31. Okay, Pavlov
ALICE
“Kinky,” I teased as Greyson set his hands over my eyes.
“You have no idea,” he said as he rocked his hips into my ass, nudging me forward.
“I think I’m beginning to,” I insisted. “Surprised you didn’t pull out one of our blindfolds.” Sex with Greyson was still soul-shattering a few hundred times later. I would think I’d grow immune to his gloriously possessive hands, but that had certainly yet to happen. Some days, he worshipped me; others, we just needed to fuck. But it was always his wonderful affirmations poured over my needy little heart that made me melt.
“Thought about it, believe me. But they’re like a trigger for me. I just look at one and go painfully hard.”
“Okay, Pavlov.”
“Maybe let’s not refer to me as a slobbering dog when I’m thinking about your nipples in my mouth.”
Laughing, we continued on to the soothing crash of waves that gradually swallowed the sound of the party as he guided my steps through shifting sand. “I still don’t get any clues?”
“Shhh, just enjoy the waves.”
In a futile attempt to nip at his wrist, I whipped my head to the side, but he just snickered and in the next motion, I was in his arms. “Be a good girl and keep your eyes closed,” he ordered.
“You’re bossy,” I prodded.
“And you like it.”
He wasn’t wrong. “Is that what you’re telling yourself?”
“That’s what you tell me when you suck my cock to the back of your throat like my personal whore.”
My cackle trailed away as the dulcet notes of piano tiptoed over the crash of surf, and I turned my head in an attempt to hear more of it. “What is that?”
“Not the response I was expecting,” he noted lightly, and I pinched his chest through the slick material of his button-up. “That’s part of it , princess.”
When Grey set my feet back into the warm sand, I realized I was chewing my lip. Elegant piano music played, my ears straining to recognize the notes. “Can I open yet?” I demanded impatiently.
“Hang on,” he said, but then he let go of me, and I threw my hands out in protest, earning a dark chuckle that sent heat climbing beneath my skin. The subtle whoosh of his feet through the sand held my attention until they silenced, leaving in their stead the most disarming combination of sound and caress of warm air on my cheeks. Anticipation sent butterflies flying through my chest, my teeth running over my bottom lip until at last, Grey breathed, “Now.”
I opened my eyes to find Greyson Hart kneeling on a beautiful blue and gold Thai throw we’d found together. The corners were framed by flickering tea lights and taller candles, and a canopy of glimmering lights formed a peak in the center.
“Grey?” I breathed.
“A year ago, I took you as my wife without earning that title. Not long after, I asked you to date me, Mrs. Hart, and you agreed. In the year since, you’ve stood by my side through literal hell. You’ve had my back when the world came against us. You’ve chosen me time and again—your loyalty unmatched.” He cleared his throat, shifting his weight on the blanket. “But something was missing—the theatrics of it all. The grand gesture a love like this deserves.”
“Grey,” I gasped as he reached into his vest pocket and pulled out a rather thick stack of papers. “What is this?”
“What I should have shown you then. Because before I had any right to call you mine, I knew you would be.”
With nerves in my belly, and confusion throbbing in my mind, I stepped through the sand, careful not to kick any up onto his beautiful arrangement. Between two of the canopy poles was a string with photographs clipped to it. Some were Mattie’s polaroids, others were prints off our phones, but none were those we’d paid a fortune to craft so strategically.
Me on Grey’s back with him laughing, soaking wet from a water fight.
Greyson, looking like he shit his pants on the boat last summer, made me laugh.
Me, asleep on the back patio with the lights glimmering above, looking entirely at peace.
Grey and me dancing at a gala.
Hell, there was even one of us at Paxton’s first Emerald Bay game, proudly wearing our jerseys and foam fingers before everything went to shit.
Me in that damn sling for my arm, glaring at him from the couch where he’d surrounded me in all manner of treats to choose from.
Me and Leighton covered in flour, sandwiching Ollie’s laughing kids between our grinning faces at Christmas.
Eyes watering, I returned to his intense gaze where my real-life Adonis knelt in the sand. I took the stack but just stared at my husband as my breathing picked up tempo with the significance he’d so thoughtfully sown into each little detail. As if in confirmation, the piano gave way to the ethereal notes of Borders by Kalandra. The song I’d been singing the night we started this relationship authentically.
When I glanced to the papers, confusion settled in for a long moment as I read over the words so hastily written and scratched out. I’d know Greyson’s handwriting anywhere.
Alessandra, you are the light of my life
Alessandra Rhodes, you have challenged me from the day you walked into my office
And then a familiar paragraph sprawled at the bottom of the page stopped my breath. My gaze flicked to his, lungs tight in my chest as I looked back to the words he’d said last year on our beach.
To the most stubborn, ambitious, infuriating, and beautiful woman I’ve ever known. I am not a perfect man. You, of all people, have seen the ugliest parts of me, yet you stand here, declaring our lives united. Your grace and empathy inspire me beyond words—to be a better man, to be courageous enough to feel more deeply. While I may never be flawless, I vow to dedicate my life to earning the loyalty you’ve given me. If any woman can push me to conquer impossibilities, it’s you, Alessandra Lennon Rhodes.
My Nona always told me that the Hebrew phrase for partner—Ezer Kenegdo—translates to ’a helper opposite him’, which I think perfectly reflects your unique ability to challenge me in ways no one else can. If you allow me, I vow to prove myself worthy of you. I may never fully deserve what you’ve given me, what you’ve sacrificed to stand beside me, but I promise to spend my life trying.
When my burning eyes pulled away from the text, he smiled softly as I poured flustered words between my lips. “These are… you wrote our vows?”
