Page 84 of Sing Me Home
“Let me pay you for it,” I said.
“No.” He pecked me on the mouth. “This is what we call a gift. I know you’re not used to your man pampering you but you need to get comfortable.” His lips brushed mine. “This is just the beginning.”
“But—”
He shut me up with another peck. “Please, let me love you,” his voice cracked.
I relaxed into him, our breath mingling together. “Okay,” I said softly, my chest so full, I thought it might burst. “Thank you.” I tapped the screen to look at our picture again. “I love it.”
“You’re welcome.” His expression shifted from confident to guarded. “You know I’m heading out on tour in a few weeks, right after the Spartan Race.” His eyes turned down, pleading. “Come with me?”
My fingertips traced over his stubble. “Like ride on the tour bus with you? Live off of Corn Nuts and Dr. Pepper?”
“And love.” He smiled and it did happy things to my heart. “Try every weird Buc-ees snack. Pull pranks on my dad. Make out when no one’s looking. Take naps together. Stay up till two a.m. writing songs.” The end of his nose tapped the end of mine. “Because we both know you can write.” He pressed a lingering kiss to my lips. “Dad already said we could hire you to be my Songwriting Consultant.”
I laughed, but it was soft, overwhelmed. My heart couldn’t quite keep up with him. But dang, it was trying. “I mean, I don’t want to be away from you for two months so … Yeah. I’ll come.”
He whooped.
I smiled. “Can I tell you something?” I smoothed his collar. “I think I know what I want to do with my life.”
“Really?” His eyes danced. “Besides being my wife?” he said like it was already settled.
Heat crept up my neck. “Yes, besides being your wife. In five years.”
“Five months,” he countered.
“Five years,” I repeated.
His eyes pinned me in place, all heat and hunger and unspoken want. “Five weeks.”
“Cash.” A frustrated hum vibrated in my chest. “I?—”
“Five days.” There was no teasing in his tone. “Five hours.” Doubtless, he’d marry me in five minutes if I’d let him. His hands found mine, fingers lacing together. “You’re my forever, Charlie,” he said, voice low and warm against my temple. “And I want to spend every night loving you the way you deserve.” Well, that put…thoughtsin my head. “Here, I’ll give you a little preview of how it’ll start…”
His lips were firm, coaxing mine open, his breath warm against my cheek. His hand found the small of my back, pressing me into him, while the other cradled my neck, anchoring me in place.
A few minutes later, he pulled away, resting his forehead against mine, knowing full well what he was doing to me. As I struggled to catch my breath, he murmured, “Don’t you want to make sweet love every night?” Even though my eyes were closed, I could hear the smirk in his voice.
“Yes,” I answered honestly. “A lot. You’re really hot.”
He chuckled.
“And…” My fingers wrapped around the sides of his neck. “I love you more than I knew I was capable of loving anyone. Like my heart is maxed and overwhelmed in the best way.”
“Mine too. Which is why I want to make you Mrs. Dupree.”
“I’m already Mrs. Dupree.”
“No. You’reMs. Dupree.” His head tipped to the side and that smirk appeared. “I was thinking. What if we shook things up and hyphenated our last names so our kid’s name is Sally Dupree-Dupree?”
My laugh was instant, shaking my chest. “We’re having a boy first. A curly brown-haired boy with your eyes. And mouth and nose. Basically a Cash-clone. So instead of Sally, it’ll be Johnny Dupree-Dupree.”
Cash scratched his chin, thinking about it like this wasn’t the most ridiculous conversation ever. “No. That’s not going to work. It’s not catchy enough. What if he becomes a famous NFL quarterback like Blue? It needs to sound cooler.” His fingers brushed over my sides. “What about Johnny Dupree-Squared? We could call him JD2 for short.”
I cackled.
His eyebrows waggled. “You know you want to.” His nose nudged mine. “And we can’t practice the baby-making until we’re wearing the matching bands.”
