Chapter 21
TWENTY-ONE
WARRICK
The sound of someone knocking on my front door shatters the ugly silence that’s enshrouded me since I got home after dropping Verity’s things off to Henry.
I’ve been alone for fucking decades, and it’s never once bothered me, but the two hours since I packed up her belongings and removed all traces of her from my home have been the loneliest of my life.
I didn’t realize it was possible to miss someone so much, so quickly, but I feel hollow without her.
She accused me of trying to buy her. The woman I love with all my heart.
The woman that I want to marry, that I want to have a family with and spend the rest of my life with, thinks I gave her a place to stay and food to eat in exchange for sex.
She thinks I only brought her here so that I could fuck her.
I thought she understood how I feel about her, but not only have I clearly not shown her how important she is to me, I’ve actually made her feel like a prostitute. Only instead of money, I’ve traded sexual favors for safety and a fucking bed.
Fresh nausea rushes up the back of my throat, but I swallow the acid down, breathing through my nose as self-hatred tries to consume me. The moment I laid eyes on her, I knew she was mine. I knew she was it for me, and I thought she understood that too.
But maybe she didn’t. Maybe I wasn’t clear enough when I told her I loved her. Maybe she misconstrued me asking her to marry me. Maybe I’m just a creepy fucking thirty-eight-year-old man who stupidly thought a beautiful twenty-year-old would want me.
Another knock drags me from my self-recriminations, and I push to my feet and make my way to the door.
Closing my eyes, I wish whoever is outside away.
I don’t want to see any of my brothers right now.
I don’t want to have to explain that the woman I love thinks I’m the type of man who’d be willing to blackmail her in exchange for sex.
Unlocking the door, I pull it open an inch, my hand falling to my side when I see Verity standing on my doorstep.
“I didn’t mean it, I’m so sorry,” she wails, then throws herself into my arms, wrapping her tiny shaking body around mine so quickly that I stumble back a step.
It takes me a moment to process what’s happening before I slowly curl my arm around her, guiding us both into the house far enough that I can close the door.
“Verity,” I call her name.
“I’m sorry,” she says again, pulling away only far enough to look up at me, her face wet with tears that continue to fall from her hollow eyes.
“What are you doing here?” I ask cautiously, not sure what to do or say now that she’s in my arms again.
“I called you, but you didn’t answer or call me back. I needed to see you. I went to see Octy, but she was working, so Leo offered to bring me up here so I could see you,” she rambles.
“Who the fuck is Leo?” I growl, palming her arms and pushing her far enough away that I can see her properly.
“She works at the tattoo studio. Apparently, we’re besties now,” Verity says, but the only word I hear is she.
“Leo is a woman?” I ask, needing to clarify.
“Yes.” Verity nods.
Tension melts from my muscles, and I pull her back into me, hugging her tightly while she buries her face into my chest. For the first time since I left her at the apartment, my heart starts to beat again, like I need her close to function.
I don’t know why she’s here, but my tight chest starts to loosen, and the color that had leeched from my life when I left her in the apartment, starts to brighten again.
Moments pass while we cling to each other, not speaking, just holding on tightly, our heartbeats syncing until they’re matching once again.
I don’t want to pry her off me. In fact, all I want to do is carry her to our bed, strip her naked, and fuck her until she’s so pregnant that she can’t leave, but she doesn’t want that.
I don’t know if she wants me at all or if she just feels some kind of fucked-up sense of obligation to be in a relationship with me because I gave her a home, food, and a bank card.
“Verity, what are you doing here?” I ask again, slowly inching away from her, until I finally let go of her and step back, putting distance between us.
“You don’t want me here?” she asks, her lower lip wobbling.
“I didn’t say that. I asked why you were here.”
“I’m sorry,” she whimpers.
“What the hell do you have to be sorry for?” I rasp, feeling tears prickle at my own eyes.
“God, Warrick, what I said to you. I didn’t mean it. I was angry and I just said it and I didn’t mean it,” she rambles, her words coming out in a rush.
“What didn’t you mean?”
“When I said…” Tears spill from her eyes. “When I said that you’d brought me. I didn’t. I don’t. I shouldn’t have…” She trails off, her lips trembling as she cries.
“You don’t have to apologize for telling me how you feel.”
“But that’s not how I feel. At least not about you. It was me. I did that. Not you.”
“What?” I question, utterly confused.
“You saved me, and then you kissed me, and I felt something. But after we had sex, I was worried that I’d used you.”
“You were worried that you’d used me?” I laugh bitterly.
“You’ve been taking care of me since the moment we met.
You brought me here when I had nowhere to stay.
You cooked for me when I didn’t have anything to eat.
You watched hockey with me because I like it, even though you don’t.
You never judged me for my past. You told me you loved me even though I never said it back.
You did all these things for me. You gave me so much, and all I have to offer you is me.
So after we had sex that first time, I was worried that I had sex with you to make myself feel better for taking advantage of your generosity. ”
Choking on my own saliva, I cough, hacking until my eyes water and I have to blink to clear my vision. “You…you thought you’d used me?” I question incredulously.
She nods, her expression miserable. “But that’s not the reason I had sex with you,” she says quickly.
“It’s not?”
“No,” she says. “Before you, I’ve never been attracted to…well to anyone. I thought I might be asexual, because I just had no interest in…anything. And then we met, and the first morning here, I had a shower, and I…” She trails off, her cheeks blooming a sexy red color.
“You what?” I prompt, needing her to explain.
“I touched myself and fantasized about how it’d feel if it was you,” she admits, clearly embarrassed.
