Chapter 25 #2
My heart squeezes, warmth spreading through me.
I’ve never wanted anything more than I want a future with her.
Than I want this family I’ve inherited. I don’t know what that fucker back in Raleigh was thinking, but maybe I owe him a six-pack of Southern Brothers as a thank you.
His fuckup is the reason I’m standing here, reveling in all this.
But I want more.
I want there to be a ring on that finger, so she can show it off to the world. So people know that she’s mine. I want her to be Presley Hayes. I want to spend our Sunday mornings snuggled in bed, not only with Otis, but with a gaggle of siblings for him.
Most of all, right now, what I want is a kiss.
Straightening myself out, I push forward, walking toward all the laughter, ready to make a smart-ass comment. To keep them all laughing while I kiss my girl.
“See, that’s why I’m glad I fell in love with—”
Presley stops abruptly, hands clapping over her open mouth. Eyes wide with panic, she looks around, checking to see if anyone heard what she said. None of my sisters-in-law look fazed. If anything, they appear more concerned with why she stopped herself.
Me too, actually.
“You love me?” I keep my voice light, almost teasing, as I close the distance between us.
Presley’s eyes grow even more, looking like they are going to pop out of her head. Her hands are still covering her mouth, as she starts to move her head in a weird wiggle, and I can’t tell if it’s supposed to signal yes or no.
“No, I didn’t mean…I mean…” she sputters. “Yes, but, I…” Hauling in a deep breath, she tries to collect herself and fails, a deep crimson creeping up her neck.
I place the flowers on the counter, ready to take her in my arms, but she bolts. Pushing right past me, she moves faster than I’ve ever seen and heads toward the sliding glass door that leads to the back deck.
I can see where Otis got his urge to run…
“I didn’t mean—” Brenna starts.
“You’re fine, Bren,” I assure her.
“I’ll go—”
“No,” I cut Miss Belle off. “Pretty sure this is my territory.”
I give her a nod, taking in the serene smile spreading across her face. Then I follow my girl.
By the time I make it onto the deck, Presley is nowhere to be found.
I look over to my brothers, Ewan still messing with the grill while Milo mock fights with Otis as our father cheers them on.
Biting my lips, I hold back a comment about fighting like cats and dogs, knowing that the Milo and Otis reference would absolutely be lost on Little Man.
“Fire pit,” Ewan says, loud enough for only me to hear.
I clap him on the back, giving him a thankful nod. He’s a man of few words most days, but he comes in clutch when he needs to.
Off to the fire pit I go. Through the wide back yard and down the small hill that leads toward the pond, I start to jog, not wanting any more time to pass. Not wanting Presley to get all up in her head.
“Pres,” I say, my breath ragged as I slow down, joining her at the fire pit.
She turns toward me, eyes filled with tears, her face still that beautiful shade of red. My stomach lurches, hating that she’s a mess over this. I need to fix it.
“I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying to—”
“I love you.” I cut her off, letting those words flow as freely as the Flint River. “I love you, Presley.”
“Jace…I…” She swallows hard. “I wasn’t trying to force anything. I don’t want you to feel like you have to…”
“I love you,” I tell her again. “I wanted to say it last night, but I didn’t, because I didn’t…don’t want you to think I was just saying it after sex.”
Presley smiles. An honest, real, full of joy smile. And fuck, is she beautiful.
“Not that I don’t love having sex with you,” I continue, grabbing her hips and drawing her into me.
My body is flush with hers, so I rest my forehead against hers, trying to let her know I mean this from the bottom of my heart.
“Because I do, Mama, I really do. But this is more than that. I love you. I love Otis. And I want you both to love me back.”
Giggling, Presley sniffles, leaning into me more.
“I love you back. And so does Otis. He loves you so much. We both do. Which is why this is so scary. Because I want this. All of this. Us, these Sunday dinners, holidays with both sets of parents. I…I want Otis to give your parents nicknames like he’s given mine. ”
“He should,” I agree. “I’m pretty sure Miss Belle really wants to be Glam-ma, but we’ll see what sticks. Although I do kinda like Aww-wee…”
“You don’t think it would be too…forward?” She leans back, looking up at me with concern.
I shake my head. “Nope. Not at all. I’m already calling you mine, so why shouldn’t you call us yours?”
Presley giggles again, this time a tear accompanying it.
“I love you, Jace. But we’re gonna try for better than Aww-wee. Because having Paps and Aww-wee kinda sounds like things that you have done to you at the gynecologist.”
I throw my head back, a loud, deep guttural laugh exploding from my chest. When she puts it that way…well, she’s not wrong.
“Okay, then we’ll work on something better for Aww-wee.”
I tighten my grip, pulling her in even closer.
Leaning down, I press my lips against hers, kissing her soft and slow.
Like we don’t have anywhere to be. The rest of the family be damned, because all that matters right now is this woman knowing how much I love her.
That I’m committed to her, our family, and our future.
“We should probably head back. I don’t want your family to think I’m rude,” Presley whispers into the kiss.
“We wouldn’t be the first pairing to sneak off for a little somethin’-somethin’ during Sunday dinner.”
“Jace!” Presley pushes me playfully, her blush returning.
“What? Haven’t I told you all about my parents’ ‘grown-up naps’?” I joke. Presley’s jaw goes slack, shock taking over. I nod. “Yup. We would not be the first. Or the last.”
“Maybe some other time.”
Slipping my hand into hers, I lead the way back to the house, unable to hide my smile. Forget the little girl with the cotton candy—my insides are now Jim Carrey in a pink tutu doing a happy dance.
Presley Callahan loves me back.
“Deal.”