Page 104 of Promise Me Forever

I hold onto him, my fingers sinking into the soft lapels of his tuxedo jacket. “So you do want kids?”

He clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth and tilts his head to the side.

“Drake?”

He laughs, brushing my hair back from my face. “Yes, I want kids, Amelia. A whole fucking tribe of tiny humans who are part me and part you. I mean, hopefully mostly you, but I think a little of the James gene will be tolerable.” He laughs again, and it makes his dark eyes twinkle.

“A whole tribe?” I try my best to frown and feign shock, but I can’t quite manage it because I’m just about delirious with happiness.

“As many as you want, mi rosa. But I guess we’ll start with one and see what happens.”

I snake my arms around his neck and pull his mouth close to mine again. “Have I ever told you how much I love you?”

“Yes, but I much prefer it when you show me.”

“I can do that.” I purr the words and rub myself against him, smiling when I feel how hard he is already.

He groans and jerks his head toward the house. “That lot are going to want to stay up celebrating our engagement for hours, and I don’t want to deny you or them the pleasure of that. But know that the minute I get you alone…” He growls instead of finishing his sentence.

I brush my lips over his, taunting him with the promise of a kiss before we’re interrupted by Dalton yelling for us to come inside so they can do a toast. Drake rolls his eyes dramatically.

I walk back into his childhood home in a different year as his fiancée rather than his girlfriend, with the knowledge thatthere is nothing this world could throw at us that would make us falter.

It’s me and him.

It’s us.

Forever.

Epilogue

AMELIA—CHRISTMAS EVE

“Okay, so if it’s a girl, Edith Verona?” he says, his brows knitted together as he sips his coffee.

My hand goes to my belly, the now noticeably swollen place where our baby lives. We chose to wait until the baby is born to find out the sex, but the closer it gets, the more we feel the pressure to have names picked out. “I like that,” I say quietly. “And I think they would too.”

“You don’t think it’s a bit… I don’t know. A bit maudlin?”

“No, absolutely not. They were our moms. We loved them, and this is our way of paying tribute to that love. I think they’d like it too, don’t you?”

He nods and smiles a little sadly. He’s told me all about his final conversation with his mother and the pain and guilt it’s caused him for so many years. I was able to tell him about my time as a volunteer in the hospital and how I saw so many people lose their sense of self as they neared death. The way the drugs messed with their minds and the outrageous things they could say. But I was also able to tell him, sincerely, that a few harsh words at the end could never outweigh a lifetime of love. That his mom wouldn’t want him to torture himself for a minute longer.I’m waiting for Amber to confide her part of the story in me so I can offer her a sympathetic ear that I’m not sure she’s ever had. No matter how often Drake and I pester her to come, she continues to avoid family gatherings, but I’m able to talk her into dinner once a month or so. She still maintains her bulletproof socialite armor, but Emily’s given me a few tips on how to bust through it, and I can tell they’re starting to work. If only I had a friend who could give me tips on how to heal Amber and Elijah’s marriage. But that really is for the two of them to figure out. If they can.

“Yeah, I think our moms would love it.” He squeezes my fingers. “It’ll be like a little bit of them is still with us, won’t it?”

“Exactly. I hope it is a girl. With Nathan and Mel’s two boys, we could do with some girl energy to balance out all that testosterone. The James family needs a feminine touch.”

His resulting laugh is the perfect balm for the undercurrent of sadness that often accompanies talking about our moms. “You’re not wrong. We’re all ruffians.”

I can’t argue with that, so I don’t. “We should probably get ready to leave soon. Luz said dinner will be served at six on the dot, and she’s not the kind of woman I want to get on the wrong side of.”

Drake murmurs contentedly, his nose pressed against my hair. “I already packed the car. We have a little time yet before we have to decamp to the madhouse for Christmas.”

I adore my extended family. I loved spending last Christmas with them, and I’m excited to see them all today too, but I get what he means. This is pure heaven right here. We’re sitting out on the terrace of our new home in Tribeca, sheltered beneath a heated roof that is strung with fairy lights. New York is putting on a show for us: Pure white snow glistens on the rooftops and sidewalks, and the skies are a perfect dark blue despite the plummeting temperatures.

Drake has draped a blanket around our shoulders, and we had freshly fried Mario’s donut balls for our lunch. Our very own Christmas Eve tradition.

“What if it’s a boy?” he asks. “Nathan took my dad’s and grandad’s names, and I’d hate to saddle a kid with Jerónimo. It was old-fashioned even way back when my abuelito was born.”

---