“That’s not something you—”
“Never,” she interrupts. “Not since I took my first sex-ed class and I touched myself to check I had everything girls were supposed to have down there.”
I feel my eyebrows dart up to my hairline. “You never?”
Shaking her head emphatically, her blush spreads down her neck to her chest. “No.”
“But you touched yourself and thought about me the first morning you were here?” I question.
She nods again. “Then you kissed me.”
“Your first kiss.”
“Yes,” she agrees. “And then we had sex, and you took all of my firsts.”
“How did that make you feel?” I question, needing to understand.
“Good, so good, but then bad,” she admits.
Sucking in a sharp breath, I exhale slowly. “Bad how?”
“Because after you’d fucked my pussy and my mouth and my ass and then took care of me like I was the most precious thing in the world to you, I felt empty and confused and sad.
I started to wonder if I’d had sex with you because it was the only thing I could give you in exchange for how much you’d given me. ”
A fresh surge of nausea bubbles in my stomach. “I made you feel like I expected you to give me something in exchange?” I ask.
“No,” she says quickly. “Never. All you did was give, and it scared me. No one is that nice. No one is just good. But you are. You’re the best person I’ve ever met.”
“But you still thought I was trying to buy you?”
“No,” she says loudly. “I lay beside you and really thought about everything you’d done for me and how that made me feel.
It took me literally moments to realize that I loved how you touched me, how you treated me, how you cared for me, and I felt guilty that all I had to offer you in return was me.
Since the day you found me, you’ve given me everything.
When you asked me to marry you, I wanted to say yes, but I have literally nothing to offer you.
I’m a homeless, unemployed, dumb ex-stripper, and you’re you.
You’re strong and sweet and caring. You’re everything, and I’m nothing. ”
“Don’t say that,” I growl. “You’re fucking everything, Verity,” I snap, hating the way she’s talking about herself like she’s lesser just because she was struggling when fate brought me to her.
“I’m not, Warrick. I’m a mess, and I thought if I could contribute, then it’d make us more equal. Like I had value. When James told me about the job at the ranger service, I thought you’d be excited.”
Huffing out a shaky breath, I shake my head. “But I wasn’t.”
Her lower lip trembles as she shakes her head. “I can’t keep taking from you, Warrick, when all I have to offer in return is me.”
“All I want is you. I’d give up everything else in the world, except you,” I tell her.
“I was angry and I was mean and I pushed all my feelings of inadequacy onto you. I said I felt like you were buying me, but what I actually meant was that I felt like I was taking advantage of you. That I was exploiting you and your desire to look after me. I’m sorry, Warrick, I’m so sorry,” she sobs, her whole face crumpling as her shoulders shake.
Exhaling an unsteady breath, I stare at her, wanting to go to her, to wrap her in my arms and tell her it’s okay. But is it?
“I love you,” she whimpers. “I love you so much. I realized it when I was out at dinner the other night, but I wanted to have something more than just me to offer you before I admitted it out loud. I wanted to not just be the homeless girl that you need to save. I wanted to tell you how I feel about you when I didn’t need you to take care of me.
When all I needed from you was just for you to love me back. ”
“You love me?” I question, shocked.
She nods. “I don’t want to live in that apartment. I want to live here with you. If you don’t want me to have a job, I won’t. I’ll do whatever you need, just don’t send me away,” she whimpers, her eyes alive and begging me.
“You love me?” I ask again, needing to hear her say it.
Sucking in a breath, she quickly wipes the tears from her cheeks. “I love you, Warrick. I love you, and if you still want me, I want to marry you. I want forever with you because I’m yours. You saw it before I did, but I see it now. I’ve always been yours.”
I’m barely aware of moving, but the moment my lips find hers, the ragged parts of me that have been bleeding without her all start to merge back together again. I love this woman more than anything else in the world. She was meant to be mine, and I was meant to be hers.
“Ask me,” she says, dragging herself away from my lips long enough to speak.
Wrapping my arms around her, I lift her off the floor, then carry her up the stairs to our room.
Placing her on her feet again, I head into the closet and yank open the top drawer of my dresser.
Finding the red velvet box that I’ve carried around with me as I’ve moved from place to place, I grab it, then go back to Verity.
Dropping to one knee in front of her, I suck in a slow breath, then exhale.
“Amore mio, I fell in love with you the moment I saw you, and I’ve been falling deeper and deeper with every second we spend together.
I love you more than I ever knew it was possible to love another person, and it would make me the happiest man alive if you’d agree to be my wife.
Marry me, Verity. Say yes, and let’s start the rest of forever. ”
Fresh tears drip from her cheeks as she nods. “Yes, I’ll marry you. I love you so much, Warrick.”
Standing, I pull the vintage engagement ring that belonged to my maternal grandmother from the box and slide it onto Verity’s finger. It fits perfectly, and the sight of her wearing my ring settles the anxiety deep inside of me that I didn’t even know I had.
“It’s beautiful,” she whispers reverently, staring down at the large diamond.
“It was my grandmother’s. If you don’t like it, we can—”
“No. No, I love it. It’s perfect,” she gasps, clutching her hand protectively to her chest.
“Good. I didn’t really know her, but according to my mom, my grandmother inherited it from her mother, and she got it from her mother. All of them were happily married. My mom told me the ring was lucky and to give it to the woman I knew I wanted to spend the rest of my life with.”
“Are you sure you want—” Verity starts, but I kiss her to shut her up.
“It looks perfect on you. But it’d look even better if it was the only thing you were wearing,” I say with a smile, as I slowly tug her clothes off until she’s naked except for the diamond on her finger.
“Now that’s perfect,” I purr as I lift her into my arms and lay her down on our bed.