“Take me home, Gabriel Marx,” she whispered into the crook of his neck.
“Your place or mine?”
“Wherever you want, as long as I’m with you.”
“How was that argument?” Bex asked, falling across Gabe’s chest, her heart pounding all the way to her fingertips and toes. They lay together, Gabe still inside her after their last orgasms, their bodies and their hearts intertwined on the bed. Moonlight spilled in through the windows of his bedroom and edged everything in silver.
“Very persuasive,” Gabe said, low and sleepy. “You can make arguments with me anytime.” His eyes slit in contentment, and he brushed his hands down her back to cup her butt. He squeezed his palms gently, a hand on each cheek. “You hungry?”
She lifted her head to kiss him. Now that she had him again, she couldn’t get enough. Her hips churned against his. “Only for you.”
He smiled. “While I appreciate that, you need some food to replenish your energy. I still have big plans for you tonight.”
She groaned, running her hands through his dark hair and pulling him back for another deep kiss. “How about later?”
“We’ve got all the time in the world, Bex.”
She nodded at him. “Please say that again.”
He pulled her hips against his, and she loved how electric it felt when they fit together. “We’ve got all the time in the world.” He kissed the spot under her ear that always made her thighs tremble. “I’m going to love you every day of my life, no matter if you’re healthy or sick. No matter if you’re feeling brave or scared. We’re in this together.”
“Okay,” Bex said. “Well in that case.”
Gabe pulled out of her and sprinkled kisses across her collarbones before he slid out of bed. Then he padded toward the bathroom, but she lay in bed for a minute and held a hand on her beating heart. She loved this man so damn much. And he was going to let her back in. She wanted to deserve his love. That started today, by doing things right.
Bex slipped from the sheets and walked across Gabe’s room toward the dresser. She pulled it open, terrified of what she would find, and then her heart soared. All her clothes were still here for her. All the things Gabe had bought. He’d kept them, trusting that she’d come back.
She smiled and closed the drawer, reaching for one of Gabe’s T-shirts instead. She could wear her own clothes anytime, but wearing something of his felt necessary. She was going to soak up every minute of him she could get, and that started by smelling like him—that perfect mix of soap and spice and earthy cologne.
Bex found Gabe in the kitchen, standing over the stove in only a pair of boxer briefs. He hummed Blackbird by The Beatles as he flipped pancakes in a cast-iron skillet, the muscles in his arms flexing as he shuffled the food in the pan.
“That smells delicious.”
She wrapped her arms around his chest and leaned her cheek against his back. Gabe squeezed her arms with his free hand, and she joined in singing, her voice clear and calm, in perfect harmony with his. For a flashing second she was singing to her dad, singing away all the ache and fear of his illness, because right here, in this moment, with her lungs full and her heart open, it was like she could squeeze all the pain out of the room.
At the chorus, Gabe stopped singing, and his knuckles went white from clutching the spatula.
She broke off her song. “What’s wrong?”
Gabe set down the spatula and turned in her arms, those whiskey eyes so deep and drowning. “I’ve heard your voice before.”
Wait, what?
She blinked at him in confusion. “Of course you have.”
“No, I mean, singing that song.”
Goosebumps swept over her arms. “Blackbird?” she whispered. He nodded, and she licked her lips. “I used to sing that to my dad in the hospital.”
Gabe’s face was pale. “You never told me which hospital, Bex.”
“City of Hope. Why?”
Gabe’s face was unreadable, so full of emotion she couldn’t be sure if he was going to cry or kiss her. “Because that’s where I had my surgery, honey. And I lay in my bed, recovering, while some girl with the voice of an angel sang that song over and over again. And that’s what got me through.”
“Blackbird,” Bex repeated, and he nodded at her.
“It was you, Bex.” Gabe pulled her into his arms and tucked her head under his chin. His voice cracked with validation. “I told you I had seen you before. That night we met.”
She smiled against his chest. “I thought for sure it was a line.”
“Guess we know who won that round, then.”
She giggled. “I’d say we both did.”
Gabe nodded. “We’ll call it a draw. You saved my life, you know, and no matter what comes next, I’m going to be here to save yours.”
Her heart choked in her throat. “I love you, Gabriel Marx.”
“I love you, Rebecca Kingsley.”
“Good,” she said, then tilted back to smile at him. “Because I’m starving.”
He kissed the end of her nose. “I like a girl with an appetite.”
She smiled back at him, her heart wide and open and utterly his. “That’s what I hear.”
Epilogue
Bex’s house buzzed with the noise of forty grown-ups, a half-dozen babies, four toddlers, and Vinny slowly letting the air out of a balloon. The farting noise sent the toddlers into peals of laughter, and even from the dining room, Bex could hear them in the living room, giggling and begging for more.
