Page 128 of Honor

“I’ll move in on one condition,” she whispers. “Or maybe two, or three, or it could be twenty conditions.”

I bark out a laugh. “Name them all.”

“Stop sending me on scavenger hunts, Mr. Hunt.” She grins with a spark in her eyes. “If you’d let me use a delivery service for most of those things, I’d have more time to take care of your needs in the office.”

I trace a line of kisses up the side of her neck. “What needs?”

“Blow jobs in the office for one.”

“Fuck this wedding. Let’s go to work now.”

That earns me a playful slap on the shoulder, followed by a deep kiss on my mouth. When we part, Evie steps back to stare at me. “They’re going to cut the cake soon. Then it’s the first dance, and then…”

“Then I’ll take you home,” I interrupt her. “I’ll get you out of this dress, rip your panties off, and spend the rest of the night banging you until you have so many Os you lose track.”

“Yes to all of that.” She circles her finger in front of my face. “But let’s say we’ll fuck until I come all over your cock.”

I harden immediately, desperate to touch as much of her as I can as quickly as I can. “Evie,” I rasp. “Please.”

“Evie!” another voice calls out. It’s feminine and very familiar. “I need my maid of honor.”

“Duty calls.” She inches her hand down my shirt until it grazes my belt. “Lottie needs me.”

“She’ll never need you as much as I do,” I bite out while taking a ragged breath. “I’ll need you forever. I’ll need you endlessly until the day I die.”

“We’re going to have such an amazing life, Reid.” She looks deep into my eyes. “I’ll meet you on the dance floor soon.”

“Soon,” I say, wishing that meant I’d have my hands on her again less than a minute from now. “I’ll meet you there soon.”

EPILOGUE

Evie

Four Months Later

I smileas Reid carries me into our home. I feel like a bride, although I’m not. At least not yet. We’ve talked about marriage a few times since I moved into his apartment, but the renovations on this house have monopolized most of our discussions.

We’ve made every decision regarding the house together, from the color of the kitchen cabinets to the finish on the immaculate original hardwood floors hidden beneath the worn carpeting.

Reid has looked to me for guidance to help him navigate cleaning out each room in the house. We saved many things belonging to his grandparents. I sat with Reid as he looked through a cardboard box we found in the closet of his grandparents’ bedroom. The words “our angel” were scribbled across it in black marker. It contained a treasure trove of itemsthat once belonged to Reid’s mom. School pictures, report cards, and a note she had written to Reid on the day he started kindergarten were just a few of the things that we both cried over. We saved everything in that box and so many more things.

Everything we didn’t have room for is now at his apartment. He’s not ready to sell it even though we agreed to live in Queens. He jokingly said that one of our kids might want to live in Manhattan one day. Maybe they will. We know we want kids, and the time will come when it feels right to start a family. For now, we’re focused on each other.

“I can’t believe this will be our first night here,” I say as he carefully places me down on my feet. “We’re actually going to sleep in our house.”

“In our bed,” he reminds me since we purchased a new mattress and bedframe. The headboard was handmade by a friend of Kevin’s. It’s wooden, and the carvings on it depict a pattern we first noticed on a blanket that was still on the bed Reid slept in as a boy. The beautiful abstract lines of the headboard’s design are a reminder of something Reid loved as a child.

Many small details like that have made this house our home.

“I can’t believe I can finally ask you to marry me.”

My mouth falls open. “What?”

His hand disappears into the front pocket of his jeans. He yanks out a small black jewelry box. “Milt didn’t have the skill set to create the ring I wanted, so he sent me to Whispers of Grace. The owner, Ivy, worked some serious magic for us.”

I skim a hand over the pink sweatshirt I’m wearing. When I was a little girl, I always imagined that my proposal would take place in a spot that held deep meaning to me. I saw myself wearing a beautiful dress with full makeup on and my hair perfectly styled.

As I stand here in faded jeans with my hair in a ponytail and only a touch of red lipstick as makeup, I realize the only thing that really matters is the man in front of me.

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