Chapter 19
Goldie
Dressed in a similar navy blue version of the sweater dress Davis purchased for me, my hair clean and tamed as it hangs loosely down my back for once, I’m nervous as he pulls up to the adorable little green wood house. This is our first outing as a supposed real couple , and Davis is officially introducing me to the nail-spitter and the woman who helped me get away from Mrs. Fitzroy. The phrase small world comes to mind, seeing as how we were all in Dallas, yet they live here and have been close friends with Davis for years, ever since he and Wyatt switched jobs. If it hadn’t been for Wyatt, I probably never would have met Davis, and my life would, more than likely, be in the shitter.
Warm light spills out onto the lawn in the dusky evening from the open front door as soon as we cross the lawn and climb the few steps onto the porch. I make this little gasping sound and point to the wooden porch swing they have hanging from the low ceiling at the side with green and linen-colored pillows for lounging.
I tap Davis’s arm and point to the swing. “Think we could get one of those for our porch?”
Davis rubs the small of my back and kisses my temple, dressed in a nicer version of his western wear with yet another dark red plaid button-down tucked into starched, dark blue jeans. “I like the sound of that—‘our porch’. We can look for one after our appointments tomorrow if you’re not too tired.”
Pleasure works its way up my spine, and I tip my head back, inviting a kiss on the lips. Davis removes his ball cap, wraps his arms around Lily and me, and pulls us closer. I get the feeling he wants to drag me back to our house so we can take this kiss further. I kind of want to let him.
“Aren’t y’all just the cutest.” We break apart at the feminine southern drawl from the older woman with shockingly white hair, though Davis leaves his hand where it is, having traveled to the top of my ass. “Oooh, let me see that sweet baby of yours,” she says, stepping out of the house in her light blue sweater set and matching pants.
Though she’s nothing like Mrs. Fitzroy with her skin kissed by the sun, a good foot and a half taller, and she doesn’t look half starved, I still feel protective. I keep Lily firmly cradled in my arms, and thankfully, the woman doesn’t attempt to take her from me.
“Hi there, honey. I’m Ellie Roberts, Wyatt’s mama. You’re Marigold?” I nod, and there’s nothing but warmth in her touch when she pats my hand and leans in to look at Lily in her pink fleece outfit patterned with mini smiling cherries. “She’s just about the prettiest little girl I’ve ever seen. And that red hair!” She looks directly into my eyes, the skin around hers deeply creased from smiling so much throughout her life. “Gorgeous, just like her mama.”
I instantly like her. When I thank her for the compliment and call her Mrs. Roberts , she straightens and pats Davis on the cheek. “Davis is like family, which means you are, too, so how about you call me Ellie?”
I may have lived in Nevada for half my life, but I was raised by a southern woman, and I can envision the glare Aunt Lydia would give me if I were to call an older woman by just her first name. She gives me an approving smile when I say, “Thank you, Ms. Ellie.”
Ms. Ellie motions us in to follow her, voices rising as we approach the brightly painted white kitchen. “Look who’s here,” she announces, and the group turns toward us as one. It’s a bit like walking into a classroom on the first day of attending a new school, and everyone stops and stares.
A bushy, dark-bearded Wyatt, dressed like a blue-collar emo in his dark flannel, black jeans, and huge steel-toe boots, takes his dark-blond son, William Davis, into his arms, relieving Dolly of his hefty weight. She rubs her back over her black and white polka dot maternity dress as she comes around the farmhouse-style kitchen table and pulls me into a tight hug, smelling like strawberries, her pregnant belly pressed against my empty one—a fact that leaves me feeling slightly envious, though I don’t want to examine that too closely.
“I’m glad you made it home safely. We were worried about you,” Dolly says, squeezing me before stepping back.
With Davis by my side in the chaotic but cozy environment, I finally lose some of the tension I’ve been walking around with ever since Davis came home after his conversation with Russell and told me we were having dinner with his friends.
Dolly, who looks maybe a few years older than me, with plump cheeks and expressive blue eyes, introduces me to her mom, Ms. Judy, who has taken over stirring whatever is in the pot at the stove. She’s the older, graying version of her daughter, wearing light blue jeans with a simply white T-shirt tucked into the waistband. Strangely, Ms. Judy only looks to be a few years older than Dolly’s husband. She’s also much more timid than Ms. Ellie. Still warm in her welcome but quieter.
