Chapter 47
brIELLE
“Are we here to get naughty photos taken together?” I ask while Roman struggles with the door.
The studio he took me to is the same one where I had my boudoir shoot, only now, there’s no light streaming through the front gallery window that’s been boarded up on the inside.
Curiosity tickles the back of my brain as I press my front to his back and peek over to see him twisting the key into the lock for the third time.
“No, we’re not here for that,” he says with a sigh.
“Thank God. Our faces are far too puffy for pictures.”
His laugh cuts through the quiet street. “Help me with the door.”
“Well, since you asked so nicely.”
I bump his hip to make space for me to step in. When I steal the key from him, he pinches my ass cheek, making me squeak.
“You’re feeling spectacularly bratty this afternoon. Is there a reason for that?” His voice dips low as his lips find the back of my ear. “I’m already hanging on by a thread, Brielle.”
I fail to smother my smile and let it blow out across my face instead. “Mm, other than the fact it’s been almost seven days since I’ve had you inside of me?”
“Open the door before I get us both public indecency charges.”
“You’re not helping with your dirty talk.”
“I’m so fucked with you,” he whispers, but there’s no worry there. No regrets.
That lift at the end of his sentence is pure adoration.
“How else are we supposed to keep each other young? You especially,” I tease, letting my ass press back against his groin as I successfully unlock the door.
His palm wraps around my hip, the heat of it burning through the athletic fabric. “Get inside, brat.”
“But you feel so good right here.”
“Brielle,” he groans, nipping at the shell of my ear. “Now.”
I laugh and finally take a step back to open the door. He follows closely behind me, not straying as we venture into the dark studio. Suddenly, the lights turn on, and I blink quickly to adjust to the brightness.
“Okay, you have me here. Now what?”
“Patience,” he purrs before finally leaving me standing alone at the centre of what I thought was an art gallery.
I examine the empty walls that months ago were covered with bright paintings and these almost waxy-looking sculpted pieces.
The desk I remember seeing an old woman standing behind is gone, leaving only a dusty outline behind.
Come to think of it, even the paint on the walls is brighter where paintings once hung.
This place was emptied recently enough that the new owner hasn’t had a chance to clean it up.
Panic burns my stomach lining. “Evie’s still working upstairs, right? Did she get kicked out? I swear to God I will get her back in here, Roman—”
“She’s still upstairs, baby. Petal wouldn’t have dared move her, and not because she was scared you’d find out where she lived and beat her up. She’s eighty-three, by the way. In case you were still thinking about it.”
I spin on the heels of my sneakers and glare at where Roman’s standing near the huge window. I was wrong about it being boarded up. It’s a dark brown paper hung on the inside of it instead, keeping the inside of the building invisible to those on the street.
“I’d take the judgment and still give her a few swats if she upset Evie. Old woman or not,” I say stubbornly. “Who even is this Petal?”
His plump lips curl at the corners as he crosses his arms and holds my stare.
“I have no doubt that you would. You care for my niece in a way that makes me love you more. Even if that means you’d beat up a poor old woman on her behalf.
The same one who’s been a bit of a mother hen for both me and Evie for the last decade or so. ”
“I’ll have you know that some of the biggest jerks I’ve ever met are above the age of seventy.”
“We’re not here to talk about old folks, Brielle,” he lightly scolds, clearly trying to keep me on course.
“Tell me the reason, then.”
“If I were to ask you to describe the next ten years, what would you say?”
I narrow my eyes. “Is this a test?”
“No. No test, sweetheart. Just tell me the truth.”
“Alright,” I start, lowering my hands to my hips.
“If you were to ask me that, I’d say that I want to be married to you and living in that big, beautiful house of yours, although only if you let me bring an interior decorator in or something.
It’s so boring, Roman. Seriously, it could use some colour. ”
He lowers his arms to his sides as he nods, watching me carefully with the softest eyes I’ve ever seen.
“Next, I want to get Soft Body off the ground. I know I need a real website and to get shots done of all the clothes I’ve got piling up in my closet. It’s like a land mine in there.”
