A/N: Thank yous to Team Spiderward for all you do. xx

Song inspiration for this chapter: “I Love You More,” Avery Anna

(Playlist for this story can be found on my YouTube channel, if you search for “ghostreader24”)

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight. The NHL owns anything that sounds familiar. I’m here having fun.

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Chapter 29

“A ring?” Edward asks.

“I understand that you can’t or don’t wear any jewelry, but if you did, I thought maybe you would like having the option of wearing an engagement ring when you aren’t on the ice.”

I also hope it may ease him into the idea of a wedding ring eventually, but keep that part to myself.

“You bought me an engagement ring?”

“Not exactly. This ring found me.” I smile, then explain. “In Mexico, you probably remember the shop I told you about where the tarot card lady did a reading for me?”

He nods, waiting for me to continue.

“The woman—she was sharing her interpretation of my final card. It was . . . death. I was freaking out and immediately thought it was about . . . Mom.” My voice trembles at the thought.

“Oh, shit.” Edward reaches out, rubbing my back gently.

“Yeah, but she reassured me that it didn’t mean what I was thinking. In her explanation, she used words that all pointed to you—webs, spiders, and destiny. How webs are interconnected with a balance between strength and fragility—just like life. She said the card meant that changes were coming my way, including plenty of new beginnings. After I revealed your nickname, she shared that your influence will play a key role in how I navigate my way through life’s challenges.”

His hand on my back stills and he chuckles. “No pressure for either of us.”

“Right? My engagement ring—it is such an unusual design. I was like, holy shit. It’s a web—another piece of you, and this ring she gave me could be a companion piece.”

Edward grins. “Vladdy’s aunt questioned whether or not you were the spider and I was caught in your web.”

“Are you?”

“It seems to be a reasonable conclusion.” He smirks. “I knew I wanted a one-of-a-kind ring for a one-of-a-kind woman. I love what she created for you.”

“I hope to meet her one day, and flattery will get you everywhere.”

“That’s more like it.” Edward wiggles his eyebrows suggestively.

I nod toward the box. “Back to your ring—Deedee and I were getting ready to depart, and the woman stopped us. She gave me the ring box before imparting the encouraging words that I would know when the time would be right to give it to you.” Reaching out, I link our fingers together. “I realize it isn’t traditional for a man to wear one during the engagement period—Demir could be the exception due to his Finnish background—or for a woman to propose, but I was saving it. I thought that if you didn’t propose soon, then I would, but you beat me to it.”

He grins. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yeah. I want that.” Edward nods. “Let’s do it now.”

“Wait. What? You want me to propose? I’m naked. And this is such a Valentine’s Day cliché.”

“I don’t care if it is. And yes, I want your proposal. I have your answer, but you don’t have mine.” He waves toward his dress shirt covering me. “You aren’t naked.”

“I’m close to naked, and our answers better match or we’re in trouble,” I warn with a chuckle, sit a little taller, then I glance toward Edward to find his eyes trained on me. “This is completely off the cuff since I didn’t anticipate you still wanting it, but here it goes.”

“You don’t need any disclaimers. I’m ready. Give it to me.”

“Were you this nervous?” I wonder, releasing his hand before running my hands through my hair.

“No, because it was you.” He smiles encouragingly. “I was more nervous that my mind would go blank and I would forget everything I wanted to say.”

“Like I’m experiencing right now.” I release a deep breath while attempting to center my thoughts.

“No stalling,” Edward teases.

“I’m not.” There’s a knock on the door, filling me with instant relief at a little more time to figure out what I want to say.

“That’s probably our food.” He hands me the ring box, reaches for his boxer briefs, then slides them on. “You’re not off the hook. I’ll get that, then we’ll pick up where we left off.”

“I haven’t even started.”

“This will be quick. You better be ready once I return.” Edward winks as he rounds the end of the bed.

At the sound of the heavy door unlocking and opening, I scramble, reaching for the covers to conceal more of my nakedness from any prying eyes of whoever is at the door.

“Bonsoir. Room service.” The man’s jovial voice makes it easy to hear them. “Voici le dîner que vous avez commandé, Monsieur Cullen. Beaux tatouages.”

“Super et merci.”

My eavesdropping skills take a hit when the conversation is in another language. The most I catch is “good evening” and “thanks” during their exchange, but I could listen to Edward speak French all night. And have. Which puts a smile on my face.