Ms. Judy flinches and immediately puts a hand to her chest when Ms. Ellie appears behind her to hand her a porcelain gravy boat. Ms. Ellie’s face softens as she pulls Ms. Judy into a hug, murmuring something too low for me to hear. It’s clear the two women are close, and damn if that doesn’t make me a little envious too. There’s so much love in this kitchen, and I wish I had women like this in my life. It makes me miss Aunt Lydia and her friends from the Stitch ‘N Bitch crochet club all the more. She would have been right at home here.
When Dolly asks if she can hold Lily, I’m relaxed enough to hand her over, though I hover nearby in case I need to snatch her and run. Dolly brings Lily to her ample chest and nuzzles her cheek, gushing about her red hair. Wyatt, who clapped hands with Davis after introductions, gives his wife a hot look that I recognize all too well. My cheeks flame right alongside Dolly’s.
She rolls her eyes and sweeps her hand over her belly. “I’m already pregnant.”
“Just how I like you, babygirl,” Wyatt responds with a husky voice. He has to bend almost in half to give Dolly a lengthy kiss right there in the middle of the kitchen with his giant hand on her giant belly and their giant son in his arms.
Davis steps behind me and pulls me against his chest, embracing me. Whether he’s conscious of it or not, one of his hands has come to rest over my belly, still soft and swollen after giving birth not even two months ago. My first impulse is to suck in my stomach, but I’m pretty that would lead to a spanking or two for thinking bad about myself .
I do it anyway.
Davis slips a hand between us to pinch my left asscheek. He whispers in my ear, “That’s one, baby.”
I step away from him, belly fluttering wildly, hoping no one can sense the desire welling inside me. I ask Wyatt if I can hold his son to take my mind off Davis and the promise of what he will do to me tonight. My knees almost give out when I place the boy on my hip, and Dolly giggles.
Straightening William’s black sweatshirt that has ridden up over his belly, I tickle his ribs to get him to smile. “How old is he?”
“He just turned two,” Wyatt proudly says, puffing out his chest.
My jaw drops. “Two? I thought he was—” I shut my mouth, fearing I might have offended them. By the time William is three years old, he might already be half my height, if not a little taller. My arms strain to hold him, and I drop into a chair at the long kitchen table that Davis pulls out for me so I can hold him more comfortably on my lap.
The sweet boy points to Lily with a smile. “Baby.” He tugs on my hair and points to Lily again. “Baby red.”
Dolly brings Lily closer and lowers her so William can see her better. “Say ‘hi’ to your new friend, Lily.”
“Hi.” William leans forward on my lap and gives Lily a slobbery kiss on the cheek that she squirms away from, and he pats her head a little too hard.
“Gentle hands,” Dolly says.
William opens his mouth in an O and lightly pets her hair. He whines and reaches for Lily when Dolly straightens, making gimme hands until Dolly lowers her again.
“Alright, who’s hungry?” Ms. Ellie, with Wyatt’s help, starts plopping steaming dishes of pot roast, mashed potatoes with homemade gravy, roasted carrots, dinner rolls, and a side salad on the table. There’s hardly space left for our dinner plates and glasses of ice-cold sweet tea.
Dolly passes Lily to Davis, puts William in a highchair pushed up to the table, and then eases herself onto the seat across from me with Wyatt opposite Davis.
“Here, I’ll take her,” I say to Davis after dishing up a full plate of food for him, and he twists away from me in his seat. “You go on and eat, honey. I’m not ready to give my girl up yet. Ain’t that right, Lily Jo? You want Daddy to hold you, don’t you?”
Wyatt snorts as he loads up Dolly’s plate first while she’s busy cutting the pot roast into smaller pieces for William. Davis looks up, the whole table focused on him. “‘Daddy’, huh? Russell called it, and now I owe him twenty bucks.”
Davis scowls. “Called what?”
“He said you brought home a pregnant hitchhiker who was ready to pop and looked at her like I look at my babygirl. Said you’d be looking for a new job soon.” I’m not sure I like being reduced to a pregnant hitchhiker , even if it is accurate. “And now here you are—a family man.”
“Oh, this is just wonderful!” Ms. Ellie claps her hands excitedly from her seat at the head of the table between Wyatt and Davis. “We’re four for four now.” When the table looks at her blankly, she ticks couples off on her fingers, starting with Davis’s parents. “Joann and Adam, then me and my William. Dolly and Wyatt, and now the two of you. One whirlwind romance after the next.”
Again, nothing but blank looks.
