Page 4 of Yours, Now and Always
If he so much as says my name in that voice, I’m gone. I will dissolve into a puddle of undone womanhood and forgotten deadlines.
With full dramatic flair, I wave a finger down the length of his body. “All of this. Why is it here? You should be at work doing hostile takeover things.”
When he takes a step forward, I jab the air as if I’m casting a warding spell. “No. Do not take another step. I have files.”
His lips twitch, dangerously close to a smirk,but that look in his eyes? Unholy. Unmoving. Unfazed.
“Files.” He says it like a one-word sentence but makes it sound like a question.
“Yes, files. Work. That thing I do while you go do your thing. And my thing is very behind today and would like to know why your thing appears to have been entirely forgotten.”
He doesn’t answer.
He just keeps walking.
One step. Then another.
No hurry. No apology. Just that slow predatory calm that says,I already know what you’re going to do.
I backpedal. Trip over a shoe I didn’t know was there. Catch myself on the counter like that’ll protect me. It will not.
Gage stops in front of me and doesn’t even touch me. Doesn’t have to. He just looks down at me with that intense focus of his and says, “You’re flustered.”
“I’m not flustered,” I lie.
His gaze flicks down to the finger I forgot was still pointed at him. He catches my hand in his. Moves it gently to the side. Then leans in, mouth brushing my ear. “Tell your files they’ll have to wait.”
I go still because this isn’t Gage teasing or distracting me. Or showing up looking like an international scandal in a suit to turn me on. No, this is him doing that thing he does when he’s already decided something, and the world just hasn’t caught up yet.
That one line from him was calm and possessive in that Gage Black way that makes your soul whimper.
My brain that’s holding on with only a bobby pin and misplaced confidence just blue screens and quits the game.
“Wait for what?” I whisper.
He pulls back just enough to look at me, wearing the face that says I’ve already lost this argument and I’m about to like it. “We’re getting married.”
My entire system misfires. Heat, panic, want. All at once. “I—what? Wait. Right now?”
He nods. Unapologetic. “The officiant’s here. Our witness is ten minutes out.”
I stare at him as every part of me pauses to make room for this.
“Gage.” His name breathes out of me while I try desperately to get my brain back online. “I’m not dressed. I look like a hot mess. I havecoffeebreath. I spilled things. I screamed at mylaptop. I was almost taken out by a chihuahua and a fire alarm. I can’t get married looking like—” I gesture to myself with both hands “—this.”
He doesn’t say a word. Just runs his eyes over me. Not in anI’m checking you outway, but rather he’s looking at me like he barely even registered the disheveled state I’m in when he arrived.
Then, his eyes find mine again, and he says, “Princess.” It lands like a warning and a vow and a love letter all at once. “Did we not establish six months ago that you should already consider me seduced?”
My breaths start coming faster.
“You think I need perfect?” he goes on. “I need real.” He looks me over again, like I’m a dream he’s waited years for. “And you, in this skirt, with your hair up like that, and your voice cracking, and your whole day falling apart...you’re the realest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.”
I blink, and then I blink some more, because tears are circling, andI am not okay.
“I haven’t written my vows.” My voice is breathless. My brain’s still not working. The only thing functioning is my body, and it’s moving into Gage so I can reach for him, grasping his jacket, searching for something solid. “I wanted to write special vows for you.”
He slides a hand along my jaw.
