Willing Captive(69)

He says, “Come here, Lily,” and pats his thigh.

A little hurt at his lack of enthusiasm, I pout and stay where I am. Giving me a firm look, he pats his thigh again and says, “I said get over here, Lily.” And it’s so much like the old Nox that I stand immediately, and move over to him.

When I’m a foot away from him, he takes hold of my wrist and pulls me down onto his lap. Immediately worried about his leg, I blurt out, “I don’t want to hurt you.”

And what he says next makes me warm all over. “Been hurting a long time. You can’t see this type of hurt, though. Broken hearts don’t mend easily. And you’re not hurting me right now, baby. But even if you were, it would hurt so sweet.” Turning to face him, I kiss his lips softly and sigh. He pulls back a little. “Also, I love that you love me enough to want to marry me, but where I come from, it’s a man’s duty to ask. And I love knowing that when I’m good and ready to propose to my girl, she’ll say yes. But I don’t have a lot left to give, so please give me this, and let me do it in my own time.” He leans into my hair and murmurs, “But it’ll come soon, baby. After all this, I know I can’t live without you.”

And just like that, my hurt pride shrugs and smiles while giving me a thumbs up.

My eyes crinkle, and I place a slow kiss on his cheek. I answer softly, “Okay, honey.”

He reaches into his pocket and smiles. “Good. Because this ring has been weighing me down for three months.”

My eyes widen, and my mouth gapes, as I watch him open the red velvet box.

The white gold ring is simple and elegant, with a row of baguette diamonds across the top.

Biting my lip, I squeak and he laughs while asking, “Delilah Flynn. I love you more than I thought possible. I want to live the rest of my life with you, if you’ll have me.” Just about to answer, he adds, “I don’t know if I’ll ever be the man I was before. I just want you to know that, because I’ll understand if you don’t want a damaged man as a husband.”

Not even bothering to acknowledge that last statement, I bend down as he reaches up.

Our lips meet in a slow but deep kiss and I mutter against him, “I can’t wait to be Lily Taylor.”

I feel him smile against my mouth. Pecking my lips, he asks something that makes me go rigid. “Want to meet my mom?”





Chapter Twenty-Four

Parental Units





Two weeks later…





Lily





Nox drives up to the place I used to call home, and I smile remembering this is where we first met.

My fiancé didn’t like the fact that my dad and I have grown apart, so he came up with an idea that will, hopefully, bring us all together again. He requested a family dinner.

That’s right. Nox requested a family dinner.

He also filled me in on a little secret that no one knows about. His mom always knew her son was alive. And I came to know this when we went to visit her last week. I was nervous and a total mess. Nox laughed at me, “Babe, seriously. She knows all about you. I send her letters every week. She already loves you.”

I scoffed, “Oh, sure! She loves the little harlot that almost got her son killed!”

He gave me the stink eye. “Don’t ever say that again. Ever.”

Rolling my eyes, I turned my head and wore a secret smile.

Every day I was getting a piece of the old Nox back. More bossiness and less doubt. I was loving every second of rediscovering my man.

We had yet to do the deed again, but I was willing to be as patient as possible, especially after witnessing a full-blown anxiety attack that was so bad, that I had to strip him and wipe his shaking body down with a cool cloth.

It seems Nox has nightmares. He says they’re getting better, and I’m inclined to believe him because in that first week, he had three, and this week, he hasn’t had a single one.

But watching my man be all determined and strong is seriously winding me up. I can’t wait until we get back to the bedroom.

As soon as we exited the car, a small woman with coifed hair, dressed in a sweet, pastel pinafore dress under an apron, and wiping her hands with a dishcloth, came running out of the house screaming, “You’re here! You’re finally here!”

What shocked me even more was that this little woman basically pushed her son out of the way to scoop me up in a warm hug, and said in the best southern twang I’d ever heard, “Lily, child, I wondered when I’d be seeing you! Oh dear. The things you’ve gone through,” she clucked. “Come inside and let Mama feed you.”

Ignoring her now-laughing son, she smacked him with the dish towel, took me by the hand, and led me inside her gorgeous house in the middle of nowhere.

Trudging behind us with his cane, he called out, “Mama, you make your biscuits?”

She puffed out her chest. “Darn tootin’ I made my biscuits. Gravy too, baby.” She turned to me. “Just the way he likes ‘em,” she said, patting my hand.

We visited with Clare, who insisted I call her Mama, for two days. By the end of the visit, I was seriously sad to go. I loved having someone to talk about Nox with.

We sat for lunch that last day, and I poured some iced tea for us all. When I went to add sugar to Nox’s, he shook his head and grinned, “Sweet tea’s for pussies, babe.”