Jackson
I've never almost come from a sentence before in my life, but holy shit.
I crash my mouth into hers and she moans into it, and a year of trying to live without this woman goes straight to hell. Suddenly I'm a junkie relapsing, mainlined after a year of white-knuckle sobriety, and I already know I'll never beat this addiction. I never want to.
I reach under her floating dress, gather a handful of lace and rip, sending her panties drifting off somewhere behind me as my hand moves between her thighs and I slide my fingers through her slick heat, wiggling the barbell against her clit.
"Fuck."
"Fuck."
We moan it together, and I laugh against her mouth because some things don't change. Her legs fall open wider for me, and I give her exactly what she asked for, watching her face while I slide two fingers home. My home, and I'm never leaving it again.
"Keep me, Rose. Don't let me go." I press the words into her skin without an ounce of pride left to protect. I don't care how desperate it sounds. I am desperate. "Please. I'm fucking serious. Keep me."
"Always. You're mine, Jax. I need you. Please, I'm so sorry I left you." Her voice breaks and the sobs come hard enough that my instinct takes over. I start to pull away so I can hold her, gather her up, do something about the tears, but her hand clamps around my wrist before I get anywhere.
"Don't stop." Her eyes find mine, wet and absolutely certain. "Make me yours again."
Holy fucking shit.
I look at her for a second because there are words a man waits his entire life to hear, and that one just knocked every useful thought out of my head. She gives me an impatient little tug when I don't move fast enough, which is so fucking Rose that I almost laugh.
But I'm not doing this here. Not our first time back. Not half-drunk in a swimming pool.
"Come on. Come to my place." I climb out and reach back for her.
She takes my hand and rises out of the pool, water pouring off her dress, and I take a second to look at her. My Rose. I cup her face, and she leans into my palm the same way she always does.
"Hi, baby." I lean down and kiss her top lip, then her bottom one.
"Hi, baby," she whispers back.
Goddamn, I missed that.
"Is this it? Is it us from now on?" I keep my hand against her face because I need the answer before either of us takes another step. "Because I'm not doing another round of this shit, Rose. I don't have another year of personal growth in me. I'm tapped out."
Her mouth twitches. "Under one condition."
"Name your price, my lady."
Her chin lifts, and there she is, bossy as ever. "We leave this pool as one. Forever. No more running."
"That was always the plan, baby." I brush a wet strand of hair from her cheek. "I've just been waiting for him."
She frowns. "Waiting for who?"
"The man who deserves you."
Her breath catches, and for about half a second I'm feeling pretty fucking good about myself.
Then I hear the sentence again.
"Jesus, that sounded corny."
She laughs through the tears gathering in her eyes. "A little."
"Fuck you. It was heartfelt."
"Is that a yes, then?"
"You command, and I obey, ma'am."
"Damn right you do." Her voice cracks slightly, but she doesn't hide it. She takes my hand, threads our fingers together and gives me a tug toward the gate. "Take me home."
"Yes, ma'am."
She gets three steps before stopping. "Actually, no. Get dressed and meet me in the lobby in twenty minutes. I want to take you somewhere. I'll call my driver."
I stare at her. "Should I be concerned?"
"Probably."
"Good enough for me. Yes, ma'am."
Then she's gathering the champagne bag and her shoes and herding me toward the pool gate in a soaking-wet dress while I'm still trying to process the last ten minutes.
Best failed wedding ever.
I love this fucking woman.
***
Twenty minutes later, I'm knocking on Bennet's door with exactly one intention. I got dressed in record time and texted Rose to meet me here instead of the lobby, because before she takes me wherever the hell we're going, there's one thing I want to do right.
The door opens, and the entire group is here.
"Shit. Hey." I look past Bennet into the apartment, where everybody is staring back at me. "Why is everybody here?"
"Heyyy," they say in unison, using that soft, funeral-adjacent tone people reserve for the recently jilted.
Bennet puts a hand on my shoulder like I might tip over. "How are you holding up?"
"I'm good." I can't help chuckling because the concern on their faces is so far removed from my current mood that it's ridiculous. "I'm fucking great, actually."
That only makes them look more worried.
Joe presses a glass of whiskey into my hand. "Come sit, man. Take a load off."
"For fuck's sake, is this about the wedding? Is that why you're all acting weird as hell right now?"
"Noooo. Of course not."
They exchange glances with the subtlety of a middle school play, and before any of them can come up with whatever lie they've collectively rehearsed, Blaire blows the whole thing up.
"Bennet called everyone here to make a plan," she announces. "Said plan was to go down to your apartment, kidnap you and take you out to get your mind off things. We were literally walking out the door when you knocked."
"Can you keep one secret from this man?" Bennet throws a hand toward me in despair.
"I want your blessing to be with Rose."
It comes out before I can find a smoother way to say it, and every person in the room shuts the fuck up.
Well. We're here now.
"I want to be with her. Formally. With your blessing.
Forever. Marriage, the whole..." I take a large swallow of whiskey while the sentence falls apart in my mouth.
Fuck it. I've spent enough of my life trying to find the perfect time and the perfect words for this woman. "I want to marry your sister."
I get one full second of silence before the room erupts.
"Fucking finally, holy shit!"
"Thought we were going to need another intervention."
"NOW we can celebrate!"
Jenn is already crying because Jenn has never met an emotion she couldn't hydrate through. Blaire is cheering, Joe nearly knocks the whiskey out of my hand slapping me on the back, and I'm standing in the middle of all of them grinning like an idiot.
"Fuck off, the lot of you. I asked one person." I point at Bennet. "Is that a yes?"
He crosses the room and grips my shoulder. His eyes have gone glassy, and because I'm an excellent friend who would like to survive the evening, I don't say a fucking word about it.
"It's a hell yes, brother. Hell yes." He pulls me into a hug, pounds me on the back, then steps away with a grin. "Treat her right, or, you know, the wife will hurt you."
"I heard that," Blaire calls from the chair beside us. "And I will."
"I know. I'm significantly more afraid of you than I am of him."
"As you should be."
Bennet shakes his head, still smiling. "You're serious, though? Marriage serious?"
"I've been in love with her for ten fucking years, man. At this point, marrying her might be the least impulsive decision I've ever made."
Joe raises his glass. "That's actually a little disturbing when you put it that way."
"Nobody asked you, Joseph."
Blaire points at me, delighted. "There he is. Our groom is back."
"Former groom," I correct her, and fuck if the words don't feel good coming out of my mouth. "Very important distinction."