Page 76 of Just My Fake Husband

“I want to stop pretending.”

“Pretending that we’re married?”

“Yes!” I grunt in frustration. “No. I want to be married to you for real, River.”

“Why?”

“Did you ask questions like this when you were a kid? Geez.”

Her eyes plead with me, her voice vulnerable. “Please Gabriel. Why?”

“Because I like how fiercely you love your sister. How fiercely you love everyone in your life. And I like how your hand feels in mine. Cliché? Yeah. True? Indescribably, stupidly true.”

“Stupidly?” Hovering above me, she’s no longer trapping me under her, but she’s not moving off me, either.

Thank the heavens, the moon, and the stars.

“I like the values you have and how because of them you wouldn’t take any of my BS when I wanted you to fix my problems without any accountability from me.” Now I’m somehow talking with my hands. Lying on my back and talking with my hands isn’t easy, but I have to. “You make me want to be better. And because when you do that one thing with your tongue, it drives me so crazy, I want to scream.”

“What thing?” she breathes.

A growl leaves my throat. “I can’t describe it. You put your tongue on your top lip, and—”

“Like this?” And then she does it, she darts her tongue to the tippy top of her mouth and, heaven have mercy on my soul, I might actually die right here, right now.

I grab her hips with my hands. “You’re flirting with me, River.”

She swallows and grunts in protest. “We are way past flirtation.”

Squeezing her hips, I spin her off of me, and the shock pushes out a big whooping laugh from her as we collide and rotate in the bed. Now I’m on top. “I like you. But I don’t want to be married like this.”

Her head twists away from me. “I know. You’ve said as much.” She’s protesting, like she doesn’t get what I’m trying to say.

“No, youdon’tknow. I’m sick of playing games and of making this about what everyone else around us thinks or needs. Being married to you is the single most insane thing I’ve ever done, and I don’t want it to ever stop.”

She’s breathing heavily and when her gaze darts down to my mouth, that’s all the permission I need.

I lean down and devour her lips with mine.

There’s something indescribable when you kiss someone you love. And it registers in my mind, as I’m tasting her lips and tangling my hands in her hair, that I do. I think I love her.

I have to love her, right? Thathasto be what this is.

I do sort of a pushup move as both of my hands are on the bed on either side of her head and my body stretches out.

As quickly as it began, I pull my lips away. I climb off her and over to my side of the bed, hastily pulling the messed up blanket barrier off the floor and back in place. She lies there, on her back, her mouth dropped open a tad and her eyes on the ceiling.

Our heavy breathing eventually slows and the next time I glance over, she’s smiling. It’s small, but it’s there. Nothing more is said. There doesn’t need to be.

How will I fall asleep, with my mind racing and stealing glances at her every twenty seconds? Eventually, I hear her long, slow breaths turn to a light snore. Which makes me smile.

Of course she snores. Because River is perfectly imperfect, which adds up to this: I love her. And I meant what I said.

I don’t know how she feels about what I said. And first thing in the morning, I’m going to ask her.

Chapter 27

River

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