Page 18 of The Mountain Man's Second Chance Bride
Her body tenses slightly against mine. "And now?"
"Now I can't imagine settling for anything less." I turn to face her directly. "You've changed everything, Wynonna. How I see my future. What I want from it."
Her eyes widen. "Josiah?"
"I have something for you," I interrupt, reaching into my pocket. "But first, I need to tell you something."
She waits, breath visibly caught in her chest.
"When I first made you wait, it was partly out of anger, partly out of a desire to make sure this is real between us." I hold her gaze, needing her to understand. "I wanted to prove to us both that what we have isn't just physical. That it's deeper than that."
"I've been sure since the day I arrived," she says softly.
"I know. But I needed to be sure too." I take her hand, thumb stroking across her knuckles. "And now I am."
Her eyes shine with unshed tears as I shift to one knee before her, the small wooden box now open in my palm. Inside nestles a ring, my grandmother's, the silver band inlaid with small blue stones the color of mountain lakes.
"Wynonna Crow," I say, my voice steadier than the thundering of my heart would suggest. "Will you marry me? Build a life with me on this land? Create a legacy that will outlast us both?"
For one suspended moment, she stares at the ring, then at my face, her expression cycling through shock, joy, and amazement.
"Yes," she breathes, then louder, "Yes, Josiah. Yes."
I slide the ring onto her finger, relieved to find it fits reasonably well. Her hands frame my face as she pulls me into a kiss that tastes of salt and happiness.
When we break apart, her eyes gleam with mischief through her tears. "Does this mean we can finally, y’know?"
"Tomorrow," I interrupt, feeling a smile tug at my lips. "After the ceremony."
"Ceremony?" She pulls back, surprise evident on her face.
"I called ahead to the town hall yesterday," I admit. "Judge Wilson can marry us tomorrow morning, if that's not too soon for you."
A radiant smile breaks across her face. "It's not soon enough."
Her hands tug at my shirt, her intent unmistakable. "We're getting married tomorrow. Surely that's close enough to count."
I catch her wrists, bringing each palm to my lips in turn. "One more night. I want you as my wife, not just my fiancée, when I finally claim you completely."
"You're a stubborn, old-fashioned man, Josiah Stone," she sighs, but there's fondness beneath her frustration.
"And you're an impatient, determined woman," I counter, pulling her back against me. My hands slide beneath her shirt, finding warm skin and the rapid beat of her heart. "But I think I can keep you distracted until then."
Her breath catches as my fingers trace the underside of her breast through her bra. "That's not fair."
"All's fair in love and war, sweetheart," I murmur, my mouth finding the sensitive spot below her ear. "Let me take care of you one last time before you become my wife."
Her protest dies as my fingers slip inside her jeans, finding her already wet and ready. Her head falls back against my shoulder, eyes fluttering closed as I begin circling her clit with deliberate, measured strokes.
"Not fair," she gasps, hips rising to meet my touch. "You can't,oh!, you can't keep doing this to me."
"Doing what?" I ask innocently, sliding one finger inside her while continuing the circles with my thumb. "Making you feel good? Making you come so hard you see stars? What kind of fiancé would I be if I didn't take care of you?"
She moans as I add a second finger, her inner muscles clenching around the intrusion. "I want all of you," she manages, voice breaking as I increase the pace. "Not just your fingers, not just your mouth. I want your cock inside me, Josiah."
The explicit demand nearly breaks my resolve, my own arousal painfully evident against her back. "Tomorrow," I remind her, my voice rough with restraint. "After you're officially mine in every way."
"Promise?" she asks, vulnerability momentarily visible beneath the desire.
