Keep Me (36 page)

I stared at him, narrowing my eyes as he continued, “Just then, when you were talking about us not getting out much and how we’re always home watching him…
fart
.” He whispered the last word, so the elderly woman and her granddaughter modeling a princess gown close by wouldn’t hear.

I couldn’t control the giggle that escaped me. He looked adorable, trying to be polite and proper while sporting two full sleeves of tattoos and a Harley Davidson baseball cap.

“Shit, your brain is mush these days, or maybe I’m just looking too deep into it, but baby, you called him
ours
and it made me proud as fuck.”

Now
that
the woman heard and covered the little princess’s ears before walking away, sneering. When she was gone, and I finally processed everything, I realized that I did indeed refer to Luca as ours. I was sure I’d done it before, as a slip of the tongue, but maybe I hadn’t. Maybe it was just subconscious—Marcus loved Luca as much as he loved me. It was evident in everything he did and now, seeing him so ecstatic over that one simple word, I didn’t have the heart to downplay it.

“Well, if the shoe fits…” I shrugged my shoulders and bit my lower lip.

His eyes focused on my mouth, his own tongue darting out to trace the plumpness of his smiling lips. It was that simple—one look had me wishing we weren’t stuck in a Halloween store, with my son and a crowd full of people.

“Call Riley,” he growled. “Date night. Tonight.” His dark, heated gaze roamed the entire length of my body before landing back on the tiny package of mini-person in his arms. “Sorry Little Man, but your Mommy’s hot and I can’t wait to get my hands all over her.”

“Would you just go already? I know where everything is and he’ll be fine. He loves his Auntie Riley. Now leave us be and go be your sickeningly adorable selves.” Riley shooed us out the door, toting a pajama-clad toddler on her hip. Luca wasn’t fazed; in fact, I think he was getting sick of my mug, so I just gave him a quick kiss and waved goodbye as I followed Marcus down the driveway. I stopped short. “You didn’t.” I brought my hands up to my mouth, shocked by the sight before me.

“Oh, I did.” Marcus handed me a cherry red helmet with the words
Marcus’s Girl
scrolled across the back. It matched the detail of the beautiful monster purring in my driveway.

“When?”

“Does it matter? I was waiting for the perfect time to surprise you. Come, hop on… I’ll take you for a ride.”

The last time he took me for a ride on the back of a bike… mmm. I needed a night like that. I skipped around the bike and closer to him, my enthusiasm pouring out of me uncontrollably. “I love surprises like these!”

“Well then, good.” He strapped on his helmet and then leaned in for a quick kiss. “Because I have another surprise at dinner.” After one more delicate kiss, he spun on his heels and straddled the bike. When he looked over his shoulder—Jesus Christ, he smoldered—it was a sight that caused dampness in my panties and had my legs begging to be wrapped around him. I was glad to oblige.

Marcus pulled my hair to the side, twisting it into one section and tucking it under my new, personalized helmet as he placed it on my head. With an appreciative grin, I climbed on the back of the bike and threw my arms around Marcus’s solid frame. God, I loved being in this moment, in this position, wrapped around my man. There was nothing like it. “Ready, baby,” I said in his ear and without another word we were cruising down my street to the restaurant.

When we pulled up to the casual dining spot, I tried ineffectively to hide my disappointment. Not because of the restaurant—this was my favorite place—but because Marcus didn’t deviate in his travels. He mentioned that he had more surprises for me and I was sure that one of them entailed a secluded spot where the two of us could reenact our first time on a bike together.

Shaking my hair down from its knot, I handed the helmet back to Marcus, sulking. This whole scenario—the bike, my name on his helmet, the tight v-neck t-shirt that clung to his muscles and showcased his manly artwork—I was insatiable around him. Could you blame a girl for sulking? He was depriving me and I was hungry… just not for tacos.

“Hey,” he mused, “why the pout, my love? Not in the mood for Mexican tonight?”

I sauntered toward him, placing a hand on his chest, using my finger to trace a trail from his ink-covered neck to the waste of his jeans. “Mexican’s fine. Just thought you were taking me for a ride.” I air quoted the phrase, hoping he understood what I was getting at.

Oh he got it.
His eyes sparked to life and his arousal perked to attention underneath his sexy worn jeans. “We skipping dinner?” He was turning back toward the bike before I could even give him an answer and I was ready to oblige, but he stopped, his hand hovering over the helmet that dangled from the chrome handlebars. “I can’t believe I’m gonna say this, but we can take a detour on the way home. I want my hands all over your slamming body, and my tongue—God, it’s craving to taste that sweet skin of yours…” His words came out on a hiss. I let out a soft, tortured moan because I sensed a ‘but.’

“But…” And there it was. “I want to talk to you about something. I’ve been waiting for the right time and tonight is that time so… bike fucking will have to wait, pretty girl.”

Bike fucking.
When he put it like that… what the hell could be so important that he’d forgo christening his new baby with me?

“Come. I promise to make it worth the wait.”

“The bike fucking or whatever it is you need to tell me?”

“Both.” He winked before guiding me toward the red doors of the restaurant with his hand at the small of my back. Whatever he had to say, I hoped it would be quick. My body thirsted for his hands all over me, not just on my back and over my clothing.

