Page 88 of Dreams and Desires

Zade

The train to Silverton rattles along the tracks, the rhythmic clanking of steel against steel a constant, soothing background noise. Outside, the scenery is a blur of green and blue, but I’m not paying much attention to it. Instead, I’m sitting across from Juniper, who’s curled up with a book in her lap. Not just any book—oh no, this is the kind of trashy romance novel that I’d usually scoff at. The cover alone is enough to make you roll your eyes: a shirtless guy with abs has his arm wrapped around a swooning damsel who looks like she’s about to faint from sheer lust.

Juniper’s voice, however, is the real killer. She’s reading it out loud, and I’m hooked. “And then,” she reads, her voice dripping with faux drama, “the Duke leaned in, his breath hot against her neck. ‘I’ve wanted you since the moment I first saw you,’ he murmured. ‘You’re mine, and I’ll never let you go.’“

I raise an eyebrow, pretending to be unimpressed. “This is garbage,” I mutter, leaning back in my seat and crossing my arms. “Absolute trash. I mean, come on, who talks like that?”

Juniper doesn’t miss a beat. “Oh, shut up, Zade. You’re loving every minute of it.”

I scoff, but there’s a smirk tugging at the corners of my mouth. “Come on. This isn’t literature, Juniper. It’s…it’s porn for bored housewives.”

She laughs, the sound light and teasing. “It’s not porn. It’s art. Smutty, ridiculous art.”

“Art, huh?” I tilt my head, feigning deep thought. “So, by your logic, if I write a steamy novel about, say, a rugged, devilishly handsome business mogul, who uses sarcasm as a defense mechanism and falls for a small town girl, will that be art too?”

She grins, flipping to the next page. “Depends. Does he have a tragic backstory and a secret weakness for baked goods?”

“Obviously,” I deadpan. “He’s a complex character.”

“Well then,” she says, her eyes twinkling with amusement, “I’d say you’re on your way to a bestseller.”

“Fantastic,” I reply, leaning forward. “And you’ll be my muse, of course. You know, to make sure I get all the steamy details right.”

She rolls her eyes but doesn’t hide the blush creeping up her neck. “You’re a real handful. You know that?”

“I’ve been told that a lot by my girlfriend,” I say, sliding closer to her on the seat. “But, I know she loves me just as I am.”

She doesn’t argue. Instead, she continues reading, and damn it if I’m not hanging on every word. The Duke and his conveniently voluptuous love interest are tangled in some kind of torrid affair involving secret rendezvous and forbidden love, and I’m all in.

“You know,” I say, cutting her off mid-sentence, “for a guy who supposedly spends all his time rescuing damsels and maintaining his estate, this Duke sure has a lot of free time for… extracurricular activities.”

Juniper snorts, trying and failing to suppress her laughter. “It’s fiction, Zade. You’re not supposed to overanalyze it.”

“Oh, but that’s where you’re wrong,” I retort, a mischievous grin spreading across my face. “I’m a man of many talents, and overanalyzing romance novels is just one of them.”

She sets the book down, her eyes narrowing playfully. “Will you please let me read?” she asks.

“No!” I blurt, and lean in to kiss her, slow and deep, my hand sliding around the back of her neck. She responds instantly, her arms wrapping around my shoulders, pulling me closer until there’s no space between us at all.

I pull back just enough to catch my breath, resting my forehead against hers. “You know,” I murmur, “I never thought I’d be the kind of guy who listens to smutty novels on a train and kisses the girl of his dreams, but here we are.”

She laughs softly, her breath warm against my lips. “You always keep me guessing, don’t you?”

“Always,” I agree, brushing my thumb across her cheek. “And I’ve got one more for you.”

Her eyes flicker with curiosity. “Oh?”

I reach into my pocket, my fingers closing around the small velvet box that’s been burning a hole there for days. I hadn’t planned on doing this here, on a train, with a smutty romance novel as our witness, but hell, it feels right. Perfect, even. I pull the box out, flipping it open to reveal the ring inside—a simple, elegant piece that somehow seems to sparkle more because of her.

“Juniper,” I say, my voice steady despite the storm of emotions inside me, “will you marry me?”

Her eyes widen, her breath catching in her throat. For a second, she just stares at me, and I start to wonder if I’ve finally pushed her too far, but then she lets out a shaky laugh, nodding frantically.

“Okaaayyyy,” she breathes out, a smile breaking across her face. “Yes, Zade. Yes.”

I slide the ring onto her finger, my hands surprisingly steady. And just like that, the storm inside me calms, replaced by a warmth that spreads through my chest and settles deep in my bones.

“You know,” I say, leaning in close, my lips brushing against hers, “this officially means you're stuck with the King of Grump and Sass forever.”

---