Tangled (The Tangled Series)(73)

She’s not into florals, and I thank Christ for that. She likes stripes, paisleys, and earth tones. Why am I telling you this, you ask? What does it have to do with anything?

You remember the Bat Cave, don’t you? My home office. My firstborn. My strictly dickly, men-only region? Well, it’s gotten a sex change. No, that’s not really accurate. It’s more of a hermaphrodite now.

Watch.

I turn the light on and bring Kate to the middle of the room. Then I untie the scarf.

Her eyes widen. “Oh, my…”

The once burgundy walls are now a majestic blue. The English leather couches are history. In their place are two sofas, striped in warm tan and the same deep blue as the walls. My desk is shifted to the left—to make room for the lighter cherry one that sits next to it, side by side, like a bride and groom on their wedding day. The picture window behind them is framed with drapes in the same material as the sofas. And the poker table’s still in the corner. But now it’s got a stiff brown cover over it—to support the large, leafy plant that sits on top. I don’t usually do live plants. My thumb’s about as green as Morticia Adams’s. But the interior decorator said women were into them. Some shit about the nurturing instinct.

Pretty amazing what you can accomplish in a short time when you’ve got an interior decorator with a team of workers at your disposal and money isn’t an issue, right? But curtains are a real bitch to hang. I did those myself—wanted to personally add a few touches. And I almost put the rod through the frigging window a dozen times before I got them straight.

I watch Kate’s face closely. But I can’t tell what she’s thinking. She’s blank. Stunned. Like an eyewitness to a double homicide.

I swallow hard. And start the most important pitch of my life:

“I watched The Notebook again.”

It’s still so f*cking gay.

However…

“I get it now. Why Noah put that art room together for Allie. It wasn’t because he was a vagina; it was because he didn’t have a choice. She was it for him. No matter what he did, there was never gonna be anyone but her. So all he could do was set up the room and hope to God that one day she’d show up to use it. And that pretty much sums up exactly how I feel about you. So I did this—” I gesture around the room “—because I want you in my life, Kate. Permanently.”

Her eyes settle on me. And they’re shining with tears.

“I want you to move in here with me. I want to fall asleep with your hair in my face every night. And I want to wake up wrapped around you every morning. I want us to spend whole weekends without any clothes on at all. I want to have clean fights and dirty makeup sex.”

She laughs at that one. And a single tear slips silently down her cheek.

“I want to talk to you until the sun comes up, and I want to bring you cereal in bed every Sunday. I want to work long, endless hours in this office, but only if you’re here next to me.”

Her voice is barely a whisper. “Like a partnership? Fifty-fifty split?”

I shake my head. “No. Not fifty-fifty. You don’t get just half of me. You get all of me. A hundred percent.”

She breathes deep. And bites her lip. And glances down at her desk. Then her face goes slack.

“Where did you get that?”

It’s her parents’ wedding picture.

“I stole it from your office and had it copied while you were at lunch.”

She shakes her head slowly. And looks back up at me. In awe. “I can’t believe you did all this.”

I take a step forward. “I know you just got out of a relationship and I’ve never been in one. And I know I’m supposed to tell you that if you’re not ready, that it’s okay. That I’ll be patient and wait. But…if I say those things…I’ll be lying. Because…I’m just not a waiting kind of guy. I’m more of a take-the-bull-by-the-horns, keep-at-you-until-you-break-or-go-insane kind of guy.”

She chuckles again.

“So if this isn’t enough, if you need something more—tell me. No matter what it is, I’ll do it. For you.”

When I’m done, she just stands there. Staring at me.

She licks her lips and wipes her eyes. “I have some conditions.”

I nod cautiously.

“No lying. I mean it, Drew. When you tell me something, I have to know that it’s the truth. That you don’t have some ulterior motive.”

“Okay.”

“And no other women. I think I’m pretty adventurous in bed when it comes to you, but I’m monogamous. I don’t swing. I don’t do threesomes.”

Not a problem. My dick only has eyes for Kate.

“Me neither. Well, you know, not anymore. I mean…agreed.”

And then she smiles. And it’s blinding. Luminous.

Fucking incandescent.

And she steps toward me. “Well, Mr. Evans…it looks like you’ve got yourself a merger.”

And that’s all I need to hear.

I move like a spring that’s been cocked too tight for too long. And before Kate can take a breath, I’ve got her crushed against me—holding her, lifting her right off her feet.

Our mouths snap together like two magnets. She grips my shirt. And my tongue slides into her welcoming mouth.