“Vous constaterez que nous avons inclus la commande de Madame Cullen avec la vôtre.”

Madame Cullen? I bet that’s referencing me.

Edward laughs. “C’est pas encore fait.”

My eyes narrow at whatever he finds funny, but it’s impossible to do anything other than swoon whenever Edward speaks French.

“Je vous demande pardon?”

“Rien. C’est bien. Je vais m’en occuper.”

I’m such a sucker for that seductive tone to his voice he uses. Every word sounds as if it’s a whispered kiss to a lover. The fluidity and ease in the way he speaks is intoxicating.

“Je serais ravi de mettre la table et d’ouvrir votre bouteille de—je crois que Madame Cullen a demandé du champagne sans alcool. Est-ce correct?”

Another reference to me again. And I heard champagne. That’s probably about the bottle of champagne I requested. Maybe they don’t have a non-alcoholic version available.

“Ça le lui ressemble en effet, mais j’ai gère. Ce n’est pas la première fois que j’utilise le room service.”

“Ce n’est vraiment pas un problème du tout.”

There’s a problem?

“Eh bien, Madame Cullen et moi étions au milieu de quelque chose . . .” Edward’s voice trails off.

“Ah j’ai compris. Mes excuses. Je ne voulais pas vous interrompre. Bonne chance avec . . . Madame Cullen.”

The room service attendant chuckles nervously at whatever is said.

“Elle en a définitivement besoin, pas moi.”

“Si . . . euh . . . l’un de vous a besoin d’autre chose, faites-le nous savoir. Je l’amènerai tout de suite. Passez une bonne soirée.”

“Vous aussi. Merci.”

After the door closes, Edward pushes the cart into the room, leaving it next to the dresser. He smiles. “Our dinner is here.”

I point toward the door. “And you owe me a bunch of translations, mister. Were you talking about me?”

“It was all good.”

“Mmm-hmm. Why am I thinking that you’re stretching the truth? Who is Madame Cullen?”

“Obviously, you. It was an innocent mistake. He said your food is included with mine and they found a non-alcoholic bottle of champagne at your request. He offered to set up our table, but I declined and told him that I can do it.”

“That’s it?” I eye him skeptically.

“Yes.” Edward waves toward the number of covered dishes, then his eyes return to mine, waiting for my own explanation. “Who else are we feeding?”

I grin, knowing he was probably expecting two plates at most. “I was hungry when I placed my order, and of course, it was in French. The front desk attendant made everything on the menu sound so good, even after the translation. They had a special five-course Valentine’s Day meal, but I passed on that when I wasn’t sure if I should be eating oysters or caviar. And we can’t celebrate Valentine’s Day without a little bubbly.”

“I believe you have a proposal to make before we can eat,” he reminds me. “If you could see the slice of chocolate cake waiting for you, then you would be a little more motivated to begin.”

“Does it look good? She said it included sea salt and caramel.” I’ve never met a piece of chocolate cake I didn’t like.

Edward holds up the tempting slice of heaven briefly. “You’re going to be a happy customer. Now, if only we had something to celebrate,” he taunts with another grin.

“Okay. You want my proposal. You’re going to get it,” I promise.

Edward rejoins me on the bed, settles into the spot next to me, then adds more pillows behind his shoulders.

“Ready?”

“It’s go time.” With his nod, he waits patiently for me to begin.

Looking down at his ring box still in my hands, I release another deep breath. “I’m not the kind of woman who ever planned for my wedding day with any sort of excited anticipation. But after we finished playing tennis in Mexico, we returned to the entrance of the hotel where the courtyard was set up for a wedding, that—it took my breath away. I had been drinking all-day, but it was a sobering sight—everything I didn’t know I wanted. In that moment, I knew-I knew it was something I wanted with you. I could picture it all so easily. And for the first time, I became excited at the possibilities of our wedding day.

“From there, I began thinking about what a marriage between us would look like. I considered our current struggles and our future challenges, wondering if we had what it would take to come out on the other side of each one, stronger as individuals, and more united as a couple. I’ve been on my own for so long, but since I met you, you’ve been there for me in some of the most incredible ways—ways no one else ever has.

“You flew to Seattle after my mother’s surgery and proceeded to share the words that you love me first. You were there when I quit my job quite dramatically. Not my finest moment, I’ll admit, and despite my actions, you stood behind me. You were there when we learned that I’m pregnant. Together. I didn’t have to worry for a second that you wouldn’t want this baby or that it wouldn’t be loved by you because I knew how excited you would be once it happened for us.

