“What?” she breathes, cutting off my thoughts.
“What?” I say back.
“You’re smirking. What were you just thinking about?”
“How fucking hot you look pregnant with my baby.” Her one brow quirks up. “And how I’m planning to knock you up again and again so I can keep you like this…”
Her eyes go wide in shock. “You’re crazy.”
“About—”
She covers my mouth with her hand. “Don’t you dare say that cheesy shit!” she says through a giggle.
I peel her hand off my mouth. “Here’s something not cheesy.” I grip her hips and flip her onto her back. “I want you, Dash. Every day, for the rest of our lives.” I kiss her lips. “I want you pregnant with my babies, living under the same roof as me. I want to come home from work and spend my nights with you. Hell, I want to spend my days with you. Now that you’ve let me in, I want all of you, baby.”
“You have me,” she says. “You have all of me. When you come back, I want to live together. You can tell the world we’re together and expecting a baby. I’m all in.”
Her words are the most exquisite music to my ears, but they’re not enough.
“I want more,” I admit. “I know that makes me selfish. But I want everyfuckingthing.”
She frowns. “What else do you want?”
“You…as my wife.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
SOPHIA
Holy shit. He wants me as his wife. Several thoughts go through my head at once: is it too soon? Is he only asking because I’m pregnant? Do I love him? Does he love me? Shouldn’t we be in love before we agree to get married? I care about him, and I want to be with him, but marriage… that’s a huge commitment. My parents got married because my mom was pregnant and look how that ended.
My features must betray my thoughts because Easton’s face falls. “Soph…”
“I want to,” I tell him honestly. “But I want to make sure we’re both certain. We haven’t even dated or lived together. I need to know that when I say yes, when we say our vows, we both believe we have a chance at making it forever. I know there’s no way of actually knowing that, and I get that everything can change in a blink of an eye, but I need to feel like we have a solid chance. Does that make sense?”
“It does.” He kisses me softly. “So what you’re saying is, I need to woo you to the point you’re begging me to marry you.”
He smirks, and I sigh in relief that he’s not mad. “I will not be begging you to marry me,” I scoff. “But yes, a little more wooing would be good. I want to get to know you, and I want you to get to know me.”
“Ahh…so does that mean you’ll be doing some wooing of your own?”
I can’t help but laugh every time he says the word woo. “You want to be wooed?”
“Damn right, I do.” He smirks.
“Fine, so I guess I’ll be wooing you too.” I roll my eyes playfully.
“All right then,” he says. “Let the wooing commence.”
“Can I have a hint?”
“Nope.”
“Not even a little one?”
“Nope.”
“But how about—”
“Dash, you’re worse than the six-year-old sitting in the back seat,” Easton says through a laugh. “Where we’re going is a surprise and I’m not telling you anything a second before you see the signs and find out where we’re going on your own.”
I pout, crossing my arms over my chest, and huff. I hate surprises. I like to know what’s happening, where we’re going, so I can prepare. When Kendall and I woke up this morning, Easton was already awake and giddy as hell, ready to go. He said to bring the luggage we brought, in case there’s anything we need, and insisted we get on the road immediately. We stopped at the donut shop for breakfast and coffee and then he jumped on the freeway, heading east. He had mentioned before he was excited to show us around where he lives, so I’m confused as to why it seems like we’re leaving.
“Can you at least tell me how long it’s going to take?”
Easton laughs again. “Wow, remind me never to go on a road trip with you.” He reaches over the center console of his humungous Lincoln Navigator and squeezes my thigh. “What is it parents always say to their kids when they ask how long it will take?” He tilts his head to the side and smirks. “We’ll get there when we get there.”
Kendall giggles from the back seat in her pink booster seat Nicole had waiting in the vehicle that picked us up from the airport and Easton installed this morning into his SUV. “Mommy always says that to me.”
Easton throws his head back, laughing harder. “What else does she say, K?”