I’m going to have a baby with Christopher. I’m going to marry him.
God, he’s in every memory I have, and now he’ll be in every dream. My gaze turns to him, the man that’s always been by my side. The one I always chose above all others.
The only one I’ve ever loved.
CHRISTOPHER
I’m taking Dash out for dinner to her favorite restaurant so we can celebrate our engagement.
Seated at a table in the back where we’ll have privacy, my eyes keep going to her left hand.
Seeing my ring on her finger fills me with pride and love.
I order a bottle of the best champagne, and when we each have a glass, I reach across the table for her hand. Brushing my thumb over the ring, I say, “We’re doing this all backward but Dash Marcelle West, will you marry me?”
She begins to laugh while nodding. “Yes.”
“I’m sorry it wasn’t more romantic,” I murmur. “I’ll make up for it with the wedding.” Which reminds me. Taking my wallet out, I remove one of the credit cards and slide it over the table to Dash. “Once you start planning the wedding, just charge everything to that card. Also, anything you need and household items.”
Dash frowns at it. “You’re aware I have money as well, right?”
“Well aware,” I chuckle. “Let me do this for you. It’s important to me.”
“Okay.” Dash tucks the card in her clutch, then asks, “When are we telling our parents?”
I swallow the sip of champagne I took, then answer, “Tomorrow? Then afterward, we can move your personal belongings over to the penthouse.”
“Sounds good.”
Enjoying the champagne, we stare at each other and seeing Dash happy means everything to me.
This is how I want to see her every day for the rest of our lives. She deserves nothing less.
“What are you thinking?” she asks, her lips curving in a soft smile.
“How lucky I am to be the one who makes you happy,” I answer honestly.
Her lips curve more. “To think how much everything has changed the past week. It feels a little surreal.”
“No regrets?” I ask.
She shakes her head, her blonde hair falling softly over her shoulders. “None. You’re, Mr. Right.”
I let out a chuckle, then tease her, “Glad you finally realized that.”
She tilts her head. “Finally? What does that mean?”
“I would’ve married you five years ago. I only waited because you weren’t ready yet,” I admit.
A slight frown forms between her brows. “I really thought you were joking back then. If I knew you were serious, it would’ve changed things.”
This time it’s my turn to frown as I lean forward. “What are you saying?”
Her eyes narrow slightly, and her lips curve into a seductive smile. “It’s been a constant battle to not fall in love with you.”
“So we’ve wasted five years,” I mutter.
“Basically,” she agrees.
Sitting back in the chair, I shake my head. “New deal.”
“Let’s hear it.”
My eyes lock with hers. “Open line of communication from here on out. We don’t assume anything.”
“Deal,” she says as she picks up a menu.
Once we’ve placed our orders, Dash begins to twirl the ring on her finger with her thumb. She leans forward and whispers, “Now that we’re engaged and I’m moving in with you, how are we going to approach having sex?”
I let out a silent burst of laughter. “We’re definitely not going to approach it. When you’re ready, it will happen. Leave that to me.”
She stares at me for a moment, then she submits. “Okay.”
The corner of my mouth curves up with satisfaction. Dash doesn’t know it yet, but by the time I’m done with her, she’ll be begging me to fuck her.
God, this is going to be so much fun.
Her eyes keep flitting to mine, then she says, “You look predatory. Should I be worried?”
Slowly, I shake my head. “Not at all.”
Our food comes, and while enjoying the meal, we discuss what Dash wants to move to the penthouse.
“What do I do with the rest of the stuff?” she asks.
“Either put it in storage or sell it,” I answer. “You could also donate it.” She scrunches her nose, and it has me saying, “Let me deal with it. Okay?”
Her mouth instantly curves up. “I’d appreciate that.”
“I can handle the renting out of the apartment as well,” I offer.
Dash’s features soften with something akin to love. “You’re really good at being a husband.”
“I had a good example,” I chuckle.
“Remind me to thank your father,” she laughs.
When we’re done with our meal, and I’ve paid, I take hold of Dash’s hand, and linking our fingers, we walk out of the restaurant.
A man almost bumps into us outside the exit, and as he steps back and my eyes focus on him, the blood chills in my veins.
His gaze locks on Dash before they snap to me. “Dash, Christopher.”
“Josh,” I mutter. I tug Dash closer to me as his eyes turn back to her.