“When we began dating, the level of comfort you shared by welcoming me into your home, your family, and your life without hesitation, was more than I could have ever hoped for. It’s such a reflection of who I’ve learned you are as a person. After our trip to Mexico, I knew letting go of my hesitation about moving in with you was the right move for us to continue building a stronger bond together.

“Relationships are never easy, as we both know. My parents love you, especially my father, and he didn’t want to at first, but that was probably more the idea of you than anything else. I believe he could be one of your biggest fans now. Like me. I’ll never forget the kindness you always show them both, and I hope that you know it will always be my intention to reciprocate that for you.”

Edward smiles, urging me closer for a brief kiss of reassurance. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“It’s okay.” I blink away the tears blurring my vision at the thought of our struggles with Carlisle before I continue. “Your love touches me daily in the big decisions, but especially, the little ones. From my morning travel mug to my endless supply of chocolates. I’m grateful for every step we take, moving forward in making your house into our home. What I’m trying to say is that I couldn’t have asked for a more perfect life partner or husband better suited for me than you. I love you more every day.”

Fighting through the tears, my throat tightens before I move to sitting on my knees, turn the open ring box in my hands toward him, and whisper, “Edward. Will you marry me?”

He doesn’t say a word, watching me closely before his smile tugs at the corners of his lips.

“Say something,” I urge, blinking away the tears threatening to fall.

“Yes.”

At his blinding smile, he opens his arms, and it’s the only invitation I need, melting into his warm embrace.

Edward kisses me again. “I can’t wait to be your husband, and I’m going to wear the fuck out of that ring.”

Removing it from the box, I slide the sterling silver spider-webbed band onto his finger, then smile through my tears. “I can’t believe it fits.”

“It was meant to be. Tarot card lady knew. I did too.” After another kiss, he nods. “I plan on getting a ring tat after we get married. I was considering something like your initials, but I could turn the web design of this one into a tat.”

“Really?”

“Yes. I’ll wear it as much as possible, then everyone will know I’m taken—especially, if your goal is to mark me,” he teases.

“Not my original intention, but I like the idea of you wearing something to share our commitment to each other. I don’t want you ever to believe that our relationship is one-sided in any aspect. That’s just not me. I’m fully in this with you.”

“I love you.” He grins. “We need a photo.”

“I love you too, and just one?”

“You know me better than that.”

As Edward takes more photos of us wrapped around one another and of our hands with our engagement rings, my stomach growls loudly.

“Sorry.”

“I’m hungry too.” He nods. “We need to eat. Let’s find out what you ordered.”

I crawl from his lap and watch as Edward lifts the sides of the room service cart to create a larger round table for two.

“Do you want to sit on the bed to eat?” Edward asks.

“Is that okay?”

“Sure. I’ll use the desk chair.”

I move to the edge of the bed, and he adjusts the cart closer before revealing what’s under each of the silver domes of stacked plates.

“We have . . . a salad?”

“That’s the healthy part of my meal. I thought that would make you happy.” I smile. “We can split it. There’s endive, pear, blue cheese, and caramelized pecans.”

He unveils another plate. “A burger with French fries?”

“Don’t judge me. I’m kind of on vacation, kind of on a business trip.”

“Not a word. It will probably be the best burger of your life,” Edward concludes.

“I’m hoping for a transformative experience,” I admit cheekily.

“If you haven’t been transformed by now, then I’m not trying hard enough.” He winks, lifting another dome. “Poutine?”

I shrug. “I’ve never had it. The lady at the front desk said it wasn’t on their menu, but she would put in the special request, and they would create one for me.”

“That’s a lot of fries.”

“The ones with my burger are my backup fries in case I don’t like the poutine,” I reveal. “You never know about gravy. There’s no going back once it’s on there.”

“Okay. And finally, my salmon and pasta.” As Edward makes space for all of the plates on the table, he asks, “So, if I’m the vacation part of your trip, what is the business part?”

“Roy. I shouldn’t turn him down or not find a way to accommodate him whenever possible. Do you realize how much he could help our business grow? His network of contacts is incredibly valuable. Not to mention the possibility of becoming your team dentist is out there on the horizon. I have to wait for the current contract to expire to be considered, but exposure is what we need right now.” I sneak a French fry, while Edward opens our bottle of bubbly.

