Page 63 of Sacred Vow

TILLY

TWO YEARS LATER

A heavy groan tears out of me as I roll off Caesar’s chest and crash onto our dining table, his hand all but glued to my ass.

What can I say, there’s just something special about dining tables.

This is the fourth one we’ve gone through in the last two years.

I don’t know what it is, perhaps the wild fuck fests that we tend to have on them, but the fuckers just keep breaking.

Though not anymore. This bad boy was built out of reinforced steel. If it crumbles beneath us, then surely we deserve a trip to a private island, sipping on cocktails for a month straight and fucking on the beach because surely that kind of effort deserves a reward.

“Uggggh. Get fucked,” Zephyr says from the living room, taking us in, butt naked on the dining table. “You invite us over for dinner, only to fuck all over the table before we get here. What the fuck?”

I snicker as Caesar grabs my favorite You’re a mother fucker shirt and pulls it over my head, still grinning at his son. “What else were we supposed to do while the chicken cooks?”

“I don’t know. Set the table. Not fuck on it.”

I roll my eyes. “So judgmental for someone who fucked his girlfriend on the hood of his car in the parking lot of a Chuck E Cheese,” I say, choosing not to remind him that he’s also no stranger to taking me on a table, but now that he and Chloe are so serious, bringing that shit up doesn’t feel so appropriate anymore.

Zeph gasps, his eyes wide. “She told you that?”

“Uhhh, yeah,” I laugh. “And about the unfortunate . . . uhhhh early arrival.”

He gasps again, immediately diving into defense mode, only Chloe’s voice from the foyer cuts off whatever bullshit was about to come flying out of his mouth.

“Jesus. They’re fucking again, aren’t they?” Chloe calls. “Is it safe to come in?”

“Only if you don’t feel like gagging the whole way through dinner.”

“It was on the table again, wasn’t it?”

I shake my head, and Chloe strides in with her perfect little baby bump.

She’s only four months along, but so far, the pregnancy has more than suited her.

She’s loved every second of it. “Hey, you two got your own place because we couldn’t keep our hands off each other, so don’t act surprised when you barge in without knocking only to find us in the middle of an afternoon penis party. ”

Chloe pretends to gag as I cut across the living room and pull her into my arms before pressing my hands to her sweet little bump, more excited than ever to meet this little baby.

“I love you, and I’ll be expecting the full run down on how my little niece or nephew is growing, but right now, I must excuse myself. ”

“Where the fuck are you going?” Zeph asks, studying the array of cleaning products so he can thoroughly disinfect the dining table.

“If you must know, I’m going to the bathroom because all of your tiny little brothers and sisters are currently smearing between my thighs.”

Caesar chokes back a laugh, knowing damn well how any mention of us together makes Zephyr squirm.

“Why the hell do I agree to come to this shit?”

“Beats me,” I laugh before skipping out of the room.

I return a moment later, crashing down on the couch with Chloe, and as Caesar and Zeph talk business, Chloe and I dive deep into week sixteen of her pregnancy.

She gives me the full recap, and as she goes on and on about it, glowing like a freaking super model, I can’t help but wonder if babies are in my future.

Caesar is much older and has done the whole raising a kid thing.

It’s not exactly a topic that’s been broached, except for one awkward false alarm that freaked us both out, but I would like to eventually have a kid.

Assuming it’s similar to having a dog, of course.

I like those, but I don’t think I’m ready yet.

As for Caesar, I really don’t know. That’s a conversation we’ll have to have when the time comes.

Though one thing is for certain, pregnancy definitely isn’t going to suit me as well as it suits Chloe.

She’s simply stunning, and watching the way that Zeph continues to steal glances at her, watching her as though she’s the most beautiful human he’s ever laid eyes on, makes me happier than life itself.

The way he loves her is what I always wanted for her, and there’s nobody more deserving, though that doesn’t mean that I won’t attempt to get under his skin at every possible chance.

Chloe and I talk shit about the men in our lives for a good twenty minutes when a disgusted gasp comes from the kitchen. “WHO THE FUCK ATE MY DONUTS?”

Ahh shit.

My eyes widen in horror, and my head snaps up to find Zephyr barging toward me, a squeal already tearing from the back of my throat.

He dives for me as I frantically try to kick him away, but the bastard is too quick, his rock-hard grip closing around my ankle, and before I know it, he’s dragging me off the couch like a damn rag doll.

