Page 72 of Bombshell (Whiskey Dolls 1)

“I want you, Marin. I want everything. I want to wake up with you every morning and go to bed beside you every night.” He took my face in his hands, leaning in so close his lips brushed against mine as he spoke. “I want you to keep loving my son with all your heart and giving him something I thought he’d never have. And I want you to keep loving me, because I’m so crazy, stupidly, insanely in love with you, I can’t breathe if you aren’t near me.”

He closed the last miniscule bit of space and kissed me. “Say you forgive me, baby, because I’m done living without you.”

“Is this for real?” I croaked, my heart lodged in my throat. It couldn’t be. I couldn’t believe it was possible that I’d melted the Ice King.

“Nothing will ever be more real than this. Let me have you forever, Marin.”

I wasn’t sure there had ever been a more moving, more romantic declaration of love. I was pretty sure Pierce just took first place in that. “O-okay.”

His lips smiled against mine. “Really?”

“Yeah. Really.” My forehead puckered into a frown. “But if you ever hurt me like that again—” I started to warn, but he cut me off.

“Never again, baby. I swear. Tell me you love me. Please.”

God, this man. “I love you so much, Pierce. You have no idea.”

He laughed and kissed me again. Over and over. Speaking through kisses. “I think I might have some idea. After all, you’ve got the shittiest poker face on the planet.”

I pulled back in an attempt to scowl up and him, but he wasn’t having any of that. His lips were on mine again when the bedroom door came flying open. Eli stood there in his little man pajamas, looking up at us with his face twisted in disgust.

“Eww! Are you guys kissin’?”

I leaned into Pierce and giggled into his chest as he rounded me with his arms. “Yeah, buddy. That’s what two grownups do when they love each other.”

He gave that a think, his little brow furrowing and making him look even more like his father. “If you guys are kissin’ and you love each other, does that mean Mar-Mar can be my mommy down here on earth?”

I honestly wasn’t sure how much more my heart could take at this point. Breaking away from Pierce, I moved toward the little boy who owned my heart so completely, I knew I’d never get it back. And I was totally fine with that. As far as I was concerned, the Walton men could keep it forever.

I crouched down in front of him and took his hands in mine. “I’ll be whatever you want me to be, Eli, Eli, the coolest guy. It doesn’t matter what you call me, because I’ll always be your Mar-Mar. You will always have me. Does that work for you?”

He scrunched his little lips to the side in thought, then eventually shrugged. “Yeah, that works.”

Three little words, and suddenly everything in my world was right.

I might not have been looking for love when I met Pierce, and he certainly hadn’t wanted it, but it found us anyway. As Ms. Weatherby said, the heart always gets what it wants.

I was just lucky that mine wanted someone so amazing.

Epilogue

Pierce

This was so stupid. I couldn’t believe I’d let her talk me into this.

I felt the eyes of every single person in the room staring at us, waiting with bated breath. Waiting to see if we were going to fail or succeed.

Christ, even Tali and Nick had gotten in on the action. They were currently at the station beside ours, looking way too damn smug.Bastards. Sure, yes, I was thrilled they’d worked their shit out and were now happier than ever, but did they really need to come here every week just to rub mine and Marin’s faces in our lack of skill?

When Marin had suggested we sign up for a couple’s cooking class a few weeks ago, I’d initially felt my balls shrivel up inside my body at the thought of it. But she’d just looked so damn adorable, all sure of herself and excited to share something like this with each other, that I couldn’t say no.

I’d regretted it from the very first class. But we were in this now. No backing out... unless of course, the instructor kicked us out of this one too.

Ignoring the curious looks from everyone else, I turned to Marin. She was anxiously chewing on her bottom lip, gnawing away like crazy as she stared at the stove, waiting for the timer to ding.

Leaning over, I whispered in her ear. “You know what they say. A watched oven never dings.”

She turned to me and glowered. “That’s not the saying, dummy. It’s a watched pot never boils. That damn oven is going to ding no matter what. I’m just worried what’s going to come out of it when it does.”

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