with me. She takes off her black high heels and tucks her feet under her, eyeing me suspiciously.
“Are you okay?” she finally asks. “You look a little pale.” She reaches toward me and puts her palm on my forehead.
“Ivy . . . I love ya, babe, but don’t do the mom stuff right now. I’m fine.” I reach beside the fireplace and grab my violin. “I have a surprise for you, and I’m a little nervous. That’s all.”
“Oh!” she exclaims excitedly. “You’re going to play for me? Finally?”
I grin and nod at her. “I wrote a song just for you. No singing, though. Just an instrumental. I’m sorry it took so long.”
She claps her hands like a little kid, a big smile spreading across her face. “Lukas! I’m so excited.”
She’s been begging me to play for her since she heard me play at the club, but I’ve been writing her a special melody over the past few months and didn’t want her to hear it until it was perfect.
I close my eyes and start to play. The melody is slow, deep, and emotional. It’s everything she makes me feel, and I’m grateful I’m talented enough to play with true emotion, to make her feel it with me.
Her eyes don’t leave me as I play, and she sways as she listens, her eyes glimmering with tears. She loves it; I can feel it pouring out of her. She loves me. She has become my world, my best friend, my lover, my biggest fan, my queen. I’ve played the violin and piano in front of all sorts of crowds, ranging from metal concerts to classical plays to open mic night at the café, but playing this for her means more to me than any other audience I’ve ever been in front of. I want her to be proud of me and feel equal standing next to me as my wife. I won’t ever be some big fucking executive in a corner office wearing a tailored suit, but I know for damn sure that I’ll be someone she and the kids will be proud of.
“I loved it,” she whispers when I’m finished playing, her voice hoarse. “It was so incredibly beautiful . . . and moving. I have goosebumps.” She sniffles and wipes at her eyes. “You’re amazing.”
“I’m glad you like it. It’s called Fierce.”
She nods, smiling knowingly at me, remembering. “You do love me that way, just like I asked you to,” she murmurs.
“I do, Ivy. More than you could ever know.”
Moving closer to her, I take her face in my hands, kissing her deeply, wanting to possess every part of her.
“I love you the same,” she says breathlessly.
“I was hoping you’d say that. Close your eyes, little doll.”
A nervous smile touches her lips, and her eyes close. I take her hand and gently slide the diamond ring onto her finger. After weeks of searching, I found it at an antique shop, and it’s perfect for her—for us. A two-carat heart-shaped diamond set in rose gold with tiny diamonds and floral etchings down the side, it’s delicate and feminine, just like her.
“Open your eyes.” I whisper.
Her eyes flutter open, but she doesn’t look at her hand. Instead, she locks her eyes on to mine. “I know what you just did,” she says, choking up. “And I’m not going to look at it yet. First, I’m going to tell you how precious you are to me, and I love you with everything that I am. My soul recognized yours that day we first met, and I just couldn’t deny it, even though I tried. I love you more than I ever thought possible.”
She stills my heart in the way that only she can. “I had a big speech memorized, but you just made me forget it,” I say, taking a deep breath. “So, I’m gonna just say what I feel now. You’re everything to me. You’re the stability and safety I need, and the only one I would trust my heart with. You can make all my dreams come true, and I want to make yours come true, if you let me. I promise I will always cherish you and your kids.”
We kiss before she finally looks down at her hand, her eyes widening and her mouth falling open. “My God, Lukas, it’s beautiful.” She covers her mouth as she stares at it. “Wow. Holy moly, I love it,” she turns her hand, making the diamond sparkle. “I don’t even know what to say. Thank you so much.”
I smile at her and take her hand in mine, lifting it to my lips for a kiss, my eyes not leaving hers.
“You don’t thank me for an engagement ring, baby. You say yes. Or no. But, hopefully yes.”
“Yes. It’s still yes. It will always be yes.”
“Good.” I lean closer and kiss her softly. “Welcome to your happily ever after.”
She grabs my shirt and pulls me against her. “God, Lukas, I don’t know how you do it, but somehow you always manage to take my breath away.” She presses her soft lips to mine again and then pulls away, grinning impishly at me. “This is kinda funny, but I have a special gift for you tonight, too.”
I lean back against the love seat and stretch my legs out in front of me. “Does it entail you getting naked soon? Because I’m about to rip that dress off you.” Emotional closeness with her always mutates into an intense need to have wild sex with her, and tonight is no different. I want her clothes off like yesterday.
