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CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR

"You look gorgeous. Try not to be so nervous." He comes up behind me and kisses my shoulder, wrapping his arms around my waist.

"If your idea of calming me down is pressing your body against mine like that, let me just say, it’s having the opposite effect, sir."

"I can’t help myself. You look like a goddess in this pink dress."

" Hot pink, " I tease, even as my cheeks heat up from the compliment.

He rolls his eyes. "I’m a man. I only recognize black, white, red, green, blue, and yellow. You’re lucky I didn’t call it red."

I suppress a smile. Even though I’ve finally accepted I’m completely in love with the father of my child again, I’m still insecure when it comes to showing how I feel.

"I don’t know how to act. Brooklyn and Taylor told me to just be myself, but the truth is . . . my real self is kind of weird. What am I supposed to talk to your mom about? The crimes I’m investigating?"

It’s been over a month since I returned to work, and I’ve never felt more certain—it’s what I want to do for the rest of my life. But I highly doubt LJ’s mother will be thrilled about discussing the video I’m producing about homicides in the seventies.

"They’re right. Be yourself. Everyone falls in love with your quirks."

I start laughing and turn to face him in his arms. "You said that on purpose—to relax me."

"Yeah, but your quirks really are adorable."

For a moment, we fall quiet, and I feel a wave of anxiety as I try to decipher what’s behind his words.

"I love you, Alexis. I don’t think there’s a word big enough for what I feel, but I like naming things because I’m a control freak—so ‘love’ will have to do."

My heart starts racing. "How can you be sure you love me if you’ve never loved anyone before?"

"I’ve always loved you . I fell for you the day I saw you alone on that boat—and I hated not having control over myself.

But the moment I made you mine, I knew you’d be my only, my forever.

Our lives have been a mess until now. We got lost along the way, took wrong turns and hit dead ends—but in the end, we’re here again, together.

Exactly how it was always supposed to be.

If those.. ." He pauses, closing his eyes. "If so many tragedies hadn’t happened, I have no doubt we’d already be married. "

"You’re awfully confident, sir," I say, my eyes misting over.

"It’s okay if you’re still scared," he adds, reading me like an open book. "I don’t need to hear you say it back. I’ve always known you were mine. Just stop fighting us, beautiful. I’m not going to stop chasing you."

"Lazarus . . ."

He kisses my forehead and steps away. "Don’t move."

"Why not?"

"Just obey, woman."

He walks into the closet and comes back holding a small box.

"What are you . . ."

I don’t even finish the question because he kneels down in front of me.

"I was an idiot in the past, Alexis. I should’ve put a ring on your finger the moment I made you mine—because I knew my feelings wouldn’t change.

I’m never making that mistake again. I want you.

I want Sedric, and many more kids. I want your colors and your quirks. Your doubts and your fears. Your love."

Tears stream down my face as I extend my hand and nod. LJ wastes no time slipping the ring onto my finger like he’s afraid I might change my mind.

Then he stands and kisses me—deep, possessive, and full of meaning that no words could ever capture.

"You waited to propose until after I was cleared? Today’s the exact day the doctor lifted all restrictions," I say, blushing furiously. "Were you afraid my heart couldn’t take it?"

"No. I was going to do it later—deep inside your pussy. But let’s face it, babe—nothing ever goes according to plan with us."

The bedroom door, which had been left slightly ajar, opens all the way. Sedric appears in the nanny’s arms, absolutely adorable and dressed just like his father—black pants, loafers, and a pink dress shirt.

"Sorry to interrupt—he’s a little fussy and wouldn’t stop calling for ‘Mama,’" the nanny says awkwardly.

"No problem. You can put him down. We’re about to head out anyway," I reply.

She sets our little boy on the rug, and after giving me a quick kiss, LJ kneels down.

Sedric drops to his hands and knees and starts crawling, but my fiancé says, "On your feet, son. No more laziness. Come to Daddy."

He sits back on his bottom and looks from LJ to me, as if weighing the suggestion. Then he places one tiny hand on the wall . . . then the other. With some effort, he pulls himself up.

I start to step forward, but LJ says, "Wait. Let’s see what he does."

"But he might fall."

"There’s a fluffy rug beneath him, Alexis. Besides, I can reach him before he gets hurt. Come on, Sedric. Come to Daddy."

He wobbles, still holding on to the wall—then lets go.

I hold my breath, watching. And then, our son turns fully toward LJ and takes his first step. I cover my mouth so I don’t startle him with my excitement and watch, eyes brimming, as he walks—unaided—straight into his father’s arms.

"I knew you could do it, son."

" Chon !" he chirps, copying LJ.

"That’s right. You’re my son —and I’m your daddy."

"Papa! Papa! Papa!"

LJ turns to me with the biggest smile I’ve ever seen—like he’s just been named King of the World. "Did you hear that?"

"I did. Hold on a sec." I run to grab my phone and kneel beside them. "Sedric, say daddy," I prompt, hitting record.

"Mama! Mama! Mama!"

LJ bursts into laughter. "A true Seymour—always doing the opposite."