Page 20 of Rescuing the Writer

He shrugged as he attempted to undo the buttons on his uniform. I slapped his hands away and did it for him. “That’s why Doc trains us every year for emergency situations like this. Thanks to him, I knew exactly what to do.”

I peeled him out of his uniform shirt, then helped him out of his soaking-wet pants. “Let’s get you into a lukewarm shower to warm up.”

He’d been the one to teach me that when someone was hypothermic, a hot shower or bath wasn’t smart because it could induce a heart attack. I wasn’t taking any chances. Besides, with how cold he was, lukewarm would feel warm the first two minutes, and then we could crank up the temperature.

Waylon gave me one of those soft smiles, almost indulgent, as he kissed me with cold lips. “Sounds like a plan.”

I didn’t often get to take care of him, but when it happened, I took it seriously. So, while I parked him in the shower, I quickly got some water boiling for tea and put some tomato soup from the freezer into the microwave to defrost. My culinary skills had improved a little, and I now excelled at making a grilled cheese sandwich, which happened to be Waylon’s favorite, especially when paired with homemade tomato soup.

When he’d sufficiently warmed up, he got dressed again—I made sure he wore warm woolen socks and the thickest sweater I could find—and curled up on the couch under a blanket I brought from our bedroom. I heated the soup while he sipped his tea, and a few minutes later, he was munching on his grilled cheese sandwich since the soup was too hot to eat.

“How was your day?” he asked me.

I made a face. “I was self-editing.”

“Ouch. Did you make good progress?”

“I need one more hour, I think, but I can do that Monday.”

As soon as he’d finished his sandwich, I snuggled against him and put my head on his lap. He immediately put his big hand on my head and started scratching my scalp. I felt like a kitten about to purr. Why was something so simple the best feeling in the world?

“Why not finish it tomorrow morning?”

“Because you’re off, and I want to spend time with you.”

“I’ll be doing my workout anyway, and if you do it first thing, we’ll have the rest of the weekend together.”

“If I do it Monday, we’ll have all day tomorrow and Sunday together. And I like watching you when you work out.”

He chuckled. “I see how it is. You’re hoping for sweaty sex.”

He wasn’t wrong. I loved fucking him when he was all sweaty after a workout. For some reason, that cranked my engine. “Are you complaining? As I recall, you’re always happy to indulge me.”

“Oh, I am, so how about we do this? If you finish your edits now, I promise to be extra sweaty tomorrow and be inside you as soon as my workout is finished.”

He wasn’t playing fair, but it showed how well he knew me. Waylon used every weapon in his considerable arsenal to make me do what was good for me, and how could I get upset about that? “You really know how to motivate me, huh?”

He grinned as he bent over and kissed the top of my head. “I will use any method I need to take care of you.”

“Because you love me.”

“Because I love you,” he confirmed.

Sometimes, the realization of how lucky I was to be loved by this man hit me all over again. Like now. What had I done in life to deserve this much love? To be this intensely happy? To spend the rest of my life with the most amazing partner I could wish for?

I sat up and knelt on the couch. Waylon frowned. “What’s wrong?”

“Marry me.”

His eyes grew big. “Mel…”

“Marry me and give me your name. I want to be yours officially. With rings and a ceremony and us all dressed up like penguins in tuxedos. Not a big ceremony because neither of us cares about that, but with the people we love. We’ll do our own vows and light a candle for your mom, and, Waylon, I’ve never wanted anything more.” I took a shaky breath. “I know it sounds impulsive, and maybe it is, but that doesn’t mean it’s wrong. You always say I should take three extra seconds to make decisions, but for this one, I don’t need ‘em. You could ask me for three hours, three days, three years, and I would still want the same thing. Six months ago, you asked me to stay. I’m now telling you I want to stay forever. Please say yes.”

His face broke open in the most beautiful smile. “Give me one moment, Mel. I promise it’ll be worth it.”

One moment? For what?

He leaned in for a quick kiss, got off the couch, and walked into the kitchen. What the hell was he doing? He opened one of the cupboards and got something from the top shelf, the one I couldn’t reach without a step stool. It was something small, square, and dark blue, and…

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