Chapter 40
Gracyn
Six months later
“H ow many times do you masturbate each week?”
Did he really just ask me that? I poke my head out the bathroom door, my jaw dropping when I find him lounging on my bed.
“Excuse me, sir, but that is personal.”
He chuckles, waving a bullet vibrator in the air. “Just wondering how often this little thing gets a workout.”
“You are so invasive.” I rush over and take a leap over him to grab the toy.
He pulls it away, holding it out of reach. “I just want to know how often my wife is pleasing herself,” he teases, his tone smug as hell.
“Wife?” I snort, planting my hands on his chest as I straddle him, giving up the tug-of-war. I choose my next words carefully, knowing how he’ll react. “We fixed that problem months ago.”
His eyes widen, and the toy slips from his fingers, landing with a soft thud on the ground. In one smooth movement, he flips me on my back and pins me beneath him. “Woman,” he warns, tickling my side. “We don’t make jokes like that.”
I squirm under him, laughter spilling from my lips as I grab his hands, trying to fend him off. “Stop! You’re horrible!”
He hates that I went ahead with the annulment. He understood, but nevertheless, he’d rather have kept me legally bound to him. But that marriage meant nothing to me. A year later, I still don’t remember saying I do.
My actual wedding day will be one of the most important days of my life. Remembering is most important . I want to breathe in every second. All the excitement, the nerves, the overwhelming love when I see him for the first time, waiting for me. If we stayed married, the day wouldn’t be the same. It’d only be a show.
“Well, we don’t ask those types of questions either,” I fire back, pushing him off me with a laugh. I roll over, snatching the toy off the floor and tucking it into the drawer he shouldn’t have been snooping through in the first place.
He lies on the bed, sprawled out, arms tucked lazily behind his head, staring at me. His gaze trails me, heated and playful. “It’s sexy,” he says with a slow smirk, wagging his brows like a fool. “I kind of want to try it out now.”
I snort, shaking my head as I cross the room. “Not going to happen. Your ex-wife needs to get ready for tonight.”
He growls, pushing up on his elbows. “You love torturing me, don’t you?”
I grab the curling iron out of the bathroom and wrap the cord before tossing it in my overnight bag. “It’s become my favorite hobby.”
He scoots off the bed and saunters toward me with that lazy, confident stride that drives me crazy. God, I love him in a T-shirt and jeans. The fabric clings to his broad shoulders, and the dark denim sits low on his hips. My heart stutters as he closes the distance, stopping just short of touching me.
“You’re playing with fire, sweetheart.”
I lift my chin, licking my lips. His gaze flickers downward for a beat. “Maybe I like the heat.”
“Maybe,” he murmurs, as he runs his thumb over my wet bottom lip. “We skip tonight. And celebrate our year anniversary properly. I’ll give you all the heat you want.”
He steps closer, every sense I have on high alert.
Tonight marks a year since Vegas.
A year since my life flipped upside down.
“We can’t,” I exhale.
This is his event. His charity . There is no way he’d miss this. And I’d never ask him to.
His thumb lingers on my lip for a moment longer before he drops his arm.
“Who picked this night for the event?” he grumbles, wrapping his arm around my waist and pulling me into him.
I gasp, feigning shock. “What? The fortune teller you hired for your Christmas party last year didn’t predict your wedding night ?”
The fact that they had one is hilarious to me. Anabel told me about her over drinks one night, laughing so hard she had wine coming out of her nose. Apparently, the woman made the party very interesting. Predicting soulmates, dropping ominous warnings about death, and telling Jared he’d end up with two sets of twins. Anabel told me he fainted.
Brooks’s low chuckle vibrates against my chest. “I’ll have to file a complaint. She’s not as psychic as advertised.”
I lift a brow. “You never told me what she said to you.”
“She was full of shit.”
“Come on, tell me!”
With a slight shake of the head and a hint of amusement, he replies, “She told me I was going home with someone that night.” He rolls his eyes. “ Her , specifically.”
I snort, biting back a laugh. “And? Did you?”
“Hell no! She was a nutjob.”
I wrap my arms around his neck. “Glad to hear you have standards,” I tease.
“Oh, they’re sky-high. If only she could really predict the future, she would’ve tried stealing my drink. Apparently, that’s the secret to persuade me to marry someone.”
“If only I knew…”
“Gracyn,” he growls again, his lips dropping, eyes narrowing. “Your next words better not be that you wouldn’t have done it.”
My expression softens, staring at the man who is my forever. I might joke with him, but there’s not an ounce of regret.
I lift on my toes and give him a chaste kiss. “Never.”
* * *
Brooks: Is my wife ready?
Me: Girlfriend
Brooks: Tomato, tomato.
I chuckle, knowing what he’s trying to say, but it looks funny because it’s the same word.
Me: That’s the same thing.
Brooks: Exactly.
I walked into that one. “Your brother is relentless,” I say over to Addison, getting the finishing touches on her hair.