After swallowing my bite, I continue. “I’ve submitted all the paperwork for becoming an arena sponsor, then our new logo will be included on the rink boards. Rose claims that it’s a waiting game and we need to be patient. We can’t just call Alice to bypass everyone. But I played by the rules with Sam and look where that got me. So, I’m going to lean into my relationship with Roy a little too.”

He moves his chair across from me, then sits while filling our glasses. “Why would you contact Alice? She only handles our charity events.”

Oh, shit.

That’s right.

The players don’t know Alice is the actual team owner.

I need to amend my slipup when they aren’t ready to announce her true role in their family’s companies.

“Well, she’s our main contact. Rose knows her better than either of us knows Royce or Roy. I already reached out to her for help with my mom and with expediting the renovations for the practice, using Jasper’s construction company. I don’t want to lean on Alice too much and hope to continue making in-roads with Roy.”

Edward accepts my answer easily, then points toward his glass. “How about a toast?”

Distracted for a moment by the way his ring looks on his long, slender finger, I smile at my marking of him, as he phrased it. Lifting my glass, I nod. “Okay.”

He holds up his glass. “To the first of a lifetime of Valentine’s Days spent with my valentine. I love you.”

“I love you too. Happy Valentine’s Day.”

We clink our glasses together, then take a sip.

“What do you think? Good?” Edward asks.

“Not the real thing, but it’s an acceptable alternative.”

“Okay. Let’s eat. You said you checked into your hotel room earlier. Are you staying at this one?”

“Um, no. We aren’t staying here, but I guess tonight I could if it wouldn’t hinder your prep for your game. I don’t want to get you in trouble.”

“We crossed that line a couple of hours ago. I’ll pay the fine.” He grins. “Which hotel?”

“We have rooms at the . . . Ritz Carlton,” I reveal, while cutting my burger in half. “Roy said it’s the only place he stays.”

“The Ritz?”

“Yeah. Don’t read too much into it. I think he’s trying to impress Victoria with our rooms. They’re a little out of control. We have a two-bedroom suite. You would think we’re visiting royalty with the extravagance.” I chuckle.

“He’s interested in Victoria?”

“That was part of the favor brokering I mentioned earlier. Deedee called me asking if I would reach out to Roy about making the trip to surprise everyone,” I explain, then grab another French fry.

“Because you . . .”

“Have his phone number. So, I called him, but he wanted a favor—for Victoria to come with us, even though she wasn’t included originally. Between patients, I slipped into her office for a closed-door meeting. I extended her an invitation under the pretense of a girls’ trip, but when she found out Angela would be with us, she turned me down, until I shared that Senior would be going too.”

After finishing his mouthful, Edward asks, “Angela’s here?”

“Yeah, I mentioned her earlier as part of our group.”

“Oh, shit. I must have missed that since I was focused on you.”

“What’s wrong with her being here?” I wonder, then take a large bite of my burger. “Mmmm.”

“She’s been ghosting Ben.” Edward tries the salad sitting between our plates. “He told me the next time he sees her that he’s ending it.”

“Wow, on Valentine’s Day.” I shake my head. “That can’t be good for either of them.”

“This is delicious. I didn’t realize how hungry I was too. It’s hitting the spot.” Edward sips from his glass, watching as I fill a fork with the poutine, trying to get every component, then he continues eating. “Tell me what you think.”

As I finish my bite, I bounce my head back and forth from shoulder to shoulder. “It’s different. Jess said to think of it as mashed potatoes and gravy, but it isn’t like that at all. I like the melty cheese globs. They’re a little weird with the gravy. Maybe I’m not a gravy person. I’ve never had anything like this before.”

Edward nods. “Well, as for Ben and Angela, he needs a clean break regardless of when that happens, but you said Victoria is here? I wonder if James knows.”

I shrug. “I have no idea about James. Why would he care if she’s here or not?”

“He’s interested in her. Or he was at casino night. I tried to steer her away from him, because I didn’t want James screwing up anything for either of you, and encouraged her to look elsewhere,” Edward reveals.

“I remember you mentioned that night your concerns about her being around Roy, but I still don’t see a problem there. Once I told her we were using Roy’s jet and that he was tagging along with us, I could see her softening on the idea of the trip. Roy wanted to invite Victoria for dinner, and I told him it was a bad idea on Valentine’s Day, but he didn’t care. So, I floated his dinner invitation to her anyway.” I lift my burger, ready for another bite.

