Page 76 of Deceit

“I don’t fucking know,” he says, with a shake of a head before leaning over and cupping my jaw with his hand.

“But I won’t stop until I find a way. I can’t stand back while you marry him. I refuse. The only person you’ll be marrying in this lifetime is me, that’s a fucking promise.”

I can’t help but smile into his hand.

“You want to marry me?”

“Fuck yes I do,” he says, a smile of his own playing at his lips.

“Think we could get your brother to approve a slight substitution? You’re still a Putnam,” I tease, though I’m really not teasing all that much.

His smile turns sad as his thumb runs over my lower lip.

“I wish, baby. We’ll find a way around all of this, though. I promise.”

I nod, believing he means every single word, before he pulls me in for a soft kiss. I try to deepen it, but he pulls away before I can.

“You ready?”

I smile and nod before he opens his door and makes his way around the car, getting my door for me.

“Thank you,” I smile.

He looks over his shoulder, as if to make sure no one followed us, before he slips his arm around my shoulders and guides me towards the front door.

When we step inside, the foyer is large and pristine, though that same gothic theme carries on in here. Onyx marble floors carry throughout the house, accompanied by charcoal gray walls. Somehow, there is still warmth to the place. It shouldn’t work, but it just…does.

Ronan moves into the kitchen, pulling me along with him before stopping at the island where a variety of ingredients are sprawled out.

“I didn’t have enough time to call my cook in, but I did have some ingredients delivered. I figured I could make you dinner.”

My eyes scan the ingredients before I smile.

“Spaghetti and meatballs?”

“One of your favorites,” he confirms with a soft smirk. “And extra garlic bread, of course.”

“Of course,” I tease. “Can I help?”

His brows dip a little as he cocks his head to the side.

“Do you want to?”

I nod and he laughs before shrugging his shoulders.

“I’d love that.”

Aunt Steph and I always made dinner together, okay not always. We always had our meals delivered or meal-prepped, but sometimes we made dinner together and when we did, it was always a good time.

Step by step, Ronan and I work in perfect unison as we make dinner. When I’m stirring the sauce, he cages me in from behind, wrapping his giant frame around me as I cook. Then, when he was bending over to put the bread into the oven, I obviously had to smack his biteable ass with a towel. To which, he chased me through the house and into the living room before pinning me to the couch and covering my face with kisses. The bread burned but neither of us cared.

Now that dinner is done and our dishes are clean, Ronan turns to me, leaning against the dishwasher. His sleeves are rolled up, showcasing his corded forearms and his dark hair is pushed to the side just enough to keep it out of his face.

“What do you think, baby? Want to watch a movie?”

Before I can stop myself, I blurt out my thoughts.

“Not really.”

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