55. Kate
Chapter Fifty-Five
Kate
I woke to the smell of sea air and the solid weight of him wrapped around me.
His hand was on my stomach again. He probably didn’t even realise he was doing it, but it was always there.
Protective. Like he couldn’t let go. He hadn’t felt the baby kick yet, but I knew he was desperate for it.
He talked to him every day, telling him our plans, promising to show him the world, to teach him how to swing a racket and read him bedtime stories.
Every time, a lump rose in my throat, watching him slip into fatherhood with this quiet, devastating certainty.
This little one had no idea how lucky he already was.
My body still carried the night before. My thighs ached in the best way, and I could still feel him everywhere he’d touched. My lips were tender, still tingling from how hard he’d kissed me. I felt warm all over, deliciously sore, and more than a little smug.
And my ring finger? I still got giddy every time I looked at it.
I smiled before I even opened my eyes. I had no idea this was coming, but should have guessed it.
“Morning, fiancé,” I murmured, my voice still croaky and full of sleep.
“Mmm.” His voice was raspy and content. “Say it again.”
I twisted my hand up so it caught the light from the window. The ring sparkled like it knew it was the star of the show. A large, oval diamond on a gold band, elegant and just the right side of ridiculous.
“You’re going to regret letting me choose it,” he said, his voice still lazy with sleep, but eyes watching my face.
“I didn’t need a diamond the size of a grape,” I teased, rolling over to face him, tangling my legs into his.
“But I should’ve known. You propose in the Maldives and rail me like a man possessed; obviously the ring was going to be obscene.
But I adore it. And I love that you chose it.
” And I did. He knew I would never have let him buy such an expensive, huge ring if I’d had any sort of inkling.
But despite how obscenely priced this sparkler on my finger was, I fell completely in love with it.
His mouth curved. “I meant every word, you know? Still do.” His mouth met mine in a kiss that tasted of forever.
His hand slid under the covers just as a knock sounded at the door. He groaned, dramatically. “Rude.”
“Room service?” I grinned.
“Obviously. You need fuel. Last night was…athletic.”
I chucked a pillow at his face, laughing as he rolled out of bed, gloriously naked and sinfully smug. He tugged on a pair of shorts and crept to the door, muttering something about croissants and orange juice like he hadn’t absolutely ruined me twelve hours ago.
I took a second just to watch him. The tan. The back muscles. The complete lack of shame.
How the hell had this man become mine? He wheeled in a tray piled high with pastries, fruit, juices, and coffee before he climbed back into bed beside me like a golden retriever.
He started loading my plate like he was feeding royalty.
“You’re very smug,” I said, popping a strawberry between my lips.
“I’ve earned it. Put a ring on the woman of my dreams, gave her—what was it? At least three orgasms last night?”
“Jordan,” I groaned, my cheeks flushing.
“And got to wake up with her wrapped around me. It’s a top-tier day, baby.”
I kissed his shoulder, still grinning, then reached for my phone.
Gwen had messaged four times already. That woman had the intuition of a bloodhound. Either that, or she and Jordan had secretly been plotting this and she was in on the whole thing.
I snapped a photo of our hands tangled over the breakfast tray, the ring front and centre, coffee cups in the background, the ocean glittering just beyond the glass doors.
Me: Guess who said yes?
A minute later, Gwen FaceTimed.
“SHOW ME!” she shouted before the screen even loaded.
I held up my hand, and she practically screamed.
Jordan leaned into frame, bare chested and smug. “Morning, Gwenny.”
“You really proposed in the Maldives?” Gwen gaped. “You two are so disgustingly romantic, I could cry.”
I laughed. “I know, right?”
“I’m a lucky bastard,” Jordan said, kissing my temple. “And she’s stuck with me now.”
“Oh, I need that story in full later,” Gwen said. “With details.”
I arched a brow. “You sure you want those kinds of details?”
“Oh, God no. Yuck. Just…the romantic ones. The ring. The speech. The ‘forever’ bit. All of it.” She softened. “I’m so happy for you, babe. You did good, Taylor.”
Jordan squeezed my hand, his eyes never leaving mine. “Don’t I know it.”
We said goodbye to Gwen, then hung up.
“She knew, didn’t she?” I smiled coyly.
“Oh, of course she did.”
He held up his hands, still grinning. “Look, your dad I can win over with sport banter, but Gwen…” He raised an eyebrow. “Imagine me proposing without asking her permission?”
I laughed, shaking my head. “So that’s what all those secretive little chats were about.”
“Had to cover my bases.” He leaned closer, brushing his mouth slowly against mine. “Didn’t want to risk you saying no.”
I snorted. “As if you ever doubted yourself that much.”
“Not about me.” His thumb traced slow circles over my ring. “About you. You’ve been through enough. I needed Gwen’s stamp of approval to make sure I wasn’t pushing too fast.”
My chest tightened, the teasing falling away as I pressed my forehead against his. “Jordan…you never had to convince me. You’re it for me.”
For a moment, neither of us said anything. The only sound was the waves brushing the shore beyond our balcony doors. Then his mouth curved again, lighter now. “Good. Because you’re stuck with me. And the baby. And probably more babies, if I have any say.”
“Don’t start,” I warned, though I was laughing again as he stole another croissant off the tray.
“Too late.” He grinned around a mouthful, reaching over to wipe a smear of jam from the corner of my lips with his thumb before kissing me again. “Forever starts now, baby.”