Greeting the hostess, Marcus tangled his fingers with mine and said, “Reservation for Grayson. I spoke with the owner earlier.”

My interests were definitely piqued. This place wasn’t the type for reservations. We usually sat in a booth, close to the sizzling heat of the busy kitchen, with a visit every now and then from the house mariachi band. Why did we need anything other than the usual?

“Yes, Señor. Right this way.” The tiny woman hooked two menus under her arm and led the way. We passed tables of patrons enjoying pitchers of homemade sangria and then swung by our usual booth. But to my surprise, we were taken through a set of rustic glass-paned doors to an outdoor patio area where the mariachi band was patiently waiting to greet us, equipped with massive smiles and authentic sombreros.

“What’s all this?” I beamed at Marcus. “I didn’t even know this existed.”

“I pulled out all the stops for you, pretty girl. Always will.”

The three band members strummed their guitars and sang a Spanish rendition of Elvis’s
Fools Rush In
. The waitress placed the menus down and I went to sit, but Marcus took my hand and led me to the center of the patio to a cobblestone, makeshift dance floor. Suddenly, my heart was fluttering and my stomach was flopping around.

“So?” he hummed into my ear as he swayed our bodies together. “What do you think?”

What
did
I think? He kept hinting at a surprise. He went all out to make this night romantic and special. Was he…?

“Tessa, calm down. I can feel your pulse jumping a mile a fucking minute. And while I may be a fool, I’m not rushing anything. Marriage can wait—we’re just getting started on this journey and I want to savor it. Doesn’t mean I’m not ready, but I know we need more time.”

Oh, thank God.
Not that I wouldn’t have said yes if he asked, but it was too soon to be talking about engagement. We still had a lot of growing to do—as individuals first and foremost. The couple thing—we had that down pat. “So then why all the pomp and circumstance?” I leaned into him, my eyes searching his.

“Is that what this is?” He smirked. “I thought it was just a kind gesture for a well-deserved date night.”

“Quit beating around the bush, bucko! If you’re not asking me to marry you what
is
all this fuss about?” I said it with as much flippancy as I could. I didn’t want him to think I was upset that he wasn’t proposing because I truly wasn’t.

“I bought a house!” His eyes flickered with pride.

“Marcus, that’s wonderful. Where?” I was so excited for him and then suddenly a little miffed that I’d been left in the dark. Backing up and ignoring the mariachi’s version of Bryan Adam’s
Heaven
I slapped him on his rather bulky bicep. “And why didn’t you tell me sooner? This process had to take months.”

Marcus took my hand and led me to the table, pulling out my chair, waiting for me to sit and then joined me. “It was one of those things that just happened… an offer too good to refuse. The lease on my apartment was expiring so I knew I had to start looking, but…”

I focused my attention on his hands. They fidgeted together at first and then, commanding domination, reached across the table and grasped mine. “I bought the place for
us
, Tessa. Me, you, Luca—our future. I want you to move in with me. I want to start our life together and this home,
our home
, is the perfect way to begin.”

Our home? Was this really happening? I knew Marcus was mine for the taking, but forever? Was he really talking about our future and… forever?

“Why do you look like a deer in headlights?” His hands went back to fidgeting and I just stared at him in wonderment.

“Are you sure this is what you want, baby? I mean, I love you. I can’t imagine life without you, but are you ready to share your space with me and a growing toddler? This means no more bachelor pad,
scheduled
rather than
impromptu
poker nights, and, well… this is a huge step. Are you sure you really want to—”

“Fucking positive,” he assured me. “There is nothing I want more than to wake up next to you, every morning—whether Luca is lodged in between us or not—for the rest of my life. I love you, Tessa. I’m gonna love you forever. There’s no reason to put off the inevitable and I absolutely hate, despise,
loathe
having to leave your bed to crawl across town into mine. It’s ridiculous! We’re together more than we’re apart and this just makes sense. Don’t you think?”

“Yes, I do think,” I blurted out without hesitation. There was nothing to
think
about. I had no attachments to my current home and I was ready to make memories in a new one. I wanted this and if he was asking I was accepting. We’d iron out the details later.

“Good! I wasn’t having it any other way.” He practically sang it while waving his finger in the air, motioning to the waiter. “Champagne, please. We’re celebrating tonight.”

During the entire ride back home I replayed the events of our enchanted evening—the band, the dancing, the plans for our future. Tomorrow I’d call the realtor to list my house. Marcus wanted me to start packing as of… like yesterday since he already signed contracts and the new house would be ready to move into next week. The smile on my face was close to painful as I rested my head against his back, savoring the vibration his lungs created as he sang. I couldn’t make out the song, but whatever it was, he was belting it out.

Just as I thought, we were headed straight to my soon-to-be for-sale home. Marcus flicked the blinker and turned right instead of continuing forward. My insides tightened and my sex pulsated, knowing Marcus’s intentions.
Bike fucking—hells, yeah.

I gripped my arms around him tighter, holding on for dear life. I never wanted to let go because in my hands held my forever, my happily ever after. It was the most incredible feeling on earth.