Be My Brayshaw (Brayshaw High #4)(120)

I swallow, nodding as I move my eyes to his. “Thank you. For everything you did for us, for taking us in, for giving me my brothers and for being a father to Royce and me when only Maddoc was yours to care for.”

“You were all mine, and I love you equally.”

“And I’ll love my nieces and nephews, as they come, just the same. Like my own. Like you.”

His eyes gloss over and he glances away. “Go home, Captain. Today is not the day I cry in front of you.”

A light laugh leaves me and I wrap him in a hug.

“Thank you for allowing me to be your father, son,” he whispers as he pulls away, quickly walking toward Maybell on the other side of the park.

I meet Victoria in my truck and head home.

Her eyes slide to mine when I don’t get out right away, and I smile, lifting her hand and kissing along her knuckles. “They took Zoey for ice cream,” I tell her.

She smirks, leaning over. “That right?”

“That’s right. Go up to my room, Beauty. I’m right behind you.”

“Aye, Aye, Captain,” she teases as she hops out.

I wait a couple minutes, leg bouncing all the while and then head out, taking the stairs two at a time.

Okay, Beauty. Here we go.





Life.

I rewatched the videos Maria left me, for the fifth or sixth time, and then I typed in Zoey’s name and learned what I didn’t know.

Zoey means life.

And full of life she is.

She smiles with her heart and cries from her soul, loves with all she is and listens with all she has. She’s strong and intuitive and perfect.

As is the girl who helped assure she was brought into this world, for her and for me.

This girl, she’s stubborn, bratty, and doesn’t listen for shit, but I like her that way.

Love every piece of her.

But if she keeps pretending to like candy to appease my little girl, I might throw her ass out.

“What the hell?” she whispers, only to yelp when I sneak behind her, squeezing her hips.

She whips around, laughing and shoves me in the chest.

“I knew you couldn’t handle seeing it open without reading,” I tease her.

“Well, you left it open.” She pushes me back, falling on top of me.

“I did.” I push her hair over her shoulder. “Keep reading, Beauty.”

Her eyes narrow, and I reach behind her, dragging it to my chest, my eyes on hers as hers fall to the paper.

Did that get your attention, baby?

I hope so, and I also hope you know how wrong that is.

I know there is still so much to learn about you, and I need you to understand I’m here for it. All of it.

I want all your past and every minute of your future, and not just for now, Beauty.

I want to be the king of your kingdom.

Today.

Tomorrow.

Always.

I want you to wear a ring that says you’re mine.

Her lips part, her eyes popping up to mine as she chokes on her own words.

“Turn the page, baby,” I whisper.

She does and taped to the center is a white gold band with a single amethyst flower in the center.

I push her shirt up, tucking it into her bra so I can trace the tattoo hidden there.

She doesn’t run around showing her stomach, but she no longer goes out of her way to hide it either. Her shirts are no longer constantly tucked in or half past her hips, and if she’s self-conscious about them, you’d never know it.

It was all about hiding the words etched into her skin, the ones she felt she hadn’t earned and couldn’t explain, not the battle wounds beneath them.

“I’m the anchor.” I run my fingertips along the tattoo. “You’re the waves, and this is our ocean.”

“I suck at swimming,” she whispers.

A chuckle leaves me, and she sinks against my chest. “That’s what my chain is for. For you to climb when you feel weak, for you to hold when you feel alone, for you. All for you.”

I sit up, pushing my hand into her hair, and her eyes move to mine. “You said you felt your life started with a purple flower, it’s only right your future starts the same. As mine. As ours,” I whisper. “Me and Zo.”

Her tears fall with her next blink, and I reach up to catch them.

“It’s tradition in this family to marry young, but even if it wasn’t, I’d ask you for this, for your word. Be my wife, Beauty. It can be later, I don’t care, but wear my ring, make me this promise.”

Her eyes fall back to the page.

As her fingers lift, tracing along the single question just above the ring, I read the words out loud.

“So what do you say, baby, will you be my Brayshaw?”

She slips the ring from the paper, placing it in her open palm, and waits.

A small smirk curves her lips, eyes follow as I wrap my fingers around her wrist and shift closer.

I dip my head down to grasp the custom piece between my teeth and position her ring finger to my lips. Ever so slowly, I glide the proof she’ll always be mine into its place, and as I slide my mouth up, my eyes lock with hers.

A deep brown, darker than ever.

A little soft and a lot wild.

Victoria’s lips part, and with my grip still strong around her wrist, she gently falls back on the comforter, her thighs rubbing together.