She laughs and smiles seductively at me. “You get that, too, but first . . . this.” She digs into her purse and hands me a small box.
I take it in my hand and slowly turn it over. It’s a very small box, like a ring box, and it’s made of oak. I’ve never seen such a tiny box made of real wood before. “It’s wild. I love it.”
She lets out an exasperated sigh. “Lukas! That’s just the box! Open it.”
“I love the box, though. It’s handmade. I can tell.”
“I know that. I found it just for you, for what’s inside. Now open it.”
Inside the box, nestled in purple velvet is a black metal ring with a tiny teal gem that’s the exact color of her eyes. I suck in a breath, and my heartbeat quickens. No one has ever given me such a meaningful gift. My fingers shake as I try to take the ring out of its velvet bed, but I can’t even grab it. She leans forward and takes it out of the box for me.
“Looks like we’ve had the same thing on our minds lately,” she says softly. “I wanted to give you a symbol of my love for you, a promise that I’m going to be here with you forever.” She slips it onto my right hand. “We’ll leave that finger open for your wedding band.” She nods toward my left hand.
“I’m never gonna take it off. Ever.” I pull her onto my lap and slide my hand up her thigh, under her tight skirt, and squeeze her ass. “I can’t say the same about this dress. You look hot as hell in this thing, but it’s totally in the way of me making love to my future wife.”
I grab the front of her dress and rip the fabric apart, splitting it at the v of her cleavage all the way down to her belly button. Black lace remains, cradling her breasts. I slip my finger under the fabric of her bra between her breasts and pull her closer to me.
“Did you think I was kidding?” I nip at her lip and give the thin fabric a quick yank, tearing it in two. My hands roam up to caress her breasts, and I suck a nipple into my mouth, flicking my tongue over the hardening bud. She gasps and grabs onto my shoulders, her nails digging through the fabric of my shirt. The quick panic that overcomes her when I let myself loose on her turns me on like fucking mad. Most times, I like to treat her sweet and go slow with her, but other times, like now, going slow just isn’t enough to tame the beast that likes to come out and play.
I slide my tongue over her soft mound and encircle her nipple with my tongue, while my hand delves between her legs, disappearing under her skirt and pushing the thin fabric of her panties aside to feel her wetness.
“You know I love you more than anything in this world, right?” I slip my finger between her soft wet lips, and she lets out a tiny whimper.
She nods, which she does when she’s so turned on that she can’t speak.
&
nbsp; “Remember all those times you said I was too young for you?” I slip a second finger into her and twist them both inside her, spreading her.
She nods and reaches between us to unbutton my shirt.
“That was bullshit, wasn’t it?” I taunt, wanting to hear her talk dirty to me. Nothing gets me going like when she does that.
Her hands touch my chest, and she leans her head against mine.
“Say it,” I coax, fingering her deeper and kissing her breasts.
“It was bullshit,” she whispers, spreading her legs a little bit more.
“Tell me why . . . I wanna hear you say it.”
She kisses my lips hungrily as I finger her. “I love it all . . . your tattoos and your long hair and your hard body. I love your music and how sexy and wild you look on stage. I love knowing you’re mine. I love how you fuck me and how wet you make me. You drive me wild.” My thumb finds her clit and rubs it languidly, while my fingers thrust deeper inside her. “And I love how sweet and caring you are. You’re perfect.”
My heart swoons, and my cock grows harder. “I kinda love having an older chick that sits in a big office, wearing a pretty little suit and librarian glasses, that comes home to let me fuck her brains out in a church.”
She reaches between my legs and rubs my cock through my jeans. “I want you . . .” She sighs. “I can’t wait to be your wife.”
Fuck. I love how that sounds. My wife.
I love how she’s sweet and sexy just for me.
“I want you to do me one favor,” I say, watching her crawl down my body to kneel at my feet and pull my shoes and pants off.
“Anything.”
“Please, don’t ever refer to me as your second husband. I hate it. It makes my heart scream.”
Her hand encircles my hard cock and slowly glides up and down my shaft.
“I promise. In my heart you’ll always be the only one,” she says, before lowering her lips down over my cock. I lean back and gather her hair in my hand, gently pulling it away from her face so I can watch her. I know it makes her uncomfortable to be so visible, but I’ve learned that if I don’t push her a little, she’ll let her insecurities take over, and she’ll hide from me. It’s a shame Paul never made her feel sexy and wanted, but I’m going to spend the rest of my life doing just that.
