38. It’s About a Perfect Forever
IT’S ABOUT A PERFECT FOREVER
WILLOW
A sharp whistle cuts through the night, shattering the spell Ray has woven between us. I jolt, my breath hitching, but before I can even think about scrambling off him, Ray’s fingers tighten against my hips, keeping me exactly in place. I whip my head toward the source of the interruption, and sure enough, Decent Joe is grinning as he saunters toward us.
“I see you two have found each other,” DJ calls out, hands tucked into his pockets like he wasn’t the conductor of this whole ambush. “Can you imagine my surprise when you both called me within five minutes of each other, asking to go on the Ferris wheel? Are you kids not getting along, or is this some sort of roleplay kink I should be concerned about?”
“Oh my God, DJ!” My hands fly to my face, mortified. Out of everyone in the world, why did it have to be him throwing around words like roleplay kink ? He’s dating my mom, for God’s sake!
Ray doesn’t even flinch. He just growls, not bothering to so much as move his gaze away from me. “DJ, is there any fucking way you can stall the ride for the entire night?”
DJ barks out a laugh. “Not a chance, man. If you’re into keeping your fiancée captive, you should probably invest in some good-quality handcuffs or ankle restraints.”
“DJ!” My voice shoots up several octaves. “What the hell are you watching these days?”
Ray exhales long and slow, like he just heard the most genius idea in the world. “That’s actually not a bad suggestion. Maybe I’ll look into it.”
I choke. “You’re crazy if you think I’m letting you?—”
Ray leans in, dropping his voice so low that I feel it more than hear it. “You’re absolutely right. I’m crazy—too crazy, when it comes to you.”
The next second, his lips crash back onto mine with a force that sends a shiver down my spine. There’s nothing gentle about this kiss. It’s raw, frustrated, like a storm that’s been building for too long and finally finds its breaking point.
His hands grip my waist, fingers digging in like he’s anchoring himself to me. I feel the heat of him, the quiet desperation in the way his lips part against mine, the way his tongue sweeps in, claiming, taking, reminding me exactly what I left behind.
Somewhere in the back of my mind, I register that we’re moving. His strong arms shift, lifting me effortlessly, carrying me without once breaking the kiss. His lips stay fused to mine as his feet find steady ground, each step deliberate, owning the space between us.
By the time we finally break apart, I’m breathless, dazed, and no longer where I was before. I blink, realizing I’m now seated inside the Ferris wheel cabin.
Ray steps back, eyes locked on to mine, his chest rising and falling with the same uneven breaths I’m struggling to take. The ride lurches to life, the cabin swaying slightly as we ascend, but I can’t look away from him.
“Does it still hurt?” I ask, watching him blink his red eyes. I still can’t believe I Maced him, even if unintentionally.
He blinks once, then twice, and then, his answer cuts through me like a blade. “Less than the way you hurt me a month ago.”
I suck in a sharp breath. Crap. He’s pulling no punches.
But don’t you deserve it all, Wills?
I open my mouth, ready to say something to fix the gaping wound I left behind. But before I can, he pulls me against him again, his warmth seeping into my bones, silencing my words before they even form.
The Ferris wheel creaks to a slow stop, and just when I think I can’t handle any more surprises, Ray reaches into the inner pocket of his jacket and pulls out a single sunflower.
Of course he did. Because this man—this impossible, stubborn, wonderful man—has been wishing on sunflowers while I was too scared to trust in us.
“Do you truly believe in these wishes?” he asks. I start to answer, but he pins me in place with his gaze. “The real answer, Willow. Not the one that sounds good or that you think is socially acceptable.”
My throat tightens as I realize how well he knows me.
“For me, they mean more than any prayer.”
A slow, satisfied smile spreads across his face, like I just confirmed something he already knew. “Hold it.” He places the sunflower in my hand before covering it with his own, his warmth bleeding into my skin. “Now, close your eyes, Firefly.”
And I obey.
“Dear Wish Fairy,” he begins, his breath teasing my ear. “For the past thirty days, my bug and I have been here every morning, asking you to help Willow find her way back to us. We requested you to make her less scared and to remind her that we were waiting. Tonight, you fulfilled our wishes, thank you so much for that.”
A sharp exhale rushes past my lips, my heart clenching at his words.
“She came to me,” he continues, his voice now edged with something fierce. “She told me she can’t say she doesn’t love me, and I’m taking that as a fact that she does.”
“Ray—” My eyes fly open, my head already turning toward him.