“I don’t take responsibility for anything that man says or does.” She tucks her hair behind her ear, much to the annoyance of the hairdresser. “But I’ve learned he gives one hundred percent to get his way.”
I’ve learned .
I send him a text back.
Me: Almost.
I put the phone down on the makeshift vanity and walk over to where our dresses hang, running my fingers over the silky fabric, remembering the last time I wore a red dress. The day I served annulment papers. It seems like forever ago.
Charli pushes off the couch, tightens her robe, and strolls over. We were the first ones finished with hair and makeup.
“I love your hair up,” she says. “It’s so sophisticated.”
Sydney’s people are absolute magicians. When she told us her glam team would do our hair and makeup, I might have squealed. I usually keep my hair down, but she convinced me to sweep it into a low, loose bun with a few strands framing my face. There’s a reason she’s the professional and I’m not.
“And look at yours! It’s never out of a ponytail.” Her long blond hair flows free with soft curls. She bends down and glances in the mirror again.
“I feel so girly,” she adds, running her fingers through the curls.
“Same,” Addison calls out with a playful grunt, sending Sydney a scowl.
Sydney rented the penthouse suite at the hotel for us to get ready. There are certainly days I have to pinch myself that this is my life now. This bedroom could fit four king-size beds, with floor-to-ceiling windows that offer an awe-inspiring view of the city below.
The event is being held across the street, at the children’s museum, which makes things easy. No traffic, no long drives. But there’s still a red carpet with a million cameras ready to go off.
“Wait,” Sydney calls out, blowing Zoe, her makeup artist, a kiss before jumping out of her chair. She rushes over to the table, pours six glasses of champagne, then hands one to everyone. “We have to make a toast before everyone gets dressed.”
She pretends to throw a croissant at Addison when she sees her and the hairdresser fighting over a piece of hair. When she clears her throat, Addison looks over, amusement lighting her face. I’m thinking she’s making her mad on purpose. Addison clearly isn’t the pampered type.
“Cheers to new friends,” she begins, raising her glass and flashing a warm smile at Charli and me. Her expression sharpens, and she turns to Addison. “Cheers to annoying ones.” Her pointed stare makes Addison laugh. “Cheers to a wonderful night of raising money for some beautiful kids in need,” she says, holding a hand to her heart. It’s still surreal being in the same room as her. She’s singing tonight at the gala, a night where people paid twenty thousand dollars per chair to attend. Of course, Brooks paid for mine and Charli’s tickets. “And cheers to a night to never forget.”
She winks at me, but before I have a chance to question what that was for, everyone lifts their glass and echoes, “Cheers.” I follow suit, raising my glass.
“Um,” Addison says, waving her phone in her hand. “Brooks texted and said he’s on his way up.”
“What?” I panic, looking down at my robe. Why is he rushing me? I pull the dress off the hanger and step into it. Charli helps me zip it up. I take a deep breath as the silky fabric settles against me. The one-sleeve, burgundy red gown is elegant yet sexy, hugging every curve.
“Wow,” Charli murmurs, stepping backward, her eyes wide with approval. “Your man has fantastic taste.”
I bite my lower lip, glancing at myself in the mirror. I’d asked Brooks to pick out my dress, and he absolutely did not disappoint. When he invited me to the gala, my insecurities got the best of me. I’d worried I wouldn’t live up to the picture-perfect image expected in his world. I’d been a fool because that wasn’t me at all, but I had already asked. The last six months, he’s eased me into his world, but this is the first extravagant event I’ll be attending. His event. So all eyes will be on us all evening.
Yay, me.
I spin, running my hands down the sleek sides of the dress.
Sydney whistles and then breaks out into a song, “Something about the way you’re smiling…” Her voice lifts with a teasing grin as she continues to sing Jason Aldean’s “Tonight Looks Good On You.”
“…I just gotta tell you, baby, tonight looks good on you.”
Caught between awe and surprise, I can’t believe Sydney sang to me. I want to tell her to keep going, but a knock at the door stops me.
The door opens, and Graham, Sydney’s manager, peeks his head in. “Hey, multiple sweet cheeks,” he announces, then finds me. “Your date is here.” He turns to Sydney and points sternly. “And you … stop singing. You’ve got a concert in an hour. Save your voice.”
She salutes him and flops in her chair with an exaggerated flair, mumbling “bossy.”
I grab my clutch and double-check I have everything I need. Lipstick? Phone? Nerves? Check. Check. Check.
Turning to the mirror one last time, the thought of Brooks in the other room sends a flutter through me that I can’t quite calm.
“Love you guys,” I say, blowing kisses toward the room. “See y’all soon.”
Brooks turns at the soft click of the door behind me, his posture straightening as our eyes meet. He was mid-conversation with Max by the windows, but his words died on his lips. His gaze travels at a slow pace, taking every inch of me in from head to toe. I catch a hitch in his breath, making my heart skip a beat. He looks drop-dead gorgeous in his tailored tux, the epitome of power and elegance, his presence commanding, yet effortless.
Graham sneaks a quick peek from the couch but continues tapping away on his laptop with extreme focus, as though nothing short of an earthquake, or Sydney singing , could pull him away.