She smiled from her seat at the dining room table. It was Weston’s Gotcha Day—the official day his adoption paperwork went through—and for an adoptive family, it was almost as important as any birthday ever could be. This was the day things became really real, not that Sam and Dare had been anything but parents from the moment they brought Weston home. But things could only go forward from here.
A hand-lettered banner spelling out “Gotcha,” stretched across the archway separating the living room from the dining room, and a few stray balloons that Vinny hadn’t plundered crowded up against the low ceiling of Bex’s house. Her nephew giggled from his highchair at the head of the dining room table, half milk-drunk and completely overstimulated from the crowd. Still, Sam swept through the room like a pro, grabbing a burp cloth and pressing it to his son’s lips. Then he dropped into the chair next to Weston and cracked open a beer.
“I can’t believe this day is here,” Bex started. “And what a way to ring in the New Year.” True, it was a few weeks past the holiday, but she hadn’t had the heart to take down her Christmas tree from its cozy spot in the living room, and New Year’s confetti was still ground into the carpet, no matter how many times she’d vacuumed.
“I know.” Sam’s voice was so proud, so damn happy. He and Aderyn deserved this. “He’s mine, Bex. He’s ours.”
Bex reached for her brother’s hand and squeezed.
“Thank you again for this party,” Sam said. “And for cleaning out the damn china cabinet.”
She grinned, looking over his shoulder at the shelves where her toy collection once stood. “I mean, plates don’t have the same effect as dildos, but it’s not a bad look. Anyway, it was about time for the toys to go.”
She hadn’t gotten rid of the collection, of course, but she’d moved a few choice products to her bedside table. For easier access, and all of that. Anyway, with Gabe in her life, she didn’t need the toys the same way. They were a record of where she had been, but they weren’t the map of where she was going now.
“Trust me, I think you spared the rest of my friends. Believe it or not, the Mommy and Me group Aderyn joined isn’t so big on having a phallic collection on display.”
“Who’s not big on phalluses? And maybe they should be.” Emma smiled, entering the room and placing her hands on the back of Bex’s chair.
“You are still so proud of winning the design competition, aren’t you?” Bex grumbled.
Emma gave a half-curtsy and dr
opped into the chair next to Sam. “I’m sorry, did you hear your brother complain?”
No one had expected Emma’s toy design to sweep the competition at work, but they especially hadn’t expected her to donate half the prize money to Sam and Aderyn’s baby fund. “I’m his friend, too,” Emma had reminded her.
Yeah, she really was.
Even better, Bex’s year-end bonus from Jeremy had more than made up for the money she’d lost out on by judging the competition. More adoption and college fund money for everyone.
Sam pointed his beer at Emma now. “You certainly helped buy a lot of diapers. This kid pees every ten minutes.”
Emma lifted her eyebrows. “Oh, so you mean that bought you enough to last a week,” she teased.
“Something like that.”
Bex’s heart soared, surrounded here by her family and friends on this beautiful day. Gabe appeared in the doorway of the dining room and leaned his hip against the doorframe. Just like every time she saw her boyfriend, her heart skipped. But it wasn’t fear in her chest anymore. Just excitement for the things to come.
“Bex, can I borrow you in the kitchen a minute?” he asked.
“A cake emergency?”
He smiled, and his eyes pulled her in. “Something like that.”
She followed Gabe into the kitchen, where trays of party food had spilled onto the counters—a hand-arranged charcuterie board for the adults next to a display of rice puffs and Goldfish crackers for the kids. Her life was this contrast now—the old and the new, the refined and the mess. She wouldn’t have it any other way.
“So what’s up?” Bex asked.
Gabe gestured at the dessert behind him, a half sheet cake with the words “Gotcha” and today’s date frosted in blue buttercream. He’d stayed up late last night to bake the thing, spending a very memorable thirty minutes buried deep inside Bex while the cake was in the oven. You couldn’t blame her for jumping on him. Apparently, the man could bake. And he liked to bake shirtless. Really, there wasn’t a downside.
“It looks beautiful,” she said.
“I’m thinking we might need some candles,” Gabe said. “Where do you keep yours?”
Bex crossed the kitchen and reached for the drawer where she stored her baking supplies. She, too, had an affinity for decorating edible things. You got to eat the results. What could be better?
She pulled the handle, and the box of candles slid toward the front of the drawer, along with a small, square box. She hadn’t put that there.
Bex froze, then reached for the box with trembling fingers. “What’s this?”
Gabe walked toward her and pressed a kiss to her temple. He wrapped an arm around her waist, and from the look on his face, so filled with love and devotion, she knew. “You can open that now, or you can wait,” he said, his voice steady. “I don’t want to take away from Sam and Dare and Weston’s day.”
Tears filled her eyes. “You can’t,” she whispered. “Joy breeds more joy. Didn’t you teach me that?”
