Moira Rogers - Crossroads

“Mmm, most women have one.” She tilted her head back. “Mine’s Regency rakes. Your cousin likes cowboys. The dirty kind.”

“I could have lived another decade without knowing that, thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Uh-huh. If your sister’s likely to be alarmed by dirty cowboys, maybe you should vet the books. Mac took Kat out book shopping to try to cheer her up, and they ended up spending about five hundred bucks.”

“I’m not surprised.” His body was warm against hers, and Nick slipped her hands into Derek’s back pockets.

He just held her tighter and lowered his voice. “I know you two want to spend your birthday together, but I was hoping you might sneak away with me for the night after we celebrate. A nice hotel room far away from people with superhearing.”

She’d been remarkably well behaved while he recovered from his injuries, but now she bit his jaw lightly and growled. “Yes. I need some time alone with you.”

“I’ll make a reservation.” He twisted his head and caught her lips in a brief but hard kiss. “Can’t wait, baby.”

“Yes, you can, because you have to.” She pulled free of his arms. “Did you find out what’s for dinner?”

“Uh-uh. I delegated.”

“Of course you did.” One more kiss, and she pulled him toward the kitchen. “Let’s go help. Well, you can help. I’ll watch.”

“Or we can both watch.” His fingers tightened around hers. “Fighting Conclave members to the death is one thing, but I’m not invading Gus’s territory without permission.”

She didn’t blame him. “Fair enough. We’ll stand here and make out, then.”

For the first time in weeks, Michelle surprised her with a laugh. “No, you won’t. You two had better get out of the way before this baby decides his mommy’s too hungry and moves you himself.”

Nick felt weak with relief. Michelle would be okay. It wouldn’t be quick or easy, but nothing good ever was. Life goes on, and the very fact that her sister could still laugh through her pain made it all right for Nick to move on as well, to make plans and look forward to the life she and Derek could make together.

She pulled his hand to her lips and kissed the back of it. “Lesson number one, baby. Never get between a Peyton and food. Learn it, live it, and you’ll be just fine.”

“Oh God .” Nick couldn’t hold back her moan as she clutched Derek’s arm. “Oh God, try this one. It’s a caramel.”

“Christ, no more.” Derek laughed and swatted at her hand, but his eyes glinted when the chocolate dropped from her fingers to land between her breasts. His grin turned to a leer as he wiggled his eyebrows at her. “Unless I get to lick it off you.”

“Fine chocolate,” she declared, “is messy. And since my only other option is to clean it up with the sheets…” She leaned back on the pillows and flashed him an expectant look.

His tongue teased up her stomach, hot and taunting, but he caught the chocolate between his teeth and sat up without following through. “No way, evil temptress,” he said as soon as he’d swallowed the caramel. “You’re not fooling me into another round of hot, sweaty birthday sex until you open your present.”

“I already have everything I want.” She had more than everything. She’d never imagined the kind of satisfaction that came from having instead of constantly wanting .

“Too bad.” He leaned over the side of the bed, so far she worried for a moment that he’d pitch off the edge. He resurfaced with a long, neatly wrapped package.

It couldn’t have been his own handiwork, because he’d joked about his poor wrapping skills when he’d given Michelle her gift. Nick took the package and stared at it. “You brought me here, Derek. You didn’t have to get me anything.”

“If it makes you feel better, I didn’t buy you anything.” He cleared his throat and nodded to the carefully folded paper. “Your sister wrapped it. If you don’t open it, she’ll pout.”

She tore at the package, and the paper fell away to reveal a carved wooden box. “You made me a jewelry box? It’s…” Her voice failed her when she opened the lid on its delicate hinges.

A gold ring she recognized instantly sat nestled on the top tier of the jewelry box, its glittering diamond catching the dim light. “My mother’s ring.”

He leaned close behind her, and his whisper skated across her shoulder. “Your father gave it to me the night after the fight.”

The ring had been one of her only links to her mother, a tangible reminder that she’d had one, and Nick had spent a good portion of her childhood romanticizing it. Her hands shook, rattling the box as she caught Derek’s gaze. “That he would do that means a lot, but you—you shouldn’t feel pressured to give it to me. We have time—”

“Pressured?” He made an amused noise. “Baby, I hope your father never tells you how he ended up giving me that thing, because I vaguely recall a morphine-induced rant about how I’d love you more with one arm than any man could with two, and if he didn’t like it I’d send him a postcard from Vegas.” He plucked the ring from its resting place and held it up. “He spent twenty minutes convincing me my arm was still there and came back that night with the ring.”

Trying to imagine her father’s reaction to Derek’s belligerent, intoxicated challenge elicited a slightly hysterical giggle. “You want to marry me so badly that you went toe-to-toe with the Alpha?”

“Mmm, and I still thought I only had one arm, so that would’ve been a short fight.” His lips brushed her cheek. “Marry me, Nick. Marry me and keep me out of trouble.”

She turned her head and whispered against his mouth. “It’s the least I can do, seeing as how I love you madly and never want to be without you.”

He nipped her lower lip. “Don’t need a big wedding, just family. Kat, your dad, your sister and Luke.”

“I think everyone else will understand.”

“If you want something crazy fancy, I’ll do it for you. I’d do anything for you.”

“Fancy’s not my style. Barefoot on the beach, maybe.” They could work out the details later. Right now, all she needed was him, so she climbed into his lap and slid her arms around his neck. “I don’t expect you to do anything like that for me. Just love me.”

“Love me back enough to let me,” he countered.

“You drive a hard bargain.” Still, she held out her left hand.

He eased the ring onto her finger with a wide, goofy smile. “I love you a whole damn lot, Nicole Parker Peyton.”

Her heart was going to pound out of her chest. The ring was warm from his hand, and she stared at it for a moment, wondering. “How am I this lucky?”

“Dunno.” His lips brushed hers, tender and perfect. “Think for a few decades and let me know what you figure out.”

“Deal.” She pushed him to the bed, mindful of his healing shoulder, and kissed him back.

There were no more words, nothing but whispered pleas and hitching breaths. She took her time, exploring him with her hands and lips and tongue, a memorization and a promise that it wouldn’t be the last time. It was only the beginning, and she felt dizzy, almost giddy, every time he arched under her. It was the same thing she’d felt since he’d won his challenge and staked his claim on her, belonging and contentment and happiness , so entwined that sex seemed like an afterthought and a necessity, all at once.

Love. He reached for her, his hands shaking as he drew her close to his chest and thrust into her. Every pulse of pleasure burned hotter than the last, and she whispered to him between kisses. “Love you.”