I kick at him, screaming for him to let me go as he drags me around the dining table before heading down the hallway, all while Caesar just watches the performance, his arms crossed over his chest, not even attempting to do something about this atrocity.

“YOU DON’T EVEN LIVE HERE,” I scream at Zeph. “YOU CAN’T CLAIM THE SHIT IN OUR FRIDGE!”

“I CAN WHEN MY FATHER SAYS HE BOUGHT THEM JUST FOR ME.”

“THAT WAS ALMOST A WEEK AGO,” I yell back at him, getting comfortable on the ground as we pass by the guest bedroom and then the guest bathroom on the grand tour of the floor. “THEY WERE GOING BAD. I WAS ONLY DOING YOU A FAVOR, ASSHAT.”

“Cuntasaurus,” he throws back at me, ditching me in the hallway before taking off.

“You’re lucky my best friend loves you, otherwise, I’d bury your ass.”

Zephyr scoffs as though I couldn’t even come close to beating him in an insult battle, but this is where I excel, and if I don’t do anything amazing in my life, I will always know that I could whoop his ass with words if I had to.

Getting back to my feet, I make my way back into the living room, finding Caesar leaning against the back of the couch, chatting with Chloe, and I move in beside him, my cheeks flushing when he puts his arm around me and pulls me into his side, his lips dropping to my forehead.

“So, what’s the big news?” Zephyr asks a moment later. “Why’d you drag us here for dinner? Did you knock her up?”

My jaw drops as Caesar rolls his eyes. “Did you not want to have dinner first?”

“Nah. Hit me with the fresh bullshit, then I’ll decide if I should eat dinner or save myself a night of hurling.”

“Okay, well—”

“Wait,” Zeph says, cutting his father off. “I think I should sit down first. Just need to find somewhere you two haven’t destroyed with your shared DNA.”

“Well, you better not sit there,” Caesar says, watching as his son takes up the seat beside Chloe. He groans and shifts one seat down before Caesar smirks. “Wouldn’t sit there either.”

“For fuck’s sake,” Zeph groans, getting up and crossing the room before perching himself on the edge of the coffee table.

“Come on,” I say, letting out an exasperated breath. “You know how much we love tables. Why on earth would you think the coffee table would be safe? You know, it’s the perfect height for—”

“I don’t want to hear it,” Zeph says, cutting me off. “Just tell me where it’s safe.”

“Uhhh . . .” I look around the massive living room, my gaze even cutting into both the dining room and kitchen, scanning over every surface of the house, and honestly, I’m coming up blank.

We’ve christened the whole house, so I think it might be time to get a new place just so we can start the christening process all over.

Realizing there’s nowhere safe to sit, Zephyr grabs the stool from under the kitchen island and Caesar and I share a glance, our eyes widening with horror.

I press my lips into a hard line, trying not to make it obvious, but Zeph isn’t as clueless as he looks.

“What?” he demands. “What could you have possibly done to the stool?”

Caesar’s gaze swings back to me, his brow arched with fondness. “You remember?”

“Oh yeah. The coffee pot?”

“And the pool noodle,” Caesar laughs as Zeph looks horrified, probably wondering what kind of kinky shit we’re into that involves a coffee pot and a pool noodle, but this isn’t exactly a story that needs to be shared with Caesar’s son, of all people.

As a matter of fact, it won’t be shared with anyone.

Though I’ll be sure to taunt Zephyr with it every chance I get.

“The . . . wait. Coffee pot?” Zephyr asks as Chloe looks at me as though I’ve lost my mind. “What the fuck is wrong with you two? I can’t even work out what the fuck you would do with a pool noodle. Like, where does that . . . no. You know what, don’t even tell me. I don’t want to know.”

Chloe pipes up. “Speak for yourself,” she says, gaping at me. “Where the hell did you put a coffee pot and a pool noodle?”

I glance at Caesar, and the two of us burst out laughing before simultaneously shaking our heads. “Nah, we couldn’t,” I tell him. “They can’t handle it.”

“No, you’re right, hellcat. He’s not old enough to know about the pool noodle.”

“What?” Zephyr demands. “I’m older than Tilly.”

“By two months,” I throw back at him, scoffing before giving him a smug grin simply because I know what his daddy did to me with a coffee pot and a pool noodle, and he will never know.

Gosh, life is sweet like that.

Caesar shakes his head and cuts across to the kitchen, finding some plates to start setting the table. “I don’t mean your age, Zeph. I mean your emotional maturity.”

