Page 23 of One More Night

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“Proud of yourself, aren’t you?” I tease him, jostling into his side. A smile takes over. The worries that I know will come can take a back seat for the moment. “A baby. I can’t believe we’re doing this again. Are you ready for the late-night feedings, diaper changes, cute smiles, the endless amount of snuggles, and all of the good that outweighs the bad?” Mace still has the pregnancy test in his hand, forearms propped on his bent knees. We’re both in comfortable clothes after working all day, him in a pair of gray sweatpants and nothing else. A move Von has taken up in the last few months, forgoing a shirt and preferring to just wear athletic shorts to bed or sweats like Mace. Though, the clothing usually comes off once we’re in bed, but Von doesn’t need to know that. I’m in one of his cotton shirts, worn-in and comfortable.

“Tyra, as long as I’m with you, I’m ready for everything. We’re going to have to make a few changes along the way, but the thought that you could potentially carry a baby girl, one who I pray like hell looks like you while also being scared shitless at the same time, I’m all fucking in.” Mace tosses the pregnancy test in the trash can, getting it in one shot when it would take me fifty tries from the position we’re sitting in. Men. Athleticism comes so easily to them, it seems.

“Good, because your baby mama’s ass is falling asleep sitting this way, and our bed is calling my name.” Mace stops me from getting up, moving so fast that I have no idea how he managed to place me on his lap until I’m straddling him, hand going to the side of my neck, thumb on my pulse, and eyes locked on mine.

“You’re more than my baby mama, as you put it. You’re my woman, the mother of our children, and one day soon, you’ll be my wife again.” Our mouths meet. I’m not sure who initiates it. All I know is that those words cause a yearning to settle deep inside me to be Mace’s wife again. And believe me, after going through one wedding plus a divorce, I swore up from ten ways to Sunday that I’d never do that again. My whole tune has changed since the moment Mace walked into the restaurant, unwilling to take no for an answer, and being the man he was before our divorce.

“Mace.” His lips leave mine and move to my neck, hands sliding beneath my shirt until my ass is in his hands and he kneads my cheeks, fingers moving dangerously close to my core, and I know it wouldn’t take much for Mace to have me falling apart.

“We’re going to bed. I’m going to show exactly how happy I am you’re carrying our child." He stands up to his full height, lightly jostling me as he does. My legs instantly wrap around his waist, excited for what I know is one of many nights I’ll be enjoying with the man who treats me like he’s got the whole world in the palms of his hands.

Epilogue

MACE

Four MonthsLater

“Mace, it’s beautiful.”We’re finally moved into the new house, which took longer than we hoped for, but neither of us was willing to settle on something we couldn’t see being our forever home, or at least until the kids are grown. Tyra is looking off into the distance on our back patio. Von is already making noise about a puppy. There’s no way that will happen while we wait for the baby to arrive. A girl. I hoped for it to happen at the same time I didn’t, knowing full well if some dick put my baby girl through what I put Tyra through, I’d be in jail for hurting the cocksucker. I got off lucky with her dad, and I’m thankful for that. It’s also why anytime he calls, I answer. If he has a legal question, it’s handled. Learned my lesson and know that staying in his good graces is something I’ll always do.

“Not as beautiful as you.” She’s standing at the gate on the back patio that leads to the pool, the only request I had so that we could all enjoy it together in the comfort of our own backyard without having to share it with others. Tyra’s wearing a cream-colored loose dress, and from behind, you can barely tell she’s five months pregnant. It’s when she turns around that her swollen belly tells everyone she’s carrying our child. Our house is modest in size. Unlike the eight-thousand-square-foot monstrosity I bought last time, this is nearly three thousand square feet with four bedrooms, three bathrooms, and an office. The kids’ bedrooms as well as my office are situated upstairs, the living area and our bedroom downstairs, which might be tricky once our little girl makes her grand entrance into the world a few months down the road.

“Turn around, siren.” The pool is behind her, the setting sun highlighting her body, and I’m here on one bended knee doing things differently this time.

“Oh my God, Mace.” Tyra’s hands lift to her mouth, eyes instantly wet with tears, and I haven’t said anything yet. Fuck, I haven’t even opened up the jewelry box. She knew it was coming, that it was only a matter of time until the time was right. I’m still not sure it is, but this is our first full night in our new home with all of the boxes unpacked and the furniture put together, and she’s up off her feet. A bone of contention during the whole process even though my parents, her parents, Celeste and Wylder, Nico and Journey, and Hendrix helped. Even Kingston stopped in for a minute. The moving was the easy part; it was the aftermath that took the longest.

“Tyra Ayala, make me the happiest man in the world. Will you marry me?” I ask her, different from last time when I growled her name, came deep inside her, and told her we were getting married. The ring I gave her last time is still in her jewelry box. That’s not the one I’m using today. While it’s a sentiment to our youth, it also comes with a past I’m not willing to bring into our future. I open the box, showing her the four-stone oval-cut platinum ring. A diamond for each of us—Tyra, Von, our daughter who we still haven’t named, neither of us settling yet, and me.

“Yes, always yes.” Tyra attempts to drop to her knees. Not fucking likely. I move with swiftness, rising to my feet, box in one hand, the other going to her neck, holding her while I kiss her with every ounce of love I have to give, knowing that things could have worked differently. Tyra could have slammed the door on rekindling the love we have for one another. A love that I’ll never take for granted again.


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Tags: Tory Baker Erotic