Max clears his throat, tapping Graham on the shoulder. “We’re just gonna, uh, check on security. Make sure everyone’s ready.”
“Right,” Graham says, snapping his laptop shut and standing. They head for the door, leaving Brooks and me in the charged silence of the room.
“Wow,” Brooks mouths, closing the space between us. “You look exquisite. Breathtaking.”
“Thank you,” I say, running my fingers down his silk lapel. “I like this tux. Especially on you.”
His eyes darken, the intensity of them sending a wave of heat through me. His hands settle on my waist, his fingers pressing in just enough to make my pulse quicken. “Are you sure we have to go to this thing?”
“Considering you’re one of the hosts, that would be a yes. Are your parents and Presley on their way?”
“Mm-hmm,” he hums, ignoring my attempt to cool things down. He leans in and pulls in a whiff of my perfume, and his lips graze my bare neck, leaving a featherlight kiss that sends a shiver down my spine. “Damn,” he murmurs, pulling back enough to meet my eyes. “You’re going to hypnotize me all night.”
I bite my lip, the blush deepening. “You’re impossible.”
“Impossibly lost without you.”
My eyes soften at his words. “God, I love you,” I say, pressing my palm against the scruff of his beard.
He captures my fingers, his thumb brushing over my knuckles as he steps back. My brows knit together, wondering what he’s doing. Until he slips his hand into his pocket, then drops to one knee.
Is he …? My heart races. My free hand flies to my mouth as my eyes widen in shock.
“Brooks…” I manage a whisper, my voice barely audible.
He looks up at me, his expression certain with unwavering love, and holds up a large sparkling diamond ring that catches the light just right. Tears prickle my eyes as I stare down at him.
This is really happening.
“There’s not a day goes by that I didn’t think about this moment,” he begins, his voice thick with emotion. “I know I’m far from perfect, but you make me a better man. With you by my side, my world feels complete.”
His gaze locks on mine, unguarded and raw, and my breath catches in my throat.
“When you thought I wanted to own the woman I married, I want you to always remember this. This very moment. When I’m here, on bended knee, in front of you, asking, no, begging , you to marry me. To choose me. I could never own you, Gracyn. You have it backward. You own me. You have since the second you turned around in that coffee shop.”
My heart’s about to burst as his words wrap around me like a warm blanket. I sniff, smiling obnoxiously at the man in front of me.
“Gracyn,” he says, holding my trembling left hand, “will you marry me? Will you be my wife forever?”
My heart screams the answer before I can say it aloud. My lips part, a soft gasp escaping as I nod my head. “Yes,” I murmur. “Yes, I’ll marry you.”
His eyes light up, and his grin spreads wide as he slides the ring onto my finger, and I can’t stop staring at it. It’s stunning, delicate but bold. A perfect fit in every way.
He jumps up and lifts me in his arms, twirling me around, laughter bubbling out of me.
“She said yes!” he yells.
Doors swing open from both directions, and cheers and applause fill the room. I’d forgotten we weren’t alone. The girls swarm me to check out the ring. The guys pat Brooks on the back, congratulating him. Before I can catch my breath and let my head catch up to my heart, Presley bursts into the room.
“Am I late?” she exclaims, tackling me with a hug. She picks up my left hand and lets out a high-pitched squeal, jumping up and down. “You said yes!”
“Of course I did, sweet girl.” I hit the jackpot for a stepdaughter. You always hear those horror stories about raising kids that aren’t your own, but Presley already feels like she’s mine. I spend as much time with her as I do with Brooks, and we’ve even created our own special date nights. They’re always filled with fun mommy-daughter adventures.
Brooks’s parents come through the open door, and right behind them are … my parents.
“Mom? Dad?” I gasp, my voice filled with shock and delight.
My mom rushes over and gives me a big hug, followed by my dad. “Brooks sent us tickets,” my mom explains, a knowing smile spreading across her face. “And we couldn’t miss this.” Her eyes drop to my hand.
I adoringly look at Brooks. My heart is so full, it’s hard to breathe. He stands there, looking calm, unbothered by all the chaos, and winks at me with easy confidence.
Why is he so damn sexy?
“Well, it’s about time,” Addison says, breaking the moment as she gives Brooks a quick hug.
“Right?” he replies. “Now she can stop arguing with me about calling her my wife .”
I arch a brow, unable to resist teasing. “It’s fiancée , now,” I correct, adding a playful lilt to my voice.
He drops his head, letting out a low laugh. “Stop making up names,” he huffs, still grinning, wrapping his arms around me. He lowers his mouth, placing a soft kiss on my lips. He lets it linger until my dad clears his throat.
“Sorry,” Brooks says, pulling back, his hazel eyes flaring with affection. “I can’t resist the taste of forever.”
“Eww,” Presley moans, slapping a hand over her eyes. “Is this what I have to deal with the rest of my life?”
The room erupts in laughter.
I have found my forever in this room.
And who knew all I had to do was steal a cup of coffee?