Page 160 of The Persistence of Thornes
“You’re going to be my husband,” she says as we reach my car.
I cage her in against the passenger side, one hand on the frame on either side of her head. “And you’re going to be my wife.”
She bites her lip, dark eyes flashing. “Say it again.”
Grinning, I lean down until my lips brush her ear. “Wife.”
She shivers, and not because of the cold. “We need to tell my brothers. I want them to know. To be there.”
“Of course.” I straighten and nod. Pretty sure I’d agree to anything she says right now.
“And I want to get rings.” She turns, eyeing my left hand where it’s pressed to the side of the car.
I can’t stop smiling, and fuck, my face already hurts. “You want the whole world to know I belong to you?”
“Yes.” She tips her face up, shoulders back.
“I love that.” I brush my lips over her soft cheek. “I love when you’re possessive.”
She rolls her eyes. “I’m not possessive. I’m…” She huffs out a breath. “Okay, maybe I am. A little.” She pokes my chest. “I also want a dress. Not a wedding dress, but something that makes me feel pretty.”
“We can do that.” She can wear whatever the fuck she wants. With any luck, I’ll convince her to do a real wedding one day. For now, I’ll take what I can get. At the end of the day, all I want is her. Calling Halle my wife will be the greatest pleasure of my existence.
“Why do I feel like I could ask you for a car, and you’d say yes?”
“Because”—I grin, taking her cheeks in my hands—“if you haven’t figured it out yet, baby, I’m incapable of saying no to you.”
“You’re really too good for me, Caleb,” she says softly.
“No, I’m not.” I stroke my thumbs over her smooth cheeks. “You’ve just never met anyone who put you first before.”
That’s the thing she doesn’t realize. I’m nothing special, but I’m willing to do whatever it takes for the people I love.
“Let’s go find you a dress, yeah?” I pull away and tug her gently so I can open the car door.
She nods, an excited smile taking over her face before she can stop it.
One day, maybe she’ll learn that she doesn’t need to hide her happiness. That it’s okay to find joy in things.
“You don’t have to stick with me,” she says when we enter through the sliding doors and the soft mall music permeates the air around us. “I know most guys aren’t into clothes shopping.”
“I don’t mind.” I lace my fingers with hers and slide my other hand into my pocket. “I plan to stay with you unless you want me to be surprised by what you pick.”
Her lips quirk up in amusement, making me curious about what she’s thinking. In the end, I don’t press her.
The first shop we pop into gets an immediate no from her.
The next is better, but she doesn’t find anything worth trying on.
“We’ll check a few more places, and if I don’t find what I’m looking for, we can come back,” she says, dragging me from the store.
I like that she hasn’t dropped my hand yet. That she likes touching me as much as I like touching her.
When we step into the third shop, her eyes light up. In minutes, she’s got several dresses draped over her arm, all ranging from true white to ivory to even a pastel blue option.
“Something blue,” she says when I keep staring at it.
I smile, surprised to hear her say something so traditional.
