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“I want it,” she whispered again, her voice too small. “If you do.”

He sighed and kissed her shoulder. “Little owl, making a baby with you is right up there at the top of mymust dolist, trust me. I want everything with you, from getting a ring on your finger to making a family and everything else in between. I should’ve known when I found you in the closet that you’d changed something in me.”

She glanced at him over her shoulder. “Really?”

“Really. My priorities were no longer focused on the club or the clients, or my job—and for a long time, my job has been the only thing consistent in my life, no matter where I was. You stumbled into my world, and suddenly, all I cared about was your health, your comfort, you. That’s a once in a lifetime deal, little owl; you’re mine now, which means there’s nothing more important to me than you.”

That was the final blow to the chisel carving his name in her heart.

It was there, an imperfect scrawl of gold letters etched into a ruby.

The most priceless gift she had to offer.

“I-I want that.” She hated that she felt heavy and languid. Her heart was finally finding a steadier beat, calming down after marathon, exhilarating sex. “The ring. The family. The babies.”

“Yeah?” He couldn’t hide the hope in his voice. “I figured the chances of you being open to any of that just yet might be slim. Suggesting them is one thing, doing them is another.” His hand stroked down her side to claim her hip. “We have to consider PTSD, Tamsyn. You know what that is?”

Her mind was stepping back a notch. “Penis Transmitted Sexual Deviancy?”

“I—” Laughter roared through him. “Where the hell did that come from?”

Her lips curved; she loved hearing him laugh. “Wherever words are.”

“Christ, woman, I adore you. For starters, sexual deviancy isn’t transmitted by a penis, little owl. Kink is… it can be learned, but a lot of the time, it’s just part of you. Nothing to be ashamed or scared of; it’s simply a key that fits a lock.” Merrick eased out of her despite her protesting mewl. “PTSD is Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, Tamsyn. That’s a whole new key for a different kind of lock. The kind that brings ghosts to life and memories into the present. You lived in a constant nightmare where marriage and babies walked hand in hand with rape and murder. That leaves scars.”

“Not there anymore,” she mumbled. “With you.”

“Mmm-hmm, and right here with me is where you’re gonna stay, darlin’, come hell or high fucking water.” Rolling her gently onto her back, he smiled down at her, more gorgeous than an avenging angel returning from war. Sweat glistened over his skin, catching the light as his chest still rose and fell in quick, exerted breaths. Muscles he could have used to break her picked her up carefully instead, handling her tender body with ease.

A silver-haired angel with hooded green eyes darkened by satisfaction.

Snuggling her cheek against his heart, Tamsyn closed her eyes. “I don’t care about PTSD or triggers. It is what it is. Being afraid is horrible, but I’ve been afraid my whole life. It’s worth it to be here with you. I’d go through anything to be with you.”

“Well, then, I…” Merrick cleared his throat as his voice thickened. “Baby or ring first, little owl?”

“You choose,” she murmured sleepily, barely aware of her surroundings changing from bedroom to bathroom. “I don’t mind.”

“Ring it is,” he told her quietly. “Just don’t be surprised if I knock you up before the wedding.”

Her lips curved. “I’ll marry you tomorrow, ‘kay?”

He laughed and switched on the shower. “Darlin’, don’t tempt me. It can be arranged.”

Did it really matter whether it was tomorrow or a year from now? She knew from experience how quickly life changed; time wasn’t guaranteed and death was a surety.

Spending whatever time she had left with Merrick, wearing his ring and taking his name, carrying his children and building an honest life full of love, seemed like the perfect fate for a woman who never thought she’d see real love, let alone have it for herself.

Warm water sluiced over her head when Merrick stepped into the stall, turning so the stream didn’t catch her full in the face. He was so thoughtful that way—in all ways, really. He made sure her comfort was at the forefront of everything he did, even when he was making her do something unpalatable.

He lowered her feet to the floor, holding her hips when she swayed.

She peered up at him. “Make it happen, Merrick? You and me, and the marriage person?”

“The marriage… oh, you mean the officiant. Tell you what, give me a few days to organize things. We need a license and all the legal shit…” He trailed off, frowning down at her. “Well, fuck.”

His tone cleared some of the sleepy fog from her head. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No, darlin’. Might just need more than a few days to get everything in order. Don’t suppose you know if your father bothered registering you with the state when you were born? If he has a birth certificate for you?”