He only tips his chin, encouraging me to continue.
“And . . . everything else I already have. I’d like to see the rest of the guys happy, too.
Especially my brother. He deserves to find love.
Oh! And obviously, Aubrey and Finn to be married, too.
Somewhere out of the country, because Finn’s filthy rich, and if there’s one proper way to spend all that money, it’s on a wedding worthy of my best friend. ”
“What about your wedding?” are his first words to me.
“Our wedding, you mean?” I correct with a teasing smirk.
He starts toward me. “I want to have it somewhere in Vancouver so everyone can attend. Plus, then we can spend more on the actual venue and decorations rather than flying everyone somewhere. And we both know I’m going to be a Bride-zilla.
I’ve got standards, Roman. Very high ones. ”
“Mm, you do,” he agrees, only an arm’s length away now.
“What about your future?”
“I’m looking at it.”
I roll my lips together, a rough wave of emotion crashing into me. “That was an incredibly romantic thing to say.”
Silence fills the studio. He wraps his hands around mine and brings them to rest against his sternum.
I stare at the size difference of our fingers as they interlock and feel a familiar fluttering sensation erupt in my belly.
It’s far from the first time I’ve felt this way around him, but it never gets any less incredible.
“I can give you everything in that plan, Brielle. And the things that I can’t guarantee, I promise you that I’ll try and find a way to give them to you. You deserve a life where you have everything you want. That’s my future, and it’s the only one I see for myself.”
I blink away the tears blurring my vision and nod, squeezing his suddenly chilled fingers to warm them. But then he pulls his right one out of my grasp, and I furrow my brows, my confusion already on the tip of my tongue.
He digs that hand into the back pocket of his jeans before lowering himself to one knee.
“My future used to look like empty, beige walls and long nights spent hunched over my office desk. I refused myself happiness for a long time because I didn’t think I deserved it.
My world revolved around Evie and making sure she had everything she needed, but then you came along.
You showed me what it’s like to not only love, but to be loved.
I want a future with splashes of colour on those empty walls because you’ve already coloured my present, and I’ve never seen anything as beautiful as my days with you.
You’re everything I feared to want for myself, and I promise you that I will give you that future, starting right here, in this studio.
Soft Body needs a place to grow, baby. And I think this is it.
“It needs a lot of work, but you’ve got the help.
You can put those creepy mannequins over by the window and a huge pink desk in the centre of the room with your sewing machine and all of your peach pincushions.
I’ll paint the walls for you and lay new floors.
And the entire time, Evie will be right upstairs, waiting until you’re ready for her to take the photos for that website you were talking about. ”
“Roman—”
He shakes his head, clutching onto my hand like he’s afraid I might bolt any moment, when really, my knees are trembling so badly I might collapse.
“This place is yours, and mine, and Evie’s.
It’s ours. And that’s how I want to start this life with you, like a real family.
I’m making this promise to you right now while I ask you to marry me, Brielle Hayes.
Your brother has already given me his approval, because I knew you wouldn’t say yes without it.
I made him a few promises, too, along with Beck and Finn.
Aubrey made your brother look like a teddy bear by the time she was done with me. ”
I choke on a sob, nodding without being asked anything yet.
Roman’s grin is blinding when it appears in front of me.
“Be my wife, Brielle. Make me the happiest fucking man on this planet and let me be your husband.”
I don’t look at the ring. It doesn’t matter. He catches me when I launch myself into his arms and knock us both down to the ground.
“Fuck yes,” I declare.
His low, raspy voice floods my chest with warmth as I take his face into my hands and kiss him with all my strength. He weathers the blow without hesitation and slips the ring onto my finger. I grin against his lips and loop my arms around his neck before he starts reclining to the ground.
“Mrs. Roman Shore has a nice ring to it,” I sing, testing it out for the first time.
“Say that again in about two minutes.”
“Why?”
“Because the next time you speak those words, it’s going to be with your fiancé buried inside of you.”