He wanted to step closer and kiss Liam on his lovely lips, right there, in front of Terlaine and everyone else—the urge he’d been forced to suppress when he was posing as Liam’s brother.
“You—you’re…”
Terlaine’s choked-out words made him rip his gaze away from Liam and look at the other alpha.
He was gaping at Jon.
So that answered the question of whether the Division had used a memory-lock on Terlaine or not. It seemed they hadn’t. He was probably just under NDA.
“Jonathan Marsden, the Earl of Selwyn,” he said politely, as if he weren’t the same man who had so rudely rejected Terlaine’s marriage proposal and practically kicked him out of the house a few months ago. “Liam’s fiancé.” It was incredibly satisfying to say that after having to suppress the overwhelming urge to tell Terlaine that Liam was his months ago.
Turning away from Terlaine’s stunned stare, he found himself on the receiving end of Liam’s exasperated look.
Liam took Jon’s hand and led him away. “Was that posturing really necessary?” he whispered, glancing back at his unlucky suitor.
Jon snorted, interlacing their fingers and bringing them to his mouth. “Of course not. But I wanted do it months ago. Sometimes you have to indulge yourself.”
Liam shot him another exasperated look, but his cheeks were a little flushed now, that adoring look returning to his eyes. Fuck, he was so damn endearing, especially when he tried to look composed for the sake of their audience—and utterly failed, smiling charmingly at him. Jon wanted to kiss him, suck on his full bottom lip and make him tremble.
“Stop telling people that we’re engaged without properly proposing to me first,” Liam said. “It’s very off-putting.”
Smiling wryly, Jon squeezed his fingers, and murmured quietly, “I basically proposed to you the first time I helped you through your heat. I didn’t use protection. You didn’t really think I’d be so irresponsible?” He had been, in fact, that irresponsible, but it was neither here nor there.
Liam blinked. “Oh,” he said softly, that endearing blush appearing on his cheekbones again. Then, he glared. “Don’t be ridiculous. It doesn’t count.”
Jon lost the battle with himself: he leaned in and pecked the corner of that full, scowling mouth.
“Jon!” Liam hissed, his blush deepening. “Everyone’s looking at us!”
“How do you know that?” Jon said with a teasing grin, tapping him on the nose. “You haven’t looked away from me.”
Liam glowered at him. “I can make an educated guess,” he said primly, still not looking away from him.
It was incredibly heady. And fuck, Jon could absolutely relate. He had trouble tearing his gaze away, too.
“We’re holding hands, kitten,” he said softly, stroking Liam’s fingers. “In the eyes of society, it’s practically as scandalous.”
“Not nearly as scandalous,” Liam said, glancing around and moving closer to Jon. “Told you—everyone is looking at us. At least Michael has left already.”
Jon shrugged, unconcerned. A quick look confirmed that everyone was indeed gawking, the murmurs around them growing more evident. Jon wondered if they even recognized him. Unlikely. He hadn’t attended society gatherings in a decade—hadn’t had a reason, considering that he didn’t have a family to nag him into socializing. “They’ll find out that you’ll be marrying me soon enough, anyway.”
“I’m still waiting for my proposal!” Liam shot him the cutest glare, that he utterly ruined with a laugh. “You’re horrible, and I hate you.”
Jon stared at him, drinking him in. He hadn’t seen Liam laugh nearly often enough. Until now, Jon had never seen him truly, genuinely happy without the happiness being tainted by guilt and shame.
He’d never looked more beautiful. Liam always looked beautiful, but happiness was a good look on him. He was so beautiful right now with his bright eyes and a blinding smile, it was an effort to stand there and not pull him into his arms.
“I love you,” he heard himself say. “Marry me.”
Liam’s smile froze on his lips. His expression became a little pinched and tight. “You have the worst fucking timing,” he ground out before closing the distance between them and kissing him.
The noise level of the ballroom rose drastically, but Jon didn’t give a fuck. They’d been courting scandal from the moment they’d met. This was nothing in comparison.
Pulling Liam close, Jon hugged him tightly and smiled.
Epilogue
The baby was red, wrinkly—and kind of ugly, to be honest.
Liam gave it a dubious look, still waiting for his omega instincts to wake up. Jules had said that he fell in love with his baby daughter at first sight. No such thing was happening to Liam.
A laugh snapped him out of his thoughts.
“You look like you’re holding a bomb,” his husband said, smiling at him from where he was leaning against the doorway.
Liam glared at him, but he couldn’t help grinning. He missed him. He hadn’t seen him in what felt like forever. Ten hours.