Page 96 of Play for Power (Central Sparks #3)

TWO YEARS LATER

Caleb

I swipe my sweaty hands down my rather expensive suit pants and scan the entirety of the apartment.

Satisfied that it is Rosie-panic-level clean while also looking pretty enough that she might finally say yes.

It wouldn’t be the first time she’s turned me down, though.

I smile to myself, shaking my head. She’s fiercely independent, my girl, and stubborn, but fuck, I’m so head over heels for that woman. And tonight, I had a plan.

I feel somewhat prepared, having had a stab at this a few times—four to be exact—I’m…practiced. Tonight is the night. I can feel it.

I look over the dark apartment one more time, the white rose petals that line a path from the entry door all the way to the floor-to-ceiling windows of my apartment.

The city lights illuminate the apartment in that beautiful way we both love, candles lit in different height pillars giving off a warm glow from where I stand in my best, most expensive Armani suit.

I wipe my hands down the legs of said suit again while I continue to repeat the words in my head.

I’m not freaking out, at all…not even a little bit.

And then I hear her keys at the door and my heart lodges itself firmly in my throat, making a nice little home for itself there while it beats out a rhythm that nearly makes me faint.

Of course, she’s over two hours late, but I’m used to that now.

With Vixen Publishing open and absolutely killing it, she, Halle, and Jasper are always working overtime.

And though Rosie refers to it as “the inevitable destruction of dumb, old Neanderthals,” the loss of the Garcia funds led to the consequential closing of Andersen Schulz and Meyers only a year after Rosie dropped a bomb on her old life.

That meant there were a hell of a lot of authors up for grabs, and Rosie being exactly the powerhouse she is, she snatched up as many as she could.

Of course, it made her workweek longer, but I’ve never seen her shine quite so bright, and it does nothing but make everything we’ve been through together worth it.

Thinking about that shine now has me holding my breath as the door opens and she pushes through.

“Get your dick hard, babe, I’m ready to fuck out some rage— What are you doing? ” She ends on a gasp, her eyes wide where she stands frozen by the door.

I’m not in position. I’m halfway between us…but I guess it wouldn’t take a genius to work out what I was doing. I take a small step forward, she takes a tiny one, too, letting the door click shut, the sound of it locking into place deafening among the silence of the apartment.

I raise my hands, slowly, not wanting to make the already gun-shy woman more skittish.

“Caleb,” she whispers my name, the same deer-in-headlights look across her face.

“Rosie…don’t freak out.”

“Freak out!? Freak out? This looks like?—”

“I know what this looks like…but just let me?—”

“No! We talked about this.” She pouts, her little heeled foot doing a delicate stomp, and I have to bite my lip not to laugh at her.

She drops her handbag by the door, her hands landing on her hips, and I take a few steps to close the distance.

Taking her beautiful face between my hands, I relax…

just a little, when she leans into my touch.

“Before I say anything, let me kiss you,” I whisper, and she doesn’t waste a moment.

She reaches up and presses her lips to mine, her hands falling to my suit, and it makes me chuckle.

Despite the adjustment she’s made to her expensive taste, she’s still a sucker for her designers, and I know she’s appreciating the luxury of an Armani, feeling every dollar sign weaved into this material. She sighs contently as she does.

“Hi, pretty girl,” I whisper against her soft lips.

“Hi, mi amor. ” She smiles softly and then her gaze moves over my shoulder, to the overdramatic decorations, until she looks back at me, a look of knowing moving across her face. “We talked about this.”

“Yes, and I believe each time involved a very quick no, followed by me trying to convince you. You say no, and then we’re naked and distracted and forget to talk further.

That is hardly a conversation.” I nip at her lip and she playfully shoves at my chest, forcing me to drop her face, but I reach for her hands, and she lets me.

“Are you complaining?” She raises a brow.

“Definitely not about the naked part.”

“Good, so let’s skip the question part and go straight to the naked time.” She smiles devilishly, discarding her blazer, reaching for the buttons of her blouse when I grip her hands to stop her.