Ms. Ellie tsks. “Didn’t your father ever tell you the story about us? You know we used to date until your mama moved to town.”
Davis nods, slightly bemused, the same as Wyatt.
“Adam took one look at Joann and dropped me like a hot potato. I was pretty miffed about it, to be honest, until I met Wyatt’s Pops, William. All was forgiven that minute forward. Heck, I even thanked him for breaking it off with me, so I didn’t have to be the one to do it. When fate comes a-knocking and brings the person you’re meant to be with to your front door—or rather, to your truck door in your case and Wyatt’s—nobody else matters.”
Ms. Judy sniffs on my right, beside her grandson at the other end of the table. Dolly reaches across, placing her hand on her mom’s arm as Ms. Judy dabs at her eyes with a cloth napkin. Instead of giving her a sympathetic look like I expected, Dolly smiles with a twinkle in her eyes and says, “Might be time to finally accept that date Mr. Monroe keeps hounding you about. You deserve to be happy.”
Ms. Judy’s cheeks color. “He’s too young, you know that. What would he want with an old woman like me?”
“Rule number one: do not talk bad about yourself,” Davis interrupts, smiling down at Lily with her tiny fist wrapped around his index finger.
“What’s rule number two?” Dolly asks with her blonde brows raised with mirth, her gaze bouncing between me and the crazy man sitting beside me. Davis clams up. Dolly raises a hand to the side of her mouth, pretending no one can see or hear her, when she loudly whispers to me, “You can tell me later. I want to hear all about Davis’s rules.”
My mouth goes dry, and my pulse starts to race when Davis palms my bare knee under the table, sliding his hand up to caress the middle of my thigh. There’s no way I’m telling anyone about our Daddy role-playing. Dolly would look at me like I’m nuts or we’re gross, and I don’t want to spoil the potential friendship that seems to be budding between us.
I give her a noncommittal sound between bites of my tender pot roast, which she takes for assent, then swings her attention back to her mom. “Ten years is hardly ‘too young’, Mom. Besides, age is just a number around here. If you don’t call Mr. Monroe after dinner, I’m doing it for you.”
Wyatt drapes his arm over Dolly’s shoulders after pulling her chair up against his, their size and age difference even more pronounced.
Curiosity gets the better of me. “How many years between the two of you?”
“Nineteen. He’s old enough to be my dad,” she says teasingly. She nods at Davis. “How old are you? I don’t think I’ve ever asked.”
Davis clears his throat after chugging half of his sweet tea. “I’m thirty-four.”
“And you?” she asks me.
“Nineteen,” I squeak out.
Dolly grins. “So he’s technically old enough to be your dad, too. Who knew we’d have so much in common?”
Wyatt winks at Davis, who chokes on his carrots, eating one-handed. Ms. Ellie and Wyatt both roar with the same laugh while I pound on Davis’s back until he can swallow.
“I’ll have to introduce you to Granny’s Girls soon,” Dolly says, wiping tears of laughter from her pretty blue eyes after getting a look at Davis’s red face. “Let them know we have a new best friend.”
My heart swells, and I’m pretty sure I’m half in platonic love with her. “Granny’s Girls?”
“Violet, Faye, Layla, and I all worked at Granny’s diner. That’s how we met. Hey, since you’re new in town, if you’re in the market for a job as a waitress, let me know. One of my besties has an in with the boss, and she can hook you up if you’re interested.”
“Yes!” I burst out, excited at the prospect of earning my own money so I can pay Davis back. “I was waitressing before moving here, so I have plenty of experience. That would be perfect.”
Dolly’s smile slowly fades, and she sets her fork down on her plate, sits back in her chair, crosses her arms over her belly, and arches a challenging brow at Davis. Following her gaze, I look up to find Davis pursing his lips above his stubbly chin after shaving off his beard yesterday.
“I know that look,” Dolly mutters.
Ms. Ellie sits back in her chair, crossing her arms as well. “Don’t I know it,” she drawls.
Wyatt looks like he’s going to fall out of his seat from trying so hard to hold back his laughter. “Brother, you’re about to get an earful with these two if you think you have any say about Marigold’s job. Just you wait.”
Before either of us can respond, Lily starts crying and rooting against Davis’s chest.
“Oh, I know that look, too,” Dolly says, her face relaxing once more.
Taking Lily from Davis, I ask, “Is there somewhere I can nurse her in private?”