“After that, Victoria changed her mind about coming along on the condition that she didn’t have to share a room with Angela. Which I suppose is a little odd, but not necessarily whenever women are together—not everyone gets along for whatever reason. Regardless, I didn’t question it.”

Once I finish my mouthful, I continue. “As I worked through the logistics of making the trip happen, Victoria confided in me that she left casino night with Roy and went to his home. Can you imagine? She said it was all innocent—he barely held her hand before dropping her off at work the next morning.”

Edward looks up from his plate, pausing his forkful of pasta in mid-air. “Be careful. If they’re getting involved, that could be a gray area for your practice.”

“He’s my patient. Not hers.”

“Still. I don’t want to see either of you hurt. Someone like Roy is used to getting what he wants. You just said that she didn’t want to come on the trip, and he wanted her here. It should surprise no one that she’s here and you’re advocating on his behalf. And I seriously doubt they’re having a business dinner on Valentine’s Day.”

I consider his words as we continue eating, until I admit, “Okay. I guess I messed up then. I’m blurring the lines.”

Edward lifts his cloth napkin from his lap, dabs his lips, then smiles. “Take it from someone who knows how convincing you can be when you want something.”

“They may not even be having dinner,” I hedge. “But I’ll be careful. I’m convincing, huh?”

“Like you wouldn’t believe. I wish I had an ounce of your persuasiveness because we would have matching tattoos by now.”

While he continues with his meal and finishes the rest of the salad, I make room on the table for shifting the small plate with my chocolate cake directly in front of me.

“You want us to get matching tattoos?”

He nods. “Yes.”

After removing the plastic wrap, I ask, “What would we get?”

“Something small for your first one, but we could match.”

“You know a place?” I take my first bite and moan. “This is pure heaven.”

He grins, then repeats my words from earlier. “I know a guy.”

“Here?” I continue with my regular French fries, loving their salty complement to my sweet.

“Here in Montréal,” Edward confirms. “I can message him. Are you sure this is something you want to do?”

After another bite of cake, my eyes pass over his handsome face, knowing he’s eager for us to take this step together. Tattoos are something we’ve discussed in the past, and for as persuasive as he claims I am, I can’t resist a part of me wanting to please him.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but let’s do it.” I nod, then take a drink from my glass. “Is it possible tonight?”

“There’s one way to find out.” Edward taps out a message on his phone as we both continue eating. His phone vibrates with a response almost immediately. He looks up from his phone and grins. “Good news. We have an appointment with my guy. He can meet with us at nine-thirty, which gives us about an hour. We only need to figure out what we’re getting.”

“Wow. We’re really doing this. Can we make a decision in that amount of time?”

“I believe so, but at any point, if you want to change your mind, then we’re out,” Edward reassures.

“I’m not going to change my mind.”

“Oh, Doc. I fucking love you.”

He stands, moves around the table, and cups the back of my head gingerly, kissing my lips. Once Edward pulls away, he moves his chair next to the bed, sets his phone between us, then moves his plate closer to continue eating. “We should do a search.”

“Okay. I liked that phrase you wrote on me in French the night before the Winter Classic,” I suggest. “Al took a photo of it. It’s still in the photos on my phone, but that’s probably too much for me at this point.”

“Quotes or phrases are out, but we could do something simple, like our initials or a date.”

“My due date?” I wonder.

He shakes his head. “What if Pumpkin misses it?”

“We could do pumpkins or jack o’lanterns.”

“That seems too large for you. And where are you thinking about putting it?”

“Out of view, but not yours.” I smile. “My hip? Somewhere on my chest or back?”

“Doc. You’re going to make us miss our appointment with that talk. Keep eating. You need a break and fuel,” he says as if he needs reminding too.

I giggle, then finish another bite from my burger before downing what’s left in my glass. “Where would you put yours?”

“I don’t know. I can’t stop thinking about the placement of yours.” Edward chuckles, then scrolls on his phone, looking for more possibilities. “Let’s figure this out. There are king and queen ones, but that really isn’t us. Yin and yang could be a good one.”

“You’re the yin?”

“Without a doubt. We could do a sun and waves for our time in Mexico.”

“I don’t know.”

He nods. “We’ll keep looking. It’s the kind of thing that if you don’t love it, you shouldn’t do it . . . because you’ll regret it later. I want you to be certain.”