“Wait.” I take a breath and make sure I have all of her attention. I’m still not sick of those whiskey eyes with swirls of caramel. Probably never will be. “I want this, Rosie. I want to say this, I want a life with you.”

“We have a life together; nothing has to change!” she replies urgently, letting her hands fall into mine, away from her buttons.

“None of this will take away your independence. You can still have everything else exactly how you want it, I’d just be your husband. Please, say yes. Marry me, let me call you my wife,” I plead, dragging her forward so I can press a kiss to her cheeks.

She pouts and almost looks like a toddler in trouble when she pouts.

And if I didn’t know her as well as I did, I’d probably be offended.

But I know she’s just trying to manage how she feels, I know she’s trying to act like she doesn’t feel all gooey on the inside.

But my smile blooms across my face, because Rosie Garcia? She’s the gooiest of them all.

“So, you’ll let me keep my apartment then?” She raises a challenging brow and my smile drops into a bored expression. “See!” She points at my face with a stomp of her foot. “It will change things.”

“Rosie, I’d want you to move in with me even if we weren’t married. Sue me for wanting you all up in my space.”

“But I need my own place.”

“I know that, Rosebud.” I chuckle at her petulant look.

“Which is why I never pushed. Firstly, let’s not pretend like I can make you do anything.

I’m not letting you keep your apartment.

It’s yours to do with as you please, remember?

I’m not going to force you into giving it up.

I would love for you to live here with me.

I want a home together, to have your things next to mine, to wake up in the same bed together, every day.

But you can still keep your other place. So, if I ever annoy you?—”

“ When you annoy me.”

“Fine, when I annoy you, you can escape there. You can still host your girls’ nights here or there, your author signings too.

You can have it as completely your place with your things, I really don’t mind.

It’s yours and always will be. I’d just love for us to have the same home .

And I’d love for you to be my wife.” I’m slightly encouraged by her lack of argument, as well as the way she is softening in my arms. She’s irresistible in all ways, even more so when she’s argumentative but coming around.

“I really don’t like the idea of someone owning me, Caleb,” she says with such gentleness.

The vulnerable look in her eye and the way she uses Caleb instead of pest, cabrón, mi amor, or one of the other million and one nicknames she’s given me, tells me that we’ve finally hit the real reason she is always saying no.

I take a centering breath and smile down at the beautiful woman I love. Though I suspected this was the case, among other things, it’s nice for the words to finally be spoken aloud. Looping her arms around my neck and resting my hands on her hips, I pull her against my chest.

“No one owns you, pretty girl. Least of all me. I want to call you my wife, because I want everyone to know that the fiercest woman in the world owns me. I want to be yours, and I want it forever. We can skip the whole engagement thing and just go straight to the courthouse. We can elope on some island and run away together, I don’t care.

I just want you permanently in my space and I want it forever.

” I speak each word deliberately, not letting my eyes stray from hers.

She watches me with a growing softness, her smile growing slightly and her breath coming in heavier.

“You’re quite persistent, you know,” she teases.

We laugh silently together and I watch, patiently as every word ticks over in her mind. Waiting for the next hang-up, ready to tell her why saying yes will be the best decision ever.

“I’m not becoming Mrs. Smith.” My smile drops a little with the hope blooming in my stomach.

Even though I expected it, it doesn’t stop the little sting from the refusal.

It’s not the first time she’s said no, but maybe it’ll be the last. Maybe next time will be a yes.

I just hold her tighter to me, determined to win her over next time.

“Hey.” She reaches for my face, directing me to look into hers. “That wasn’t a no.”

I rear back, confused, her smile awfully cheeky. “But you said?—”

“I meant I’m not taking your name. I want to stay Rosie Garcia.”

A massive breath of relief leaves my lungs so fast I fall forward, nearly groaning with exhilaration as I crush her against my chest and kiss the ever-loving shit out of my wife. She chuckles, falling into the kiss and keeping a firm grip on the back of my neck before I lightly pull away.