“Sure thing,” Dolly says. “I’ll show you to the nursery.” Wyatt hops up to pull Dolly’s chair back and helps her up. She tips her head for me to follow her out of the kitchen and down the hall when Davis does the same for me, though I don’t need help getting out of my chair as Dolly does in her state.
I sit back in the massive rocking armchair with Lily in my arms once Dolly closes the nursery door behind her. My mind is spinning as I unzip the hidden zipper in my dress under my breasts and bring Lily to my chest. It’s like my whole world, which had narrowed to a pinprick, has suddenly expanded exponentially. These people clearly care a lot for Davis and, by proxy, me as well, no questions asked. And if Dolly follows through on her promise to introduce me to her friends and I start working at Granny’s, my world and Lily’s will be that much bigger.
I hum Amarillo By Morning by George Strait as I finish burping Lily, then stop abruptly once I open the nursery door. Dolly is pushed up against the wall further down the narrow hallway, supported by Wyatt with his hands under her butt and her legs hiked on either side of his wide waist. I’m so impressed by the fact he’s able to hold her up like that with her huge belly between them that I forget to look away.
Wyatt kisses down the side of her face to her neck. Her eyes are closed, facing me, lips parted with a moan. “You’re so needy, aren’t you, babygirl? Bet you’re already dripping wet for me.”
Dolly moans louder and attempts to roll her hips, her dress falling away from her thighs. “Oh god, yes, Daddy. I need you inside me.”
My mouth falls open. Holy shit! She called him Daddy . She’d be the last to judge me if I told her about Davis and me.
“Fuck me, babygirl. I can’t wait to get you alone tonight. Gonna stretch your perfect pregnant pussy so good, you’ll be praying for Daddy to breed you again.”
Fire ignites in my cheeks, and I must make some kind of noise because they both snap their gazes at me. Wyatt drops his head on Dolly’s shoulder, and Dolly slaps a hand over her mouth, her eyes huge. He slowly lets her slide down to the floor, rearranges her dress to cover her thighs, and grunts out an excuse. He turns away from us, no doubt adjusting himself in his jeans, before disappearing into another room.
“I’m so sorry,” Dolly says with fluttery hands. “He—I—”
“Davis’s second rule is ‘do not give Daddy attitude’,” I blurt.
Dolly’s eyes light up with delight, and then her slim brows crash together. “Don’t let Wyatt hear you say that. He’ll get ideas.”
“Already heard, babygirl,” Wyatt says, poking his head out with a smirk pointed her way. “We’ve got some things to talk about tonight.” He winks before disappearing again.
Dolly groans, and I squeak out, “Sorry.”
Davis
After dinner and putting William to bed in the room across from Lily asleep in the nursery’s crib, we take the baby monitors and our slices of homemade key lime pie out to eat around the newly dug fire pit in Wyatt’s large backyard, a circle of wooden Adirondack chairs positioned at a safe distance from the fire. It’s a brisk night, and I tuck a white fleece blanket around Goldie before taking the chair next to her.
The easygoing mood from dinner abates as I fill the group in on the Fitzroy situation after Dolly brings up what happened at the restaurant in Dallas.
Wyatt’s face turns hard as the story goes on. “You need to get yourself an alarm system. It won’t stop her if she comes for Lily again, but at least the police will be notified immediately.”
“Already have one, but without cameras, we don’t have any physical evidence of the altercation before Sheriff Gibson showed up,” I grumble. “Just our statements.”
Troubled by the fear on Goldie’s face, Ms. Judy asks, “You have the security footage from the restaurant, though, right?”
“Sheriff says he’s working on getting it. In the meantime, they’ve got her on trespassing charges, assault on a police officer, and resisting arrest, though she somehow bailed out almost immediately.” To say we were unhappy when Sheriff called earlier with that update, plus the fact that Fitzroy was told to stick around instead of going back to Nevada, is an understatement.
“Shit.” Wyatt shakes his head, then points to the cameras positioned on the corners of his house and the one above their backdoor. “I’ll get you set up with better security in case the crazy bitch comes back.”
Ms. Ellie asks, “What about Lily’s father? Does he know what his mother is doing? Do you think he’s going to try to get custody of Lily, too?”
It’s like a hot iron poker being dragged down my back hearing someone else referred to as Lily’s father. She’s my daughter. She’ll always be mine. “As far as we know, no.”
Delicately, Ms. Judy asks Goldie, “Do you want him to?”
