Page 115 of What Lies Within

I notice I hold her fucking hand in a death grip and loosen off.

“You realize you're asking me to act as though we're married."

I frown. Am I? I guess I am. “That a problem?”

She huffs the cutest little laugh. “No. I just… I?—”

“You what?” I roll forward to my knees, close the gap between us as I press against the mattress.

"Are you sure?" Her tone is high and pitchy. She doesn't believe this.

How I feel about her. What she means to me.

"I love you, Rae." The words come out as though posed like a question, as though I ask permission to feel such sacred devotion for her.

If I’m worthy.

Her hands shift to my face, frantic, palms pressed against the hinges of my jaw, fingers threaded through my hair. Her eyes dart left to right, searching my gaze, a gentle smile playing with the dainty corners of her perfect mouth.

Why the hell is she so hard to look at? Why can’t I focus?

Her thumb sweeps my cheek, and I realize why. Because this fucking woman brings me to tears. Good tears.

I tuck my chin down, the urge to hide my weakness automatic. Yet she grips hard, forcing me to stay looking at her.

“Don’t hide this from me.” Another sweep of her thumb. “Don’t deny me this, Digger.”

“I ain’t trying to.”

“Then tell me why the tears. Explain this to me, babe.”

There she goes again, cleaving my goddamn heart into pieces and tenderly wrapping each one before she pockets it for herself.

"I don't know," I say, genuine this time. "I guess…" I sigh, making my head ache while I try to work it out. "I guess I feel fuckin' lucky you wanna be mine."

"Why wouldn't I want to be?" She laughs, a gentle jest rather than derisive. "You're fucking amazing, Digger. You were the first to make me feel welcome here. Seen." Rae hesitates, swallows, and twitches that coy smile again. "You accept me for who I am.Ifeel lucky that you’d choose me to be yours.”

“Guess we’re as fucking fortunate as each other then, huh?” I laugh a little.

Feel reassured when she does, too. "I guess."

“So, it’s a yes?” I turn my head and kiss her palm.

She leans in and places her lips against mine, sweet, gentle,loving.“It is. Let’s pretend we’re married. You, me, and Tyke.”

“Who said anything about pretendin’?”

"It's illegal, Dig." She pulls back and bops me on the nose. "I know you're not worried about that sort of stuff, but it doesn't change the facts."

"I know that." I roll my eyes and rest back on my heels. "But I ain't pretending, Rae. It might not be official on a bit of dead tree, but it's real to me. I want to call you my wife. Will you let me do that? Will you let Tyke if he wants to?”

She smiles, but her eyes are sad as she drops her head with a sigh. "Let's just get him home first."

As though on cue, her phone chimes from its spot nestled on the covers.

She dives left, snatches the device up, and falls to her side to swipe open the message. I crawl over the end of the bed, settling myself behind her to see what that twisted-up little motherfucker has to say.

He’s here. No casualties—yet.

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