“Fine,” she said. “I support you. I’m in.”
“So you aren’t going to be a persnickety brat?”
A small smile quirked her lips upward. “I didn’t say that. I said I would support you. But as a younger sister, I feel the need to remind you that being a persnickety brat is sometimes part of my support.”
He shot Isaiah a baleful look. “I suppose you’re still going to be an asshole?”
“Obviously.”
Joshua smiled then. Because that was the best he was going to get from his siblings. But it was a step toward making sure Danielle felt like she had a place in the family, rather than feeling like an outsider.
And if he wanted that with an intensity that wasn’t strictly normal or healthy, he would ignore that. He had never pretended to be normal or healthy. He wasn’t going to start now.
* * *
Danielle was getting fluttery waiting for Joshua to come home. The anticipation was a strange feeling. It had been a long time since she’d looked forward to someone coming home. She remembered being young, when it was hard to be alone. But she hadn’t exactly wished for her mother to come home, because she knew that when her mother arrived, she would be drunk. And Danielle would be tasked with managing her in some way.
That was the story of her life. Not being alone meant taking care of somebody. Being alone meant isolation, but at least she had time to herself.
But Joshua wasn’t like that. Being with him didn’t mean she had to manage him.
She thought of their time together in the barn, and the memory made her shiver. She had gone to bed in her own room last night, and he hadn’t made any move toward her since his proposal. She had a feeling his hesitation had something to do with her inexperience.
But she was ready for him again. Ready for more.
She shook her hands out, feeling jittery. And a little scared.
It was so easy to want him. To dream about him coming home, how she would embrace him, kiss him. And maybe even learn to cook, so she could make him dinner. Learn to do something other than warm up Pop-Tarts.
Although, he liked Pop-Tarts, and so did she.
Maybe they should have Pop-Tarts at their wedding. That was the kind of thing couples did. Incorporate the cute foundations of their relationships into their wedding ceremonies.
She made a small sound that was halfway between a whimper and a growl. She was getting loopy about him. About a guy. Which she had promised herself she would never do. But it was hard not to get loopy. He had offered her support, a family for Riley, a house to live in. He had become her lover, and then he had asked to become her husband.
And in those few short moments, her entire vision for the rest of her life had changed. It had become something so much warmer, so much more secure than she had ever imagined it could be. She just wasn’t strong enough to reject that vision.
Honestly, she didn’t know a woman who would be strong enough. Joshua was hot. And he was nice. Well, sometimes he was kind of a jerk, but mostly, at his core, he was nice and he had wonderful taste in breakfast food.
That seemed like as good a foundation for a marriage as any.
She heard the front door open and shut, and as it slammed, her heart lurched against her breastbone.
Joshua walked in looking so intensely handsome in a light blue button-up shirt, the sleeves pushed up his arms, that she wanted to swoon for the first time in her entire life.
“Do you think they can make a wedding cake out of Pop-Tarts?” She didn’t know why that was the first thing that came out of her mouth. Probably, it would have been better if she had said something about how she couldn’t wait to tear his clothes off.
But no. She had led with toaster pastry.
“I don’t know. But we’re getting married in two weeks, so if you can stack Pop-Tarts and call them a cake, I suppose it might save time and money.”
“I could probably do that. I promise that’s not all I thought about today, but for some reason it’s what came out of my mouth.”
“How about I keep your mouth busy for a while,” he said, his blue gaze getting sharp. He crossed the space between them, wrapping his arm around her waist and drawing her against him. And then he kissed her.
It was so deep, so warm, and she felt so...sheltered. Enveloped completely in his arms, in his strength. Who cared if she was lost in a fantasy right now? It would be the first time. She had never had the luxury of dreaming about men like him, or passion this intense.
It seemed right, only fair, that she have the fantasy. If only for a while. To have a moment where she actually dreamed about a wedding with cake. Where she fantasized about a man walking in the door and kissing her like this, wanting her like this.
“Is Janine here?” he asked, breaking the kiss just long enough to pose the question.
“No,” she said, barely managing to answer before he slammed his lips back down on hers.
Then she found herself being lifted and carried from the entryway into the living room, deposited on the couch. And somehow, as he set her down, he managed to raise her shirt up over her head.
She stared at him, dazed, while he divested himself of his own shirt. “You’re very good at this,” she said. “I assume you’ve had a lot of practice?”
He lifted an eyebrow, his hands going to his belt buckle. “Is this a conversation you want to have?”
She felt...bemused rather than jealous. “I don’t know. I’m just curious.”
“I got into a lot of trouble when I