Goldie sniffs and shakes her head. “I know he has the right to see her, but if he gets involved…I’m terrified Colton’s mom will pursue establishing paternity and try to get full custody. She’s already made the threat and has the money to back it up. I-I can’t lose Lily.”
Dolly frowns, readjusting her red cardigan over her chest. “Establish paternity? So he’s not on her birth certificate?”
The only time I’ve felt like smiling since we came outside is when I tell them, “I’m on Lily’s birth certificate. Unless I’m court-ordered to take a paternity test—which we’re hoping to avoid—legally, I am her father.”
To Goldie, Dolly asks with wide eyes, “Didn’t you meet like a day or two before you gave birth?”
Goldie bites her bottom lip and nods. “Davis filled out her birth certificate with his information without my permission while I was asleep.”
Dolly tsks and cuts a narrowed gaze at Wyatt. “Sounds like something you would do.”
Wyatt cracks a grin and says with zero shame, “Yeah, it is.”
Goldie drops her face in her hands, crying softly when she gives them more backstory about her relationship with Colton and her fear of them painting her out to be an unfit mother. Of them winning their case if the judge thinks Lily would be better off with them instead of her when she’s shacking up with a random man. Ever since Mrs. Fitzroy threw that phrase at her, it’s been on an endless loop in her head.
Dolly tries to stand from her chair to go to her, but I get there first, plucking Goldie out of her seat and sitting with her on my lap. Tucking the blanket tighter around her, she curls into me, her tears wetting my collar.
I make eye contact with Wyatt over the fire, his expression menacing as he fists one hand on his lap and uses the other to link hands with Dolly. “You know what you need to do, brother.”
Yeah, I do. Standing with Goldie in my arms, I ease her to her feet, then kiss her when she tips her chin up, her beautiful eyes so sad. I cup her face, deepening the kiss for a few moments before sliding my hands down her arms to hold her hands, then dropping to a knee before her.
One of the women gasps as Goldie brings her trembling right hand to her mouth while I hold onto her left. “Goldie—”
Her face falls, and she pulls her hand away. “Oh my god, this is crazy. Get up.”
I don’t. “If we get married, we’ll have a stronger legal standing with the court.” I throw in offhandedly, though I’m anything but, “And you wouldn’t have to work at the diner or anywhere else. I’d take care of you like I have been so you can stay home with Lily.”
She scrunches her nose. “As romantic as that sounds,” she says with a hint of sarcasm, “what happens in ten years when you realize you’ve made a mistake marrying someone you’ve known all of six weeks—five of which you weren’t even here—and want a divorce?”
“That’s not going to happen,” I rumble, reaching for her hand. “Rule number three: divorce is not an option.”
“Good rule,” Wyatt murmurs in the background.
I lower my voice for only Goldie to hear. “Need me to remind you what I said yesterday?”
Goldie swallows. “Yesterday?”
“In the living room.” I raise my brow.
“That was just…pillow talk,” she says warily, leaning back.
“Pillow talk?” I damn near shout, getting to my feet when Goldie yanks her hand away again and steps back quickly. “You think that was just—is this a joke?”
“Come on, kids. Let’s leave them to it,” Ms. Ellie says, ushering the hushed group away from the fire pit toward the house. Ms. Judy twists her hands and glances back at Goldie nervously.
“I would never lay my hands on her the way…” I trail off, speaking to Ms. Judy. Goldie doesn’t know about the abuse Dolly and her mother suffered at the hands of Dolly’s father before they escaped him, and it’s not my place to tell her. “Not in a million years. You have my word.”
Ms. Judy nods and allows Ms. Ellie to guide her away with her arm around Ms. Judy’s shoulders.
I approach Goldie slowly after the group is inside the house. Once I’m within arm’s reach, quick as a whip, I grab her by the waist and pull her into my chest. “Don’t think for one second that it was just pillow talk when I told you that you’re mine in every way. What we have is real.”
Goldie twists away and pushes her hands in her hair. “No! We weren’t thinking clearly. You’ve been home for two days, Davis. Two!”
Needing to hold her in my arms, I advance on her, and she quickly steps back away from the fire pit toward the shadows of the trees lining the back of Wyatt & Dolly’s property. For every one of my slow steps forward, she takes one step back.
“Goldie,” I growl.
“No! You’re going to listen to me. Here’s what’s real—If I go along with your plan and say yes to your crazy proposal…if we get married and I let you ‘take care of me’ instead of going back to work, and we have another kid or two…what happens when you meet someone you actually want to marry? When the whirlwind Ms. Ellie was talking about fizzles out, and you realize you’re tied down to me?”
