Page 30 of Forging Caine

“Yeah…” She sniffled and pulled back to look at me, tears collecting against her lids. “I’ve noticed that.”

I brushed away some loose strands of her hair, which had fallen across her face, tucking them behind her ear. “You have no idea how happy you’ve made me.”

Her jaw flexed and she began worrying her lip, gaze roaming over my face. What was it now? Doubts? Worries? Memories overcoming her? Hopefully the silence was dreams of our future, plans for our wedding.

“And I’m serious, we don’t need to set a—”

“Have I ever told you how handsome you are?” She brushed her hand across my cheek, then under my jaw.

“Will you still say that when I’m old and wrinkled?”

Her hand continued moving, into my hair, to the back of my neck, down my shoulder and against my heart. She nudged me backward, toward one of the patio sofas, until I sat. “Where did your father’s gray start?”

Strange turn of conversation. “At his sideburns.”

She nodded and lifted her skirt enough that she could kneel on the couch, straddling me. Both of her hands sank into my hair at the sides, her nails scratching lightly over my sideburns. “I want to watch your hair turn gray.”

My hands ran across her bare knees, up her thighs under her skirt, until they found her strong ass and the surprisingly un-Samantha lacy underwear she’d chosen. “I want to watch your laugh lines grow.”

One of her fingers traced my hairline and paused at my right temple. “You’ve let your hair grow a little longer, so there’s more curl than in August. And you have a new scar by your chin. Here.” She ran her touch over the spot.

“Minor incident at the Casa just after our trip to Boston.”

She nodded, continuing to explore my face. “When we first met, you smirked all the time, but now you smile more.”

“You used to scowl all the time.”

She swatted my chest, mock-scowling at me. As her hand trailed down my right arm, she grew even more serious. “And you have a scar here.” She gripped my bicep, and a single tear escaped her eye. “From where you risked your life to save mine.”

‘I was saving myself,’ was the first thing that came into my brain to make her laugh. But I held it inside. That was hardly what the moment called for.

“I want to keep watching all these changes.” She swiped a hand across her eyes. “I don’t want to lose it because of a stupid job.”

So much for the distraction. She was still thinking of her father’s letter.

She sniffled and undid a button on my shirt, sliding her hand across the skin of my chest. “That was the secret in your bedside table?”

The knot twisting in my stomach re-tied itself. It had been fun and teasing when I tipped her off that it was there, and yet in this moment, I didn’t want to confess I’d bought it so early in our relationship.

Why the doubts right now?She said yes. She looked happy.

“Sì, it was.” I pushed my fingers under the edge of her panties. “That was my last secret.”

“You really want to marry me.” Her words came out in a whisper, like she was marveling over this, not asking for confirmation.

I shrugged one shoulder. “Well, I asked. And I gave you a ring.”

Part of me hoped that an engagement would be enough that the staring and blinking would come to an end, but sadly, that hope fled as she stared down at me. Even after all her words about watching me age.

“Do you like the ring? It’s not too big, is it?”

“Of course it’s too big. But it wouldn’t be your ring if it was smaller.”

Time for the humor again. “I could return it for one that’s bigger and make it even more me?”

Instead of responding with words, she lowered her mouth to mine and raked her fingers into my hair. Her chest swelled against me, a low moan emanating from deep inside her.

My hands dug into her hips as she ground against me. I moved her panties aside to find her sex. Her heat. Her wet need for me.

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