Head On (Strength And Love)(50)

Tears prick my eyes, and I look away for a moment trying to get myself under control. I swallow the food in my mouth and take a sip of my drink. When I look back at him, he’s watching me.

“I’m in love with you, and I want more. I want you to be my family.”

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small box, which he places reverentially on the table between us.

“I want you to live with me, Isla. I want you to be my home.”

He opens the box and I gasp. It’s a gorgeous ring. Not big and flashy, but beautiful. It looks antique almost. In the centre is an aquamarine of the brightest blue, and it’s got two baguette cut diamonds either side of it. It’s a classy, art deco piece of jewellery. Now the tears won’t stop and they start to fall. I look to the ring, and back to him.

“Do you like it?” He frowns a little.

“I love it.”

He smiles and the relief in his eyes makes my heart warm. “I didn’t want to take you to a crowded place and do the whole down on one knee, making a scene thing, because I know you’re shy. And it’s not my thing either. I did ask your dad’s permission though.”

“You did?” It strikes me as an awfully old-fashioned thing for Ethan to have done.

He shrugs. “I wanted to make sure he was okay with us. Although, if he’d have said no, I’d still have asked you. But I didn’t want him to feel I’d try and come between your relationship with him.”

He pauses, takes a sip of his non-alcoholic wine, and looks up at me, dark lashes framing those deep blue eyes I love so much.

“So…what do you say?”

I jump up and run around to his side of the table. “Yes, I say yes.” I pepper his face with kisses and he laughs as he pulls me onto his knee.

“Put the ring on,” he tells me.

I pull the box toward me and take the ring out, putting it on my left hand and fumbling it twice, as I shake.

Once it’s on, I admire it.

“I hope you’re okay with it not being all diamond? But the aquamarine reminds me of your eyes.” He smiles at me, and I beam back, so full of love…wait. I realise I’ve not told him something important.

I lean in and whisper in his ear. “I love you, too, Ethan. And I want to be your home more than anything, and you can be mine.”

“Let’s get out of here.”

I pull back to look at him in surprise. “We haven’t had the steak yet.”

“I’m hungry for more than steak now,” he growls at me. And there he is, the rough, alpha male I know and love. And I realise he’s all these different sides. Rough and smooth, strong but gentle.

Most of all though, he’s mine.





Epilogue



I walk into the gym and Isla’s dancing around the punch bag, back to me, hitting it furiously, her fists flying. She’s been working hard for months now to build her fitness. We got married a few weeks ago, in a small ceremony, and we held the reception in the barn where I proposed to her. She finally got to taste my friend’s steak as we had that as one of the main course options.

Our honeymoon was two weeks in Italy, while Ann and Katie stayed here to look after the dogs. Sadie came with Isla when she moved in here, so we bought her dad a new pup, and he loves the damn thing. It’s a beautiful German Shepherd, and I want him to let me get it trained once it’s old enough to start in protection work. I’m sure Dave Dunn is going to leave Pete well alone, but you can never be too careful. As for Isla, Cindy is her new shadow, and she’s already well trained in what to do if anyone should try to harm my wife.

My wife! I love the sound of it.

She has worked her way around the punch bag and faces me now. As she bounces on her feet, those tits of hers that I love so much bounce too, and I’m done watching her. Striding into the room, I swoop her up in my arms.

“Put me down,” she shrieks.

I laugh. “Not a chance.”

“But I’m all sweaty,” she complains.

“I like you all sweaty,” I answer.

She giggles and puts her head in the crook of my neck, wrapping her arms around me. “You’re terrible.”

“You’re the one that’s always tempting me.”

She laughs into my neck. “I tempt you all the time, when I’m not doing anything to cause it. Like the other day when I bent over to take the dinner out of the oven.”

Oh, yeah. We’d had burnt offerings that night. “Maybe I should punish you for it. Always walking about the house tempting me left, right, centre.” I’m joking, but she doesn’t say anything, and her breathing increases.

I remember something then, a long-ago confession she whispered to me, back when we were new. A secret fantasy about being spanked. My steps quicken as my blood heats, and when we reach the bedroom, I throw her on the bed. She looks up at me with those big blues and I want to eat her up like the big bad wolf.

“You’ve been a naughty girl.” I shake my head. “And I’m going to have to punish you.”

“How are you going to punish me?” she asks, all fake innocence, and I smile at her bad acting.

“I’m going to have to spank you.” She gives a little squeak, but a wash of colour spreads up her chest and neck, telling me she likes the idea a lot.