“That’s it! I’ve heard enough.” I rush her, and at the last second, she squeaks and spins to sprint away from me, deeper into the dark woods. Bless her heart—with her short little legs, she doesn’t get too far ahead of me before I catch her around the waist, and we tumble to the ground. I crash to my knees and throw my hand out to break our fall so Goldie isn’t flattened to the leaf-littered dirt beneath my weight.
Goldie rips my hand from her waist, snarling like a feral animal, and crawls away on hands and knees, kicking her leg back to nail me in the chest with her new brown leather western boots that are sexier than any pair of high heels. I dodge her kick, then lunge forward to grab her around the hips, prop her up on her knees, then press a hand to the middle of her back to pin her chest to the ground.
She braces her hands and tries to push up when I shove my knees between her calves, but she’s not strong enough to fight me off. “Davis!” She digs her claws into the dirt when I quickly flip up the hem of her dress and yank her black panties down. She screams, “What are you doing?”
“Don’t you ever, ever , think that I’m going to regret being ‘tied down’ to you. If anyone’s tied down, it’s you, baby.” I rip my zipper down and force half the length of my angry cock inside her golden pussy. She screams and tilts her hips to take me deeper. Her pussy is so wet that the flash of terror at thinking I’ve gone back on my word to Ms. Judy and hurt Goldie passes in an instant. “Fuck!” I shout in ecstasy, yanking my hips back and thrusting home. “You’re so fucking wet and ready for me, baby. You’re mine .”
All of Goldie’s earlier resistance melts, and she rocks back to meet each of my hard thrusts. “Davis! Daddy! Oh god, yes!” she screams, and I fucking love it. Get high on it.
“That’s right. Scream as loud as you want for your Daddy. There’s no one around to hear you.”
And she does. God bless her, she does. Moaning and pleading for me to fuck her harder until she’s sobbing out her pleasure as her pussy ripples around my shaft with her orgasm.
I yank my cock out before she can milk my cum right out of my balls. I flip her onto her back, then pull her knees apart to make room for my hips while she breathes raggedly. There’s a smear of black dirt on her cheek, with small twigs and dried leaves clinging to her hair. So fucking sexy.
I rip the zipper under her tits across and shove the material up her chest, yank down the cups of her nursing bra, and suck a nipple deep into my mouth before shoving my cock in her dripping wet cunt. Goldie spears her fingers into my hair, pulling me closer as I draw huge mouthfuls of her milk into my mouth and drink it down, warming my belly.
I only draw back when I start to choke on her milk as it flows faster than I can swallow. I grab her jaw and push my tongue in her mouth so she can taste herself on me. She yanks on my hair so she can catch her breath, and that’s when I tell her, “I’m going to tie you down with baby after baby after baby for the next twenty fucking years.”
“What?!” She yanks harder on my hair, ripping a few strands out, and tries to squirm out from beneath me.
I grab the back of one knee and hike it up to press it closer to her shoulder, pinning her as I do my best to fuck her into another orgasm. “I’m going to trap you and me with as many kids as it takes for you to believe that I’m not just swept up in some temporary whirlwind. This, right here, you and me, is real and it’s for life. No regrets. No other women. And divorce will never be an option. I’m going to make you forget the word even exists.”
Her eyes are wild, the pupils blown wide in the hazy light of the moon. I crush her lips as I bury myself in her one more time as soon as she cums again. I flood her pussy with my release, grind my pelvis against hers to push my cum deeper with my cock, and pray that it’s not too soon for her to get pregnant.
I have the presence of mind to let Goldie’s leg drop to the side before my arms give out on me, and I collapse on top of her. We’re both breathing hard, and she shakes beneath me from what I’m guessing is a mix of adrenaline and frost in the air.
I slide my arms under her and hug her close with my face pressed into her neck, hoping to warm her with my body heat. “Marry me, baby,” I say quietly, my lips brushing against her racing pulse point. “Not just because it’ll help our custody case if it comes to that, but because you know we belong together. You and me—it’s real, baby. We’re real.”
Not even half a second later, Goldie slides her hands up my sides and around my back, her arms trembling as she tightens them as much as she can. She turns her face into mine and cries even harder than when I took her on the kitchen island yesterday.
I lean back some and cup her face. “Honey?”
“Yes.” She nods and says it again, tears slipping down her temples. “I’ll marry you.”