Page 147 of The Thing About My Prince
“Excellent. That’s sorted then. Shall I make tea?” I pat her backside, then pretend to move to get out of bed.
“Hell, no.” She giggles and rolls on top of me to pin me down. “We just made a momentous life decision.”
“And in my world, all of those are celebrated with a nice cup of strong tea and a digestive biscuit.”
“I was thinking of something way less polite.”
She reaches down between us and strokes my cock, which instantly hardens.
“If you want to piss your parents off by never marrying me, I’d be fine with that.” She strokes her thumb over the head, and my pulse picks up again before it’s even recovered from the first round.
I push Lexi’s hair off her face and trace the line of her full lower lip. “I’m tired of doing things to either please them or piss them off.”
“Then what do you want to do?” She presses my hardness against her groin, sending a bolt of pleasure through me and making my hips instinctively tip up against her.
“I want to marry the fuck out of you.” I roll us over so she’s on her back and I’m on top of her. “And I want that for no other reason than it’s what I want to do.”
She looks up at me with those blue eyes that will forever own my heart and soul. “Did my prince just propose to me?”
“It’s not exactly the traditional down-on-one-knee-while-fully-dressed proposal I might have planned for some future romantic occasion.”
“You’ve spent your whole life bucking tradition—why stop now?” She plants a soft kiss on my lips. “And yes, I want to marry the fuck out of you too.”
“Christ, I love you, Lexi Lane.” And I drop my mouth to hers knowing we’re going to make love all over again now.
When I move my mouth to her neck, she hooks a knee over my hip. “Shouldn’t we be getting an early night? We have that meeting tomorrow morning to go over the series plan.”
I rest my mouth against her ear, and goose bumps spike on the side of her neck. I will never tire of knowing I have the power to do that to her. “Probably. But let’s have a quick celebration first. I can’t wait to wake up next to you tomorrow knowing it’s the start of our whole lives living and working together.”
EPILOGUE
FEBRUARY
LEXI
“Well, I can’t marry you until you’ve seen my football team play. If you don’t like it, the wedding’s off.” Oliver pulls our rental car into the parking space labeled simply “Oliver” in the staff lot of the Boston Commoners’ soccer stadium.
Cole and Dane park in the space behind us. Apparently, they’ve both become hooked on soccer since Oliver bought his share of the club, and for Saturday game days they give the weekend security guys the day off and come with him.
“Pretty sure you’re only half joking.” I unclick my seat belt.
“Don’t be silly,” Oliver says, turning off the engine. “I’m not joking at all.”
He winks and brushes his lips against my cheek.
This man is all mine. This man who can charm the birds from the trees and the stars from the sky and who turned my down-to-earth parents into people who got all tongue-tied when they met him, adored him at first sight, and couldnot be more excited to attend a royal wedding at a small village church in Scotland. We haven’t set a date yet, but it won’t be until next year—much to Oliver’s parents’ consternation.
But my mom, who is rarely out of scrubs and isn’t comfortable in anything more dressed up than black pants and a lightly patterned top, can’t wait to come back to New York to go shopping for her dress and hat with me—my treat, of course. As Dad’s suit will be.
I already have an offer from a designer to take care of my dress free of charge in return for the publicity, and Oliver’s parents will pay for everything else, meaning we have almost no wedding expenses.
“Come on,” he says. “Let’s get inside so you can meet everyone before kickoff.”
As he reaches for the door handle, his phone rings with a video call.
“Who the hell is this?” He pulls the phone from his pocket. “You are fucking kidding me.”
“Who?”