“Took a few dozen renditions, but they got there.”
“I thought?—”
“It seemed inauthentic to pay someone to write the words which would bind my life to yours.”
“Greyson,” I stammered, my voice breaking. “I had no idea. I?—”
“Had every right to hate me, my Belle. But I never hated you.” He gently swiped my left hand in his, and I scowled as he slipped the mammoth ring from my finger.
“What are you?—”
But he was shaking his head and pulling a little blue box from his jacket. “That one was for them ,” he said pointedly, tucking it away in his breast pocket. Them . The world. The paparazzi. The psychopaths trying to skewer him. “This one is for you .” When Greyson popped the box open, I sucked down a breath, the bridge of my nose stinging as tears demanded release. I’d done a remarkable amount of crying for Greyson Hart in the last twelve months. The ring inside the velvet cushion had two accompanying bands—all Art Deco, gold and diamonds surrounding an emerald fitting for the name of our city. “This time just for the stars, the sea, you, and me…well, and Cap...and Chip.” Captain, who’d unceremoniously plopped onto a large rock jutting from the beach, lifted his big noggin to turn it sideways when he heard his name. “I love you, Mrs . Alessandra Hart. I screwed up my chance to give you a proper proposal, so instead, I ask you this: stay with me. You know all there is to know—the good, the bad, and the ugly. And I’m asking you to stay with me.”
Smirking to cover the tears blurring my vision, I pointed out, “That wasn’t really said like a question, Grey.”
“That wasn’t really an answer, Alice.”
“Yes,” I breathed, losing the battle with my emotions as I beamed, and tears poured when he slid the new ring into its rightful place. Beautiful. And absolutely me . Not flashy. No gaudy camera bait to be seen. Just a piece that was a little quirky around the edges, but classic all the same. Grey rose to his feet and crushed me against him a beat before his mouth found mine.
“Thank fuck, because that party would be pretty awful if you said no,” he teased, the smirk I loved so much twisting his words. “There’s more.”
“More!?” I croaked as he lifted me up, my dress bunching around my waist as he hoisted me onto his hips, expectation colliding with… nerves in his eyes?
“Read the next one.”
Too much. The man was too much for me. Too sweet. Too…vulnerable to wrap my head around. No trace of the robot was left in sight. Wrapping my arms around his neck like a koala, I turned to the next page and hesitated, throat tightening as I saw Emerald Bay Urology printed at the top left corner. Blood turning to ice, heart in my belly, I asked, “Are you…are you sick ?”
A dark rumble vibrated my ribs, but he pressed his lips to my shoulder and whispered, “No.”
“Then what is this?”
“A gift. Should you choose to accept it?”
“Will this letter self-destruct before I make sense of it?”
Another chuckle, this time as he buried himself in my hair. “Stop panicking and read it, Alice.”
Struggling to swallow, I did, and my confusion turned to shock, followed by a crushing wave of overwhelm. “I read it and I’m still panicking.”
“Only if you want me to. It’s just an appointment, and there’s no guarantee I can?—”
“You’re reversing your vasectomy?”
“I’m still waiting for my wife to approve the procedure. But…that is the plan. Our decisions shouldn’t be limited by choices I made out of fear, shame, or grief.”
“What happened to kids being a liability?”
“ Love is a liability,” he said simply. “But you’ve shown me I can’t live without it, either.” With a gentle brush of his lips on mine, he sent my head spinning. “You found me as a broken man and salvaged the heart few people knew I still had beating. The greatest honor would be watching the love of my life mother my children.”
“I love you,” I breathed shakily. His answering smile was enough to light my soul on fire. Honestly, I never imagined the kind of love that would make me all warm and fuzzy once the initial jitters wore off—never imagined the all-consuming, sweep-you-off-your-feet kind of romance. And yeah, okay, ours certainly had an unconventional beginning, but what mattered in the end was that we’d found our way to each other in this insane world. The significance of this offer hit me square in the chest, and a wave of affection for Greyson Hart nearly took my legs out from under me.
“I love you, too. What do you say, baby?”
“You want a family.”
“I want our family,” he corrected.
“You’re serious.”
“As a heart attack.”
“It’s safe?”
“ Worried about me?”
“ Obviously ,” I squeaked.
“Simple outpatient procedure. Sit on some frozen peas for a few days. The doctor comes highly recommended.”
“And you’ve thought this through?” I asked, although even to me, it was obvious I was grasping at straws. My eyes stung as I imagined life with our own little Hart heiress or maybe a little prince our nephews could terrorize. Would they get Hart hazels or Rhodes blues? Would they be quiet like us, or would the universe have a sense of humor and send us an Elora or an Oliver? I suppose most women worry about whether or not their partner would be a good father, but…that never crossed my mind. Not with Grey. I didn’t have to ask myself because I knew he’d be incredible. Our babies would have the world at their disposal. And yes, we had to live a life with an insane security force, but…there was nothing this man wouldn’t do to protect our family. His guys included.
Sensing my need to process, he just nodded. After what had to be an uncomfortably long buffering period, he finally pressed, “So?”
I looked between those beautiful dark hazels, illuminated only by the glittering bulbs draped above us, and smirked. “Put a baby in me, Mr. Hart.”
The warmth of his laughter would live in my mind for the rest of my life. Struggling to compose himself, he finally chuckled a lighthearted, “I don’t think it works quite like that.”
“Then, practice , dammit,” I blurted before our lips collided. Still grinning against my kiss, he lowered us onto the blanket, hitched my dress around my hips with warm, ravenous hands, and did just that.
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