Zephyr shakes his head and crosses to the kitchen as well, grabs a clean dish towel out of the drawer, and makes his way back over to Chloe to spread it out.

Satisfied that he’s not about to get any remnants of shared DNA on his ass, he drops down next to his girlfriend before letting out a heavy sigh.

“Alright, fine,” he says. “Tell me why we’re here. What’s going on?”

Caesar glances up, and seeing that his son is finally being serious—no thanks to me—he puts the plates down on the table before crossing back into the living room, moving right in next to me where he’d been only a minute ago.

And honestly, I’ve never been more curious.

Whatever tonight’s dinner is about, it’s a mystery to me.

Caesar’s arm falls around me, his hand resting on the small of my back. “Zeph, I’m going to ask Tilly to marry me, and I need to know that you’re going to be okay with it.”

My jaw drops.

Chloe’s jaw drops.

And Zeph, he just says. “Huh? I thought you already got married in Tahiti last year.”

“Wait. What?” I cut in, not sure whether to look at Caesar and ask what the fuck he’s been smoking or Zephyr for thinking we’d somehow gotten married in secret and didn’t think he should say anything about it.

I go for Caesar, lifting my gaze to meet his. “You want to marry me?”

“Tell me you’re not only just figuring that out now.”

“I’m only twenty-four.”

“I know. We’ve got our whole lives ahead of us. I’m not asking you right now. I’ll wait until you’re ready, but this is where this is heading. I’m not about to let you slip through my fingers, Tilly. You’re mine, and I want my ring on your finger.”

My eyes widen in horror, realization hitting me like a freight train. “Oh, my God. You’ve already got the ring, don’t you?”

He scoffs as though offended by the question. “Of course I do. What kind of bullshit question is that? I’ve got the wedding band as well.”

I shake my head, not in the least bit surprised.

“So, what’s it going to be?”

“Huh?”

“To marrying me.”

“I thought you weren’t asking me now.”

“I’m not.”

“But you are.”

“Okay, yeah. I suppose I am.”

I gape at him. “Twenty-four, remember?”

“Whole lives ahead of us, remember?”

I scoff, unable to help the jab. “For me maybe. You’re about to be somebody’s grandfather. I looked into one of those disabled parking badges for you the other day. That old age is creeping up fast.”

“Get fucked. You did not.”

“I did,” I confirm, stepping back and arching a brow as I cross my arms over my chest, feeling as though this is turning into some kind of tennis match. “Are you still going to marry me even if I say no?”

“Yep.”

“Then no, I won’t marry you.”

“Tough shit, Tilly Di Rozé. I forged the marriage certificate three months ago. You’re already my wife.”

My jaw drops again as both Zeph and Chloe fly to their feet, just as shocked as I am. “Tell me you’re lying.”

“I don’t lie, hellcat. Especially not about you, and especially not about making you my wife. However, I’d still like to have the wedding. To watch you walk down the aisle and vow to forever be mine.”

“You know how fucked up this is, right?”

Caesar nods. “Oh, I’m aware.”

“Good.”

“So, what’ll it be, hellcat? Are you going to marry me for real?

Because for these past few months, I’ve been your husband, and while technically you’ve been my wife, I want you to be my wife in here,” he says, pressing a hand to my heart.

“I want all of you. I want your mornings and your nights. I want to be your whole fucking world. I want your days beginning and ending with me until there are no more days left.”

Tears well in my eyes, and I let him pull me into his strong arms, his lips brushing over my temple in the world’s most unconventional marriage proposal. “You promise, every day until there’s no more days left?”

“I promise, Tilly. Just you and me.”

“And if I wanted to have babies one day?”

“Then we’ll have all the babies. Even if they turn out like Zeph.”

Well shit. This is a lot for one awkward dinner party.

“Okay,” I finally say, a smile pulling across my lips. “I’ll be your wife. I’ll even let you dress me up in a gown and walk down the aisle, but you better go get that ring before I change my mind.”

Caesar laughs before dropping his lips to mine and kissing me deeply.

Chloe squeals in delight, rushing around the couch and crashing into us, wrapping her arms around us both as Zephyr’s booming laugh tears across the room.

“Well, it’s not everyday you get to say that you fucked your step-mom before your dad did. ”

And with that, I shake my head and laugh. There’s nothing I love more than an awkward joke about fucking someone’s dad, and I guess now, Zeph’s the one who gets the last laugh.

Well fucking played.