“Shh. Close your eyes, Willow. I need to finish my wish. As I was saying,” he starts again, “she doesn’t know how much I love her. She has no idea the lengths I’d go to see her happy. I don’t let people in easily. But when I do, I don’t let them go. The last thing Willow told me through her letter was that if soul mates were real, she’d want to be mine. Well, I want to tell her that they are real, and she already is mine.”
I suck in a breath, his words sinking into every part of me, filling all the cracks.
“So,” he continues, “she can go ahead and give up any thoughts of running. That was a one-time allowance, and she’s used up her chance. Wish Fairy, can you please make sure my Willow understands this and stops being so damn fucking stubborn.”
A single tear escapes, slipping down my cheek, but I don’t open my eyes, because I’m whispering the same wish in my heart.
I feel Raymond shift beside me. Then, softly—so softly it almost breaks me—he speaks. “Open your eyes, Firefly. You’re missing the best view.”
I blink, my vision still hazy, but even through the tears, I see that it’s breathtaking. The lights of the town below glow like scattered fireflies, and when the lake reflects them back, the rippling water makes them dance. The Ferris wheel creaks as it sways, rocking us gently in the night air.
We stay like that, silent, tangled in each other, until the ride starts again and takes us back down. As we descend, I reach for him, curling my fingers around his.
Nerves flicker in my chest, but I don’t hesitate. “I love you, Ray.”
His lips twitch before his mouth curves into a devastatingly sensual smile. His head dips, his breath teasing against my lips. “Just remember that tomorrow.”
* * *
This morning, when I open my eyes, a slow, unstoppable smile spreads across my face. I’m in Ray’s bed, and the first thing I see is him—his beautiful face and his green eyes shining with amusement like he’s been waiting for me to wake up.
“Good morning.” My cheeks instantly warm as last night comes rushing back.
After we said goodbye to Decent Joe, Ray drove us home, his hand never once letting go of mine. The moment he parked outside the garage—hell, even before he fully cut the engine—his mouth was on me. He didn’t even wait to get to his room. He pressed me against the wall in the hallway, kissed me until my knees were weak, and touched me like he had thirty days to make up for…which technically, he did.
Meanwhile, I, the logical, responsible one, was the one worried that Quill would catch us before we got the chance to tell her that things have changed between her dad and me.
“It’s a very good morning,” Ray murmurs. “So good that it still feels like a dream.”
My cheeks ache from grinning so wide. “Dream about me often, Teager?”
His mouth tugs at the corner, wicked and knowing. “You have no fucking idea how many times.”
Holy crap.
Gone is the sentimental Raymond Teager who makes wishes to fairies and whispers confessions into the night. This is the man who takes what he wants and doesn’t second-guess himself. The shift sends a shiver through me, and I open my mouth to ask what exactly he’s dreamed about when…the door flies open.
A blur of red pajamas and messy golden hair barrels straight toward me.
“Willow!” Quill launches herself onto the bed, her little body colliding against mine with a force that has me gasping before I can even sit up.
Ray groans as she lands half on top of him, half on top of me, and just like that, my entire body melts.
“Hey, Bug.” I laugh, smoothing her hair back as she snuggles against me. “I missed you.” My hands running over her small back freeze.
What the hell?
Something cold and metallic presses against my wrist, the weight of it suddenly registering as I pull my hand away from Quill’s back. A handcuff.
I jerk my head toward Raymond, my jaw practically unhinging when I see the smug, self-satisfied grin stretching across his too-handsome face.
“What the heck is this, Ray?” I demand, lifting my arm. The long chain rattles ominously between us.
Ray casually lifts his own hand—where the other cuff is secured tightly to his wrist.
He tied us together. He freaking handcuffed me.
My brain short-circuits. One half of me is overheating because, holy hell, what is more romantic than your guy literally shackling the two of you together? The other, more rational half of me is screaming about boundaries and privacy.
“I was being a good sport,” he says casually, completely unbothered by my rising hysteria. “Taking DJ’s advice seriously.”
Oh. My. God.
“You didn’t,” I hiss, yanking at the chain, but it barely moves against his strength.
Ray has the audacity to chuckle. Quill, still curled against me, giggles.
“Did Daddy tie you together so you won’t run away again?” she signs innocently, blinking up at me.
My glare snaps back to him, but that damn grin hasn’t budged an inch.
