Page 92 of Bad Boy for Hire

He took a shaky inhale, and she saw the moment hope returned along with that solid, strong Xavier confidence she loved so much. It was time for her to confess her own feelings.

“I love you too. And I love this house. Me moving in here with you isn’t exactly a hard sell.”

He chuckled and then sniffed, ducking his head to furtively swipe away another tear. “Goddamn,” he whispered, and that sounded like a prayer to her. “I love you so much. I want it all. I want you to live here. I want you to have my baby. I want forever. For the first time, I believe I can have it. Because of you.”

“Forever as in…”

“I don’t have the ring yet. I don’t want to make that decision without you.”

“That’s a good idea.”

“Yeah?” He grinned.

She nodded.

He scooped her up, holding her tightly against him. He kissed her cheek, her neck, and breathed “I’m so sorry” into her ear.

“I know.” She stroked the back of his head. “You weren’t trying to take over.”

“That’s not what I meant.” He pulled his face out of her hair. He was wearing a rakish smirk, and there was a cocky glint in his eyes.

“Oh, no.” She was already shaking her head, but her smile hadn’t gone anywhere.

“I’m so sorry that I lied to you at the bottom of those stairs. To be fair, I hadn’t planned on coaxing you into my bedroom.”

“Coaxing me?”

“Begging you?” His lips hovered over hers. This time his face went blurry, not because of the tears in her eyes but because he was too close to focus on. She wanted him to be this close from here on out.

“You don’t have to beg.”

“Oh, but I live to serve.” He advanced, backing her down the hallway toward his bedroom. “I have to make up for lost time. How many orgasms have you missed out on over the last four days?”

“So many,” she heard herself say. It seemed her box o’ hormones had escaped despite the duct tape.

“I’m up for the task.” In his room, he began unbuttoning her blouse, but she stilled his hands with hers.

“You are, you know. Up for the task. Of being a dad. Of being a partner.”

“A partner,” he repeated. “A lover.” He cupped her ass and moved with her in an intimate dance. “A husband.”

She hummed in the back of her throat. “A technicality. I would have you as the other two without that one being required.”

Except marrying him sounded so damn good. Complete. She didn’t need a contract to hold him to her, but she wanted the whole package. She didn’t want to leave anything undone, unsaid. Unresolved.

“What I’m saying is that I’m here,” he said. “For good. For always.”

She rested her forehead to his. “Me too.”

“By my count”—he slid his hand down to her barely-there belly bump—“baby makes three.”

He picked her up and gently deposited her on the bed. Then he gave her what she’d been missing for the last four days—along with a few more I-love-yous to seal the deal.

Epilogue

Christmas Eve

The soft glow of a miniature tabletop Christmas tree lit the corner of the nursery in warm yellow light, casting delicate shadows across freshly folded baby blankets and the sturdy crib and rocking chair, both handmade by their friend, Ant, the latter an early Christmas present from him and Lou.