Excitedly, I hurry over to the door and fling it open. Evan is standing there with a huge bouquet of multi-colored roses. He hands them to me and kisses my cheek, lingering there.
“These are for you. You look beautiful,” he rasps into my ear.
“Thank you. Welcome. My roommate is out for the night,” I say, though I am not sure what that has to do with anything.
“Thank you. Can I help with anything?” he asks, slipping his boots off and putting them by the basket of shoes by the front door. I didn’t even have to ask him to do it. My mom was a stickler for no shoes in the house. It tracks all kinds of filth in from outside. I can still hear my mom’s lilting Irish accent as she shouts it all over the house. It’s crazy how those memories make me both happy and sad simultaneously. It’s bittersweet.
“Nope, it’s all ready. It’s just keeping warm in the oven.”
“Shall I pour us some wine?” he asks.
“That would be great. The table is over there.” I gesture to it. It’s already set. Putting on my Pioneer Woman oven mitts, I pull the casserole dish out of the oven and carry it over to the table. I set it down on the trivet on the table and sit down.
“This looks amazing. Is that shepherd’s or cottage pie?” he asks, and I’m shocked he knows the difference—Lamb versus ground beef. I’ve never met anyone who did, but that could just be because I’ve been sheltered. My father made sure that no one ever fucked with me. I am not even sure if Sean has stopped the guards or not, but they stay out of sight, so they are out of mind.
“Shepard’s pie,” I answer.
“My favorite.”
“Great. Dig in,” I say, grinning bigger than I need to.
Over dinner, we talk about everything. Any nervousness that I felt before he got here has long since evaporated.
“I couldn’t eat another bite. It was so good,” he says, standing to help me gather dishes.
“Oh, you don’t have to do that,” I say.
“Nonsense. You cooked; the least I can do is the dishes.”
“I’ll help. The dishwasher is a little temperamental,” I say, giggling again.
Together, we straighten the kitchen up, and it’s like we’ve been doing it forever. We grab our wine glasses and move to the living room couch. Is it really possible that I just met this man earlier today?
We chat some more. The longer we talk, the more we drink, but I’m drunk. I know what I’m doing when I move a little closer to him. His arm goes around me. Before I can process that, his lips are on mine. While this isn’t my first kiss, it is the first kiss I’ve ever had that sets my soul on fire.
The teenage make-out session quickly turns to more. Do I really want to give up my cherry to a man I just met? I think about that for a second, but as his lips devour my neck, my mind is made up.
“Evan?” I moan.
“Danica? Do you want me to stop?”
“No. Not at all.”
“Then what?”
“I’ve never done this before. I was saving myself for my husband,” I begin, but he cuts me off.
“You just met your fucking husband, Danica. Marry me,”
“I should tell you something first,” I tell him. As crazy as it is, I want to marry him. Being a pastor’s wife, being his wife, seems like the easiest thing in the world.
“You can tell me anything,” he growls, his lips moving back to my neck.
“My brother is the head of the O’Brien Crime Family, out of Newark.”
“What?” he asks, pulling back from me.
“I couldn’t possibly marry you without telling you. Secrets get you killed,” I murmur. The motto of my family and our closest allies, the Vitali’s from Queens, echoes in my head.
“Okay, well, I’m out then,” he says, standing.
“I totally understand,” I say, standing with him. My heart feels like it’s shattered into a million pieces.
“Just kidding,” he chuckles and pulls me into his arms. I barely get a chance to grin before his lips are on mine again. I wrap my arms around my neck and hold on for dear life.
“That wasn’t nice,” I fake pout.
“You’re mine now, Danica. For-fucking-ever.”
“You know, for a pastor, you’ve got a dirty mouth,” I tell him, my pussy clenching at his words.
“You have no idea how dirty I can be, Danica. No idea at all.”
“I can’t wait to find out.”
This is going to be a wild ride.
Chapter Five
EVAN
VALENTINE’S DAY
Yeah, it’s fast, but who cares? No one has to live the life we’ve chosen but us. We’ve made it to the Justice of the Peace, and I am beyond ready to make her mine.
We are just wearing everyday clothes, but I can’t imagine Danica ever looking more beautiful than she does right now. We stand in front of the older man, holding hands. Everything feels right. I know that I’m the luckiest man in the world, and I’ll do everything in my power to keep earning this woman for the rest of my life.