“I’m not taking any more chances, Firefly,” he murmurs, sending a shiver right down my spine. “You can keep running, but just know”—he tugs lightly at the chain between us, pulling me the smallest bit closer—“wherever you go, I’ll be right there with you.”
With that, he leans back again and turns to Quill. “Bug, how do you feel about attending a wedding?”
I stare at him, my mouth parting in sheer stunned disbelief. Is he really doing what I think he’s doing?
Quill gasps, her whole face lighting up. “A wedding? Will it be at Blooming Quill?”
“I think that would be the perfect place,” Ray replies smoothly, his serious gaze locking on to mine.
“Whose wedding is it, Daddy?” Quill blinks between us, completely unaware of the bomb her dad has decided to drop.
“How about me and Willow?” He just casually announced our wedding plans like he was discussing a grocery list, and he hasn’t even properly proposed yet!
My heartbeat is a damn drum solo in my ears as I glance at Quill, waiting for her reaction. She’s shocked. Her little mouth is wide open, her eyes bouncing between her dad and me like she’s trying to process what just happened. Then, slowly, her expression shifts from surprise to something…hopeful.
“You’re marrying my dad?”
While I was prepared for a slow, delicate transition into this family, Raymond Teager apparently had other plans.
He doesn’t even blink as he replies, on my behalf, “She very much is.”
My stomach flips. This man.
I turn back to Quill, deciding I’ll deal with Raymond later because, right now, it’s our bug who matters most. “Even though your dad absolutely sucked at the proposal”—I shoot Ray a pointed glare before softening my expression as I look at Quill—“I’d love to marry him…but only if it’s okay with you.”
She throws herself at me, her little arms wrapping around my neck with all the force her tiny frame can muster. “I’d love that, Willow!”
The impact of her words seeps into my bones, and I suddenly can’t remember what life was like before this little girl and her crazy dad wormed their way into my heart.
“Would it be okay if I call you Mom?”
I swallow, my throat thick. “I’d love it if you called me Mom, Bug.”
Quill smiles so big it nearly splits her face in half.
Ray kneels onto the bed and opens the familiar velvet box. “For a second, I wondered if I should get you a new ring. But then I realized, I don’t want to change how we started.”
“Me neither,” I whisper.
“Me three!” Quill giggles, and we all burst into laughter.
Ray takes my hand, his thumb skimming my knuckles, slow and deliberate. “Miss Pershing, now that you’ve seen me in every way, do you agree to make what started as our imperfect arrangement our perfect forever?”
My heart nearly combusts. I don’t even hesitate. “I can’t wait to do that.”
Ray slides the ring onto my finger, which is no longer a cover story but our new reality. Then he rises to his feet, that signature smug smirk settling onto his face.
Oh no. I know that look.
“Okay,” I breathe out, “now can you remove the cuffs?”
He tilts his head, completely unfazed. “Not until Friday.”
“What?” I squawk. “That’s two days from now!”
“I know. Your mom and mine have already started planning the wedding. Ours will be the first official wedding at Blooming Quill.”
“Ray, that’s insane! We can’t get married in two days. There’s so much that needs to be done!” I start pacing as much as the chain will allow, flailing my free hand.
He shrugs, completely unbothered. “Good thing we own a wedding estate with expert staff who can pull off any dream wedding in forty-eight hours.”
I have a sudden urge to strangle him right now as he saunters over to his closet, where sure enough, I spot my luggage sitting neatly in the corner.
“Did you move my stuff here?” Shock laces my voice.
“Only the things from Violet’s place. Rest of it from your old apartment will arrive this evening. Your mom volunteered to move your personal things, and the movers will handle the rest.”
“You talked to my mom?”
“I talked to a lot of people.”
I’m still processing just how much scheming this man has been up to as he grabs a towel and heads toward the bathroom.
I cross my arms. “Do I accompany you there too?”
He turns, his smirk turning downright sinful. “Your mom has a dirty brain, Bug.”
Quill giggles.
“Ray—”
“Shh.” He lifts a finger and pulls out a tiny key and removes his own cuff. Then, with a mischievous glint in his eyes, he loops the chain around the bathroom door handle and snaps it shut.
My jaw drops.
“I told you,” he says, leaning against the doorway, his gaze sweeping over me with a hunger that shouldn’t be legal this early in the morning. “I’m keeping you tied to me until I permanently tie you to me, Willow. This is nonnegotiable.”
With that, he steps into the bathroom and shuts the door behind him, leaving me, still handcuffed, still speechless, and very, very in love with the lunatic I agreed to marry.