Page 118 of Protected from Malice
“Living with me,” I explained. “Being with me. Knowing what I’ve done. You say it’s okay now, but what about in six months? A year? Will you change your mind?”
She turned to me and placed her soft hand on my cheek. Then she got that thoughtful look—the one she always gets before she says something really smart or intuitive. “Rafe. You are a good man. No. Not just good. You’re amazing. You’re brave. You’re loyal. You’ll do anything to protect the people you care about. None of that will change. Not in six months. Not in a year. Not in five years. You’re a hero, Rafe. And more importantly, you’remyhero.”
A little off balance by everything she said, I grabbed hold of part of it. “Five years?”
Her blush was visible even in the darkness. “Too much?”
“No.” I hugged her to me, and in that moment, I swore to myself I’d doanythingto keep her. “It’s not too much. Not even close.”
Five years? It doesn’t seem like enough.
I won’t ask her to marry me yet. It’s too soon for that. Not when it’s only been a month since Eden’s run-in with that fucker, Wilson. Not when she’s still going to weekly counseling sessions and I end up soothing her back to sleep after a nightmare more nights than not.
But one day, I will.
And if she says yes? I’ll spend my life proving she made the right decision.
I may have even started looking at rings, just so I’m ready.
Shit. Imagine that. Eden wearing my ring. No longer just my girlfriend, but my fiancée. And then later—but hopefully, not too much later—taking me as her husband.
Herhusband.
Could I really be that lucky?
“Okay, I think I’m ready.” My head jerks up from my phone as Eden walks into the living room, immediately drawing my full attention. “What do you think?” she asks, and gives a little spin. Her skirt lifts to reveal another inch of her legs, lightly tanned and dusted with freckles from our frequent hikes.
My gaze lingers on her thighs as I reply, “You look gorgeous.”
“Rafe.” Amusement laces her voice. “Did you even look at the rest of the dress? Or my makeup? My hair?”
“Of course I did.” I get up from the couch and cross the room to meet her. I take her hands as I give her a full inspection, all the way from her bright pink toenails up to the adorable chestnut curls springing free of her bun. “You look gorgeous. Just like I said.”
“Is the dress too bright?” Her brows pinch as she looks down at the sundress she’s wearing. It’s white with large pink flowers printed all over it, and it fits her perfectly, with narrow straps that accentuate her delicate collarbone and a slight V at the neckline that shows off a hint of shimmery cleavage. “It’stechnically summer, so I thought it would work. But once I looked in the mirror?—”
“It’s perfect.” I pull Eden into my arms and kiss her, tasting vanilla and mint on her lips. She leans into me, twining her arms around my neck and kissing me harder. Her breasts press temptingly against me.
I open my mouth for her, and she dips inside, caressing my tongue with hers. I’m happy to let her take the lead; not that I don’t enjoy doing it myself, but I think it’s important to hand over control whenever she wants.
As we keep kissing, I feel her nipples drawing into tight peaks. Her breath comes faster. Her nails scratch at my neck. A low moan works its way up her throat.
And fuck, is it the sexiest sound ever.
I love Eden like this. Not that I don’t love her all the time, but hearing the evidence of her desire, her arousal, knowing that this is an Eden no one else sees. This ismyEden—passionate, unrestrained, and so damn beautiful she literally takes my breath away.
When we finally break apart, both of us are breathing hard and Eden’s cheeks are pink. A few more curls have escaped her bun, surrounding her face like a halo. Her eyes darken to a deep sapphire as she gazes up at me. “Rafe,” she breathes. “What time do we have to be there again?”
It takes a second for my brain to shift gears.
Right. The party. At Indy’s new place.
“Five,” I tell her. A quick glance at my watch tells me it’s quarter past four. “So we’ve still got plenty of time.”
“Hmm.” Her attention drifts down to the very obvious erection straining the fabric of my pants. “So we have forty-five minutes; is what you’re saying?”
“Well. It’ll take us fifteen minutes to get there. So, more like half an hour. And I thought I might get gas on the way over, so?—”
Wait. Why the fuck am I talking about gas when Eden’s looking at me like that?
