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Oh my God. Braxton is on a knee in front of me.

Pulling out a box.

A black box.

Behind me, I vaguely recognize Jenna’s squeal of delight.

“Oh my God,” I whisper, my hands already shaking. “Shut up.”

“Nope.” He grins at me and takes my hand. His other hand has the box.

He flips it open.

“Cara Thompson, in front of everyone who loves us, who’s happy for us, I want to promise all of them, and you, that if you agree to be my wife and marry me and give me the family better than anything I’d ever dreamed of having, I will make sure that all of your dreams come true, every day, for the rest of your life, because you’ve already given me mine.”

“Braxton—” My voice is wobbly. Shaky. How am I even speaking? My knees feel like jelly and I might fall over.

“Marry me, Cara. Be my wife.”

“Yes!” It rushes out of me with such force I surprise myself and I laugh, and he laughs. And the crowd around us cheers.

But I’m still staring down at him, more tears running down my face as he takes the ring out of the box. A gorgeous sparkling diamond that’s round and bright and I don’t even care what it is just that it’s on my finger and I’m getting married.

“I love you,” he says, kissing my hand as he stands. “I love everything about you.”

I throw my arms around him again, my belly preventing me from jumping into his arms like I desperately want to.

I kiss him until I can’t kiss him anymore as all of our friends—our family—cheer and clap and Graham yells for us to get a room.

Then I twirl, tossing my hands into the air again, and shout, “I’m getting married!”

Epilogue

Braxton

My fiancée is beautiful. She’s even more beautiful on her hands and knees, her hips wide, plump ass shaking as I thrust into her. It’s one of the few positions where I can make love to her now that her due date is so close, and as much as I love it, I can’t wait until I can kiss her while I’m making love to her.

“Braxton,” she whines, and I know she’s close. Her already tight walls feel incredible against my dick.

I slide my hand from her hip to her center, pressing against her clit while I speed up my thrusts. “Get there,” I demand of her, because I’m so close.

Every time I sink inside Cara I could blow like a rocket, and the more she grows with our baby, mostly all in her breasts and stomach, the fiercer that need is.

There is nothing more insanely beautiful than watching the woman you love grow with your child inside of her.

“Please. Yes.” She pushes back against me, her legs and hands already shaking, and it’s that sign that tells me she’s almost there. She always goes wild right before she releases.

“Yes,” I groan, slamming into her at the same time my fingers manipulate her at the front.

And it doesn’t take much, because she throws her head back, her walls clamp around my dick, and I push inside her as deep as I can go, but not nearly deep enough because I’ll never be deep enough inside of Cara to be satisfied.

We tumble over the edge of our release together, and she collapses to her elbows. I stay inside of her until I can breathe at a reasonable pace, running my hand up and down her back.

“How are you feeling?”

“Like Pam’s idea of a lot of sex to get this baby coming was the best idea she’s ever had.”

We had her last regular appointment this morning where Pam gave us that idea, a cheeky grin on her face. As soon as we got back to the apartment, Cara attacked, all grouchy and demanding I follow her midwife’s orders to get this baby boy out of her immediately. I chuckle against her shoulder, bending over her to kiss her. She’s three days from her due date, her stomach as big as a watermelon, and she’s cranky.