“Okay.”

“There is a small lock and key tat.” Edward refills our glasses before taking another sip. “That could work.”

“I’m the key?”

“Absolutely. The key to everything.” When I’m not sold immediately, he moves onto the next option. “This one is three dots. They stand for today, tomorrow, and forever. That would be easy for you.”

I shrug. “While I like the meaning, I want something a little more substantial than that.”

“Oh! I’ve got it. Look at these hearts. They’re small and would be made from our fingerprints. It says that fingerprints are unique to an individual, which is similar to how love is. We all see it differently and show it in different ways. Essentially, we would be inking parts of our bodies on one another. I like the way that sounds, and it isn’t super obvious if someone else were to see it.”

“Aww. That’s sweet and romantic. It would commemorate our first Valentine’s Day too. I like it.”

“But do you love it?”

“I think I do.” I smile, but wonder one thing that’s been nagging me a little since he suggested getting tattoos together. “Have you . . . ever done this before?”

“Matching tattoos?” Edward asks, then finishes our remaining salad.

“Yeah.”

“Only with my teammates, like we did in Mexico when we all inked stars. It will be firsts for both of us.” He glances at me with that reveal. “And for the record, I’ve been sporting a semi ever since you said, let’s do it. Once you’re in the chair, I’m probably gonna need a moment so I don’t embarrass myself. You’re okay with me taking photos?”

“Of course.”

Edward grins. “Will you marry me?”

“I already said yes.”

“Thank goodness for that. If I’m dreaming, please don’t anyone wake me up,” he demands with a chuckle.

“Do you think we will have time to stop by my hotel room and I can change my clothes? My dress probably isn’t appropriate or my shoes. And what little underwear I had is now missing.” Looking at him accusingly, I wait for his answer.

“You don’t need any underwear, and we’re keeping your heels here. For later. But we can stop by and you can change out of your dress.”

“Okay. What are you going to wear?”

He shrugs. “I’ll throw on jeans and a hoodie.”

“I can do the same. I brought some casual clothes with me. Do you think my being pregnant will be a problem? I’m not very far along, but . . . ” I’m curious if I’ve found a snag in our plans.

“I don’t know.” Edward’s excitement fades slightly. “The biggest concern with any tattoo is infection. You’ll need to keep it clean while it heals. My buddy, Bradley—his shop is ridiculously clean, but that’s what you want. He’s licensed and careful about everything, but I’ll ask if that’s a dealbreaker. When I’ve been there, he uses an autoclave to sterilize all equipment. Everything else—gloves, bandages, needles, dyes—is new and unopened with each client.”

After another bite of cake, I watch as Edward types out our question while we wait for a reply that comes moments later.

“He says it’s not a dealbreaker, but you need to consider placement and not choose any areas where your skin will stretch, as it will distort your tattoo.”

“So, it’s probably a no on my hip in that case,” I conclude.

“Probably so.” Edward’s phone vibrates with another incoming message. “Bradley also says to consider choosing an area not exposed to sunlight regularly since it will quickly fade any colors you choose. He can make recommendations once he sees you.”

Considering his suggestions, I look over at my handsome fiancé and my excitement builds once again at doing something spontaneous, connecting us in another way. A way that I know means a lot to him.

“Okay, we’re still doing this, and I’m excited—a little nervous about the pain, but still excited.”

His smile is soon mirroring mine. “Me too.”

“Want a bite of cake before it’s gone?” I tease, holding out my fork with another waiting bite. “Or am I the only sweet you’re savoring this evening?”

“You’re a mind reader now?” He grins when his hand finds my bare leg under the table, caressing it lovingly.

After finishing the mouthful, I lick the chocolate and caramel from the fork and agree, “Maybe I am.”

His eyes darken and his voice is husky as he speaks. “Then what else am I thinking?”

After setting my fork on the plate, I lick the chocolate from my lips. “That this perfect evening is about to get even better and that you should probably fuck me again be—”

Before I can finish my thought, he’s out of his chair and I’m flat on my back with him pressed between my legs as our tongues collide over and over. Plunging my fingers into his hair, I tug lightly, prompting a rumble to escape from his chest. With every needy roll of his hips, his mouth devours mine.

It seems as if we’re finished with dinner.

My fiancé wants dessert.

And as he shoves his underwear lower, freeing his ready cock, I wrap my legs around him, knowing there’