Page 78 of Sizzling Desire

It’s ours.

And I’ll be damned if I let it slip away.

Epilogue - Grace

I should’ve known Kane would pull something like this.

Ishouldhave seen it coming.

But no, I made the tragic mistake of believing that today—the day I am actively bringing his child into the world—would be the one day he’d drop the wholemarry me or elseroutine.

Clearly, I overestimated his ability to not be a stubborn jackass.

Because right now, as I sit in the godforsaken passenger seat of Kane’s freaking minivan, legs spread, water broken, contractions hitting like a damn freight train—he won’t start the damn thing.

No. Instead, my ridiculous excuse for a boyfriend—who I love, damn it, but who is still an absolute asshat—is sitting there, one hand on the steering wheel, the other resting on his knee, looking at me like he has all the time in the world.

"Kane. Start the damn van," I grit out, clutching my stomach as another contraction ripples through me, making me white-knuckle the armrest.

He shakes his head, completely unbothered. "Not until you say yes."

I gape at him. "Are you—have you lost your ever-loving mind?!"

He lifts a brow, as if I’m the unreasonable one in this scenario. "Babe, I’ve been asking you to marry me for seven months." He taps the wheel casually, like we’re not currently on a countdown to me giving birth in this godforsaken van. "You’ve shot me down every time."

"I was going to say yes!" I shout, because holy hell, another contraction is building, and I am not about to die in a minivan.

He squints at me, unconvinced. "When exactly?"

"The next time you asked!"

"Well, now's the next time," he says smoothly.

I glare at him. "You do not deserve my yes right now!"

Kane just grins, and oh, if I wasn’t currently trying tonotdeliver a baby in a minivan, I would strangle him.

Instead, another contraction hits, and my entire body goes rigid. "Oh, god?—"

"Okay, okay, babe, breathe," Kane soothes, finally—finally—doing something useful by gripping my hand. "Like in class, remember? In through the nose, out through the mouth."

I don’t want to breathe. I want to murder him.

"In through the nose, out through the mouth,Gracie," he says again, rubbing slow, firm circles on my back.

"Shut up," I hiss, sucking in a stilted breath and exhaling through my teeth. "I hate you."

He laughs—this asshole laughs. "You love me."

I open my mouth to argue, but then—then he does the thing.

The thing where his voice drops low, where his hand grips mine just a little bit tighter, where his dark eyes go soft in a way that turns me to absolute mush.

"I love you, Gracie," he says, and it’s not cocky or teasing this time. It’s real. Raw.

Like he’s laying every single part of himself out in front of me, offering me everything.

And damn it.

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