Page 15 of Age Gap Wolf's Second Chance Mate

I get to the door still doing a miserable job of letting things go. “I mean, I certainly don’t give a flying fuck how old anyone is!” I spit out as I open the door.

“Well, doesn’t that just make things so easy for you?”

It’s Jonah. He’s standing there on the porch as I swing the door open and, well, justify myself to myself, out loud. Being caught out like that does not help my mood. His words don’t help it much either. “You know, Jonah, I’m trying to just work this out, okay?”

“Oh no, you’ve already figured it all out for yourself,” he says, “and you can’t fucking handle anyone else still needing to figure it out.” He throws up his hands. “Well, running away like a little child doesn’t do much to support your theory that our age gap doesn’t matter.”

I’m just caught so off guard by his anger, I lash out at him. “I think, Jonah, that you use our age gap as a stupid excuse to set me aside. Everything about me you can just discount, my dreams, ambitions, emotions, desires, everything can be deposited in this little box you’ve made for me.”

He’s taken aback, I can tell. Naturally, that gives me fuel for my fire. “Like when I’m pissed you say I’m running away like a little child instead of an adult removing herself from a toxic moment.”

He breathes in to say something so I hurry to keep going. “It’s easier to see me as just some naive little girl who couldn’t possibly know what she wants or really, what’s good for her. That way, you can discount my thoughts and my ideas. You can act like a father to guide me instead of a boyfriend to love me. In charge, you get. In love terrifies you.”

He starts to talk but he makes a kind of monosyllabic something or other before I’ve waved any response away from him. “But you know what, I’m tired of it. You want to think I’m mad right now because I’m young and don’t know any better than to be mad about what I don’t understand.”

I say bitterly, “And you’re such an asshole because you’re sure there’s so fucking much that I don’t understand. I could somehow graduate magna cum laude at damned competitive business skill and be trusted to run a fourth-generation business instead of my brother but I’m just a child. I don’t have real thoughts.”

I feel the tears forming and I don’t want him to see me cry. “So, just leave Jonah.”

He stands there. “Mara, I don’t . . .”

I sigh. “That’s right, Jonah, you don’t. You don’t look past a silly thing like our age difference because you only see how things reflect on you. So, if I’m sad or glad or mad, it’s just being young. I’m never me. I’m never Mara in your eyes. You can’t get past you, Jonah. You get to have real feelings. Not me. You’re just too damn selfish to realize our relationship involves me, too.”

I want to hit him, push him, hug him, cry with him. I can’t do any of those things. I can’t even scream at him. I can barely gather the energy to say what I know I need to say. “Jonah, just get off my porch until you can act like a fucking adult.”

“Fine!”

My heart stops as I hear his response. I can’t even look at him anymore.

But his hand darts into my view and I slowly understand what I’m staring at. It’s an open box and it’s holding the most beautiful ring I’ve ever seen. My eyes shoot up to his face.

“Satisfied?” He asks.“How about before you tear me a new one you give me a chance to fucking talk?”

“Oh, do young people just force their thoughts out? Is that it? Is it just Mara being childish?”

“Damn it all to hell, Mara, are you going to fucking marry me or are you going to fucking scream at me?” He yells this, and then we both just stare at each other

I start laughing first but then we both can’t stop. “Yes, yes,” I answer, wheezing as tears fill my eyes. Am I crying? Am I laughing? Does it fucking matter?

“Fuck, Jonah.” I’m in his arms now, and we’re clinging to each other like the lightest breeze will rip us away from this moment. “This has got to be the worst proposal story ever. We can’t tell anyone this story. We especially can’t tell our kids. You need to promise you’ll never tell them this is how it happened.”

He stops laughing, "Kids?”

I step back, shaking my head. “Idiot, how do you manage to focus on just one word out of twenty? Yes! Kids, or, uh, pups? Cubs? I don’t know what the hell you’re going to call them. Get off the fucking porch, get your clothes off, and let’s get started on making them.”

“How many do you want?”

I take his face in my hands and kiss him. “It doesn’t matter. Now, shut up and come to bed.”

He smiles and nods. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Whoa, I want you to think age is of no importance, but Ma’am? Really?”

He pulls me inside and shuts the door. “I am at your bidding my sweet princess. Is that better?”

“A little. Now take me to my chambers and ravish me.”

He sweeps me up into his arms. “You know, I think I like being domesticated.”

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