Kristen Ashley - For You

“We’re goin’ somewhere, anywhere , I drive and I don’t drive a fuckin’ Beetle.”

She rolled her eyes saying, “You’re such a man.”

This was true too but Colt decided not to agree to something that was obvious.

“Feb, not gonna say it again,” Colt warned her. “Come here.”

He watched as her eyes locked on him and her body locked too.

Then she asked, “Why?”

“Just do it.”

“Why?”

“Feb –” he started.

But she muttered, “Oh all right,” dropped her arms and walked to him in the kitchen. As she did so, he put his hand in his pocket, palmed the ring there and pulled his hand back out.

She stopped in front of him, tipped her head back and asked, “What?”

Colt leaned his hips back against the counter and looked at her.

There had been a time in his life when he knew without a doubt this moment would come and then there was a time in his life when he knew without a doubt this moment would never come. The first he took for granted. The second had cut so deep, it’d been raw for decades and he’d had to learn, with some difficulty, to ignore it.

When he was twenty-two, he’d had thoughts of tulips and candlelight and even getting down on his knee.

Now that the time was there, he didn’t mind that he was going to do it in a kitchen with his hips against the counter and Feb impatient to get to Costa’s so she could do what he was just then going to do. He knew from the way she behaved at the Station that she wanted to talk about marriage and he wasn’t about to let her do it without his ring on her finger.

“You know I love you,” he told her and her ear dipped to her shoulder just as her eyes went soft and her lips tipped up.

“Yeah,” she whispered.

“Love you enough to let you get that damned car,” he said and the softness went out of her face.

“I’m thinkin’ the word ‘let’ when you’re talkin’ about me should be banished from this house,” she declared and Colt grinned.

“Love you enough to let you spend your money on my garage.”

“ Our garage.”

“Instead of heels.”

“Colt, hello?” she called. “Black, red…” she pointed to her feet, “now matte silver.”

“Matte silver?” Colt repeated, still grinning.

“The color of my shoes,” she informed him and he looked down.

“Is that what that’s called?”

“Like you care,” she mumbled and he looked back at her.

“You’re right, I don’t care.”

She rolled her eyes and his hand shot out, nabbing her behind her neck and pulling her forward. She lost her balance and landed full-body against him, her hands at his waist, fingers curled into the material of his shirt there as his other arm snaked around her waist.

He wrapped his fist in her hair and tugged her head back. “Love it when you roll your eyes, baby,” he whispered and her expression grew soft again.

“What’s got into you tonight?” she whispered back, her eyes searching his face. “You’re acting weird.”

“I want it big,” he answered and those dents formed at her brows again. “The biggest.”

“Want what big?”

“Our wedding.”

She closed her eyes and lifted her brows and when she opened them again, his right hand took her left and pulled it in front of them. He watched her eyes drop to their hands but he didn’t take his from hers so he could watch the wonder that stole into her features as he slid his ring on her finger.

When he’d seated the ring at the base, he repeated quietly, “The biggest.”

“Colt,” she whispered to their hands, her eyes on the diamond there.

“Food, a band, dancing, a shitload of flowers and you in a white dress,” Colt told her, pressing her hand flat to his chest and her eyes went to his as his arm curled back around her waist to hold her body close.

“Colt.”

“We’re ridin’ away on a Harley, though.”

“Colt.”

“Honeymoon on a beach.”

“Colt.”

His head came down and he put his mouth to hers. “I’m gonna fuck you in the sand under the stars.”

Both her hands curled around his neck, her fingers going into his hair and she whispered, “Colt.”

“You gonna marry me, baby?”

She tipped her head so their foreheads were pressed together and she rubbed her nose along the side of his before she said, “Yeah.”

His eyes dropped to her mouth and he muttered, “Good.”

Before he could kiss her, she pulled her head away.

“Can I say something?” she asked.

“After I kiss you.”

“No, before.”

“What?”

“I just have one question to ask.”

“The answer is yes.”

Her lips tipped up, her face got that soft look yet again and Colt’s hand tightened automatically in her hair as his arm at her waist gave her a squeeze.

“That’s good,” she whispered.

“What’s good?” he asked.

“That the answer is yes. ‘Cause, see, I still wanna name our son Jack or, if it’s a girl, our daughter Jacqueline.”

Colt’s body turned to stone, his mind blanked, his stomach dropped but his mouth moved to form one, quiet word. “What?”

“If the baby I’m carrying is a boy, I want to name him –”

Feb didn’t get to finish because before she could Colt yanked her even closer, took her mouth with his and he kissed her.

The phone rang and Stavros Costa rushed to it.

“Costa’s,” he answered.

“Stavros, it’s Colt.”

Stavros looked down at his reservation book then up at the clock then he rolled his eyes, knowing what was coming.

“You’re cancelling,” Stavros said into the phone. “Again,” he finished.

“We’re on our way.”

“It’s nine o’clock, you’re two hours late.”

“Coupla things came up.”

“I gave your table away, Colt, an hour ago.”

“Got another one?”

“Colt –”

Stavros heard Colt cut in. “February’s wearin’ my ring and carryin’ my baby, Stavros.” Stavros sucked in breath at this long awaited, very welcome, unbelievably happy news and Colt finished. “Now, you got a table or what?”

Stavros grinned into the phone. “Don’t got one, I’ll build one.”

He put down the phone on Alexander Colton’s laughter.