He nodded, and a slow smile spread across his face that caught in Bex’s chest and lit her world on fire. “Well, in that case, open the box.”
She lifted the lid with shaking fingers and gasped at the ring set into the dark velvet. A piece of rose gold from either end of the delicate band reached toward a center cushion-cut diamond and held the stone like a heart between two hands.
“Maybe this can be our Gotcha Day, too,” Gabe said. He stroked the back of her neck with strong fingers and looked at her with expectant eyes.
“What are you saying?”
Gabe smiled now, his whole heart on his face. “You’re my family, Rebecca Kingsley, and you’re my home. I want you to be my wife. I want to love you today and every day, for the rest of our lives. Will you marry me?”
Bex launched herself into Gabe’s arms and found his mouth. He was her home, her heart. “Of course I will, ace. I love you.” She smiled against his lips. They were going to build a future together, one day at a time. “I gotcha back.”
THE END
Read Emma’s story in His Invitation!
Coming Next
From Tanya Gallagher
His Invitation (X Enterprises Book Three)
Rule # 1: Don’t fall for your roommate.
Emma Harrington is X Enterprises’ Quality Control Manager by day and an excellent matchmaker by night. She’s so good at matchmaking, in fact, that her roommate winds up pregnant, forcing Emma to search for a new apartment. When sexy Deacon Whistler opens the door to apartment 11A with a dangerous grin, he isn’t just flying his red flags, he’s hosting the damn Bad Idea Parade. But taking the short-term lease in a fully-furnished apartment means Emma can buy herself a little time in a safe space while she figures out her next move. What she doesn’t count on is her constant bickering with Deacon—whose aversion to wearing shirts in the house makes him impossible to ignore—or her attraction to him.
Deacon Whistler has spent the last five years of his life living the Las Vegas dream. As a tequila brand ambassador, he’s the life of every party, and he knows damn well how to continue the afterparty back in his bed. But when Emma accepts his invitation to move in, she won’t put up with his womanizing ways. She’s a ball of sass wrapped in the tightest yoga pants known to man, and Deacon can’t get her out of his mind. Somehow no other woman can quite compare to Emma, but can Deacon be the safety net she needs, or will his dark past prevent them from the future they both deserve?
Read His Invitation!
Books by Tanya Gallagher
A Slippery Slope
His Distraction (X Enterprises Book One)
His Inspiration (X Enterprises Book Two)
His Invitation (X Enterprises Book Three)
Your Opinion Matters
Thank you so much for reading His Inspiration! This story was a blast to write, and I hope you loved reading it. If you enjoyed spending time with Bex and Gabe, please consider leaving a review wherever you purchased this book. Reviews help more readers find the X Enterprises series so the sexy fun can continue!
I also love to hear from my readers and think you are just the best. If you join my mailing list, you’ll get sneak peeks at future books and be the first to know about new releases.
Join the fun at tanyagallagherbooks.com!
Acknowledgments
I wrote His Inspiration on a balcony in Hawaii overlooking the Pacific Ocean, and I have to say that writing a love story when you’re surrounded by love and relaxation makes it so much more fun. That being said, creating a finished book is one heck of a process, and I’m grateful for the many people who helped this book come together.
To my readers - You’re just the loveliest. And have I mentioned your hair today is looking fierce? In all seriousness, thanks for being here with me, and for reading the X Enterprises series. I’m so happy I get to share these stories with you!
To Jenny - Where do I start? Your support, encouragement, and friendship mean the world to me, and I’m forever grateful we met. Thanks for being on this wild ride with me, and for not blinking when I threw in some curveballs.
To Jess - Thanks for letting me pick your brain about a million things Vegas. Your insights and suggestions helped make this book so much richer, and I appreciate every detail.
To Sally - I’m so glad for the workshop that brought us closer together. Your thoughtful comments made this book stronger, but more importantly, your cheering and friendship have made my world a happier place.
To Ian and Lily - You guys are my inspiration. Thanks for the trip to Hawaii where this book was born, and for laughing along with me when things took a turn. I love you.
To my ARC team - You are such rockstars, and I’m so thankful for your support and help launching this book. Seriously, you are amazing, and I’m so glad to have met you.
About the Author
Tanya Gallagher is the Seattle-based author of contemporary New Adult and Adult romances about smart, strong women and the sexy men who
love them. She traded pencil skirts in the boardroom for stories in the bedroom and hasn't looked back since. You can find her traveling the world in search of beautiful scenery and delicious cake, and at penchantforpleasure.com, where she happens to sell one of the most popular brands of personal lubricant for your naughty bits. True story.
Let’s Hang Out
Website: www.tanyagallagherbooks.com
Instagram: tanyagallagherbooks
Twitter: TGallagherBooks
Facebook: tanyagallagherbooks
His Inspiration Page 20
