“Um, what’s going on, Walker?”
I didn’t realize my hands were cold until the warmth of his grip enveloped mine. I was nervous, unaccountably so.
“You said you’d marry me,” he began in that slow, gravelly drawl that never failed to send heat spinning like fire through my veins. It didn’t matter that it had been two years since I finally fessed up to my feelings for Walker. It didn’t matter that he asked me to marry him almost a year ago now. It didn’t matter that I saw him every day. His effect on me remained potent. Nothing faded. Instead of time dulling the force of my reaction to him, it seemed to sharpen it.
“I did. See?” Freeing my left hand, I held it up and wiggled my fingers.
Walker had gotten me a gorgeous engagement ring set with an opal, which happened to be my favorite stone.
He dipped his head, leaning his forehead against mine. “I do see. But you keep putting off the actual wedding. So, I decided to make it happen. You can call it off, though.”
He lifted his head and watched me quietly. I bit my lip, staring at him and feeling my cheeks get hot. “I don’t want to call it off. I just hate”—I paused, waving in the air randomly—“things where lots of people are paying attention to me,” I explained.
“I know. That’s exactly why we’re having it here where it’s just the people that matter. Everyone will be here in fifteen minutes. Your parents and your brother, Rylie, my mom, and our friends here. If you want to run away, go ahead. No one is allowed to give you any hell about it.”
I stared into his smoky eyes and my heart went thump, thump, thump, thump. I couldn’t believe he’d planned this. Trust was something that was still hard for me. Oh, I trusted Walker. Completely. But I didn’t quite trust that I deserved him.
I looked down at my jeans and white blouse before bringing my eyes back to his. “I don’t have a wedding dress.”
“I don’t care. I just love you, and I want to make it official.”
So it was that Walker and I got married in a tiny chapel looking out over Stolen Hearts Valley. It was the kind of weather someone who put a lot of work into planning a wedding would’ve paid money for—clear skies with puffy clouds, and a soft breeze on a warm spring day.
I’d been spared all the planning. With Walker orchestrating it, our friends showed up to celebrate with us. Hours later, I held a glass of champagne up and tapped it against Walker’s. “To us,” he said.
Then, he swept me into a kiss that shouldn’t have been public.
Walker
Another two years later, or thereabouts
Leaning down, I grazed my teeth lightly over one of Jade’s nipples. It puckered tightly under my mouth, and she let out a sharp cry.
“Please, Walker.” She gasped as she bucked her hips against me. “Hurry,” she urged, curling her legs around my hips.
The slick tease of her core against the underside of my cock proved to be too much for my control. On the heels of another breath, I drew back and sheathed myself in her channel, savoring her silky, slick, and clenching fit.
“I don’t wanna rush,” I murmured as I lifted my head and opened my eyes.
Jade’s dark hair was spread out across the pillows, and her eyes flashed with desire. “We have twins. All we get are quickies,” she said with a sly grin as she arched into me.
Within minutes, my release was building, and I watched through heavy eyes as she flew apart.
Jade was the touchstone in my world. She was still feisty, she still swore too much, and it would always take a bit for her to let go. As she shattered, my own release followed swiftly before I collapsed against her and rolled us over so my weight didn’t crush her.
I thought—silly me—that we might have a few stolen moments. We got maybe two. But they were the best moments. With Jade warm and soft as she rested against me, her skin dewy from our rushed coupling, all felt perfectly right with the world.
But then, it always did when I was with Jade like this—our defenses gone, and nothing but the deep intimacy that bound us tighter and tighter together over time. For a man who once wasn’t so sure that I’d ever fall in love, Jade had turned me into the worst sap of all.
My breath was just returning to normal when a thin cry came through the baby monitor on the nightstand beside our bed. Jade laughed softly against my shoulder, the feel of her breath tickling my skin slightly.
“Well, that took longer than I thought,” she said when she lifted her head, resting her chin on her hand directly above my heart.
I felt my lips kick into a smile. I lifted my hand to smooth it over her hair. “That might’ve been almost two whole minutes.”
There was another cry. “There goes Dave” she commented.
Our twins were a handful. When Jade first got pregnant three months after we got married, I’d been a bundle of anxiety. Then, we found out we were having twins. Everything felt heightened when there were two. While twins were more work, logistically speaking, we’d learned they often comforted each other. That was a secret parents of twins often didn’t share. We waited, both of us turning to look at the monitor. Another cry from Dave came before Rachel made a cooing sound, and then they were giggling. At nine months old, they were a handful, but I wouldn’t change anything for a second. We’d named our boy after my friend Dave. I had faith our Dave would live up to Dave’s memory.
Jade smiled. I squeezed her bottom. At
