I inhale roughly at her confession. This isn’t a dream.
“I love you, Alexander Smith.” She laces one hand with mine, while pressing the other right over my thundering heart. It’s when I notice she’s no longer wearing the engagement ring. “Cage me forever.”
I collar her throat. “You’re here for me?”
“If you’ll have me.”
“What about Matt?”
“He’s not the one,” she rasps, smiling through the tears in her eyes. “It’s always been you, Alex. It took losing you to make me realize I was making a terrible mistake. I can’t be without you. I love you. Only you. Please take me back. Plea?—”
I crash my lips against hers, thrusting my tongue inside. Her arms go around my neck, kissing me back with fervor.
Grabbing her around the waist, I lift and place her ass on the hood of the car. She wraps her legs around my hips as I yank her head back and kiss her deeper. Our tongues duel, craving each other’s taste after being deprived of it for two terrible weeks.
“I missed you,” I rasp in between soft nips. “You’re never leaving me.”
“Never,” she pants.
“We’re getting married tomorrow.”
“Yes, okay.”
“And then I’m fucking you until you’re pregnant.”
“Our baby is going to want a sibling after he’s here.” She chuckles, making me freeze. “Or she.”
“What did you say?”
Her eyes twinkle with excitement and happiness. “I’m pregnant, Alex.”
“Y-you’re pregnant?” My voice comes out overwhelming.
Molly nods shyly. “We’ll have to come up with a story about how we conceived. No way I’m telling my kid that their dad kidnapped me on Halloween.”
I haul her against my chest, twirling us around. “We’re going to have a baby.”
She squeals, hugging me tighter.
I got everything I ever wanted.
My life is complete.
TWENTY-TWO
MOLLY
“Doyou want us to move back?” Alexander asks after fucking me thrice.
I draw circles on his pecs. The dark smattering of hair on his chest is turning me on all over again. He’s the definition of raw masculinity. “No. I want to start fresh here. Unless you want to go back to your hometown.”
“My home is wherever you are, sweet thing.”
I blush, melting into a puddle.
Twirling a lock of hair between his fingers, he gazes down at me with a concerned expression. “How did he take it?”
“I broke up with him on the day you left,” I reply sadly. “I was with him for the wrong reasons. Out of guilt. I told him I’ve been in love with you forever. That I was never on a retreat, but with you. He was livid, hurt, and heartbroken.”
