Bring It Home (Nashville Assassins Next Generation 3)

“Or even now. Think we can find a preacher?”

“Boon!” I squeal, and he grins. I love how happy he is. I love how happy he makes me feel.

“Marry me tomorrow, Posey. Come on, what are we waiting for?”

He’s right. What the hell are we waiting for? But I have to act logically. “Be real, Boon.”

Boon takes me by my face, his smile so wide, I feel his happiness in my soul. “I am being real. I want to marry you now. I don’t want a long engagement. For what? A small wedding? Right? You don’t want a huge wedding.”

I shake my head, moving his hands with it. “I don’t. I just want us and my family and your mom.”

“Exactly. So, what’s stopping us from doing it tomorrow?”

I’m breathless; my body is firing off like mad as I get lost in his eyes.

“We can have a wedding, tell everyone that we’re pregnant, and just celebrate us before attention goes back to the Assassins and then Shelli and Aiden.”

“This is crazy. Who gets engaged and then married the next day?”

“Us. We do.”

I’m unable to make sense of this. He can’t be serious, but when I look closer, his eyes are pleading with mine. He wants this. Shit, I want this. I want to be married to him. I want to be with him for the rest of my whole life. As his wife. All of a sudden, I don’t want to wait.

“What’s holding us back?” he asks.

“Nothing.”

“Nothing,” he agrees, his hands shaking against my face. “Marry me tomorrow, Posey. Don’t make me wait to call you my wife.”

A tear spills down over my cheek and not because of his request or even his words. It’s from the simple fact that I never thought a man could love me, Posey Rose Adler, the way Boon does. “Will you not be mad about me hiding the baby?”

He grins. “Yes, this is the only way.”

I grin back. “Good. I’ll marry you tomorrow, then.”

Our laughter, along with a sob—not sure from whom, probably both of us—crashes together as we sink into the bed.

The same bed I’ll be sharing with my husband after tomorrow.

Oh man. My dad is gonna freak.

Chapter Two

Boon

I bring my heel up on the toilet seat as I send a text back to the minister I’ve hired for today. I lean on my knee while I look up, watching as Posey showers. She’s so fucking gorgeous. So perfect. And she’s carrying my baby. My baby. Our miracle.

“I hired a minister who comes highly recommended. He knows nothing about us, so I told him to Google me and know you are the best thing that has ever happened to me. I’m sure he’ll use that during the wedding.”

I’m marrying her today. I take in a deep breath as her laughter floats toward me. “Google me? Think highly of yourself, don’t you, Hoenes?”

“Sure do, future Mrs. Hoenes.”

She peeks her face out the shower door. “Right? Like, within hours.”

“Scared?” I ask, waggling my brows at her, but she just grins. She grins so big, her face looks as if it hurts. Her eyes are full of such excitement and, to be honest, a little bit of fear. I know she’s worried about what her parents will say. Especially her dad. I thought about wearing a mouthguard at dinner, but I don’t want to show weakness. My new plan is to hide behind his pregnant daughter. Surely she can distract him.

“You’re the one who looks scared,” she teases before stepping back to wash her hair.

The shower door is clear glass, so watching the suds move along that hot body of hers makes it really tight in my slacks. I would jump in there with her, but I’m ready to go get married. I’m wearing my burgundy slacks with a short-sleeve, light-blue button-up shirt that I’ve left open at the neck, showing my chest a bit. I asked if she wanted me to wear a tie or a bow tie, but she didn’t. She wanted me to look relaxed, as if it’s just a night of us enjoying dinner in. I reminded her that meant she had to be naked, but she didn’t go along with it.

So rude.

Instead, she’s going to wear this incredible navy-blue strapless dress that flows over her body like a picturesque wave. It hugs her breasts perfectly before draping down to the floor. She wore it to a benefit we had, and I promptly rid her of it the moment we got into our place. I inhale hard when she moves her loofah between her legs to wash. That should be my hand. A groan leaves my lips as I say, “I’m not scared of anything.”

She laughs freely. “Yes, you are. Me.”

“Losing you, yes, that terrifies me.”

She grins. “Smooth.”

“I know,” I agree, unable to watch her or I’ll go in there. “So, remind me again why we aren’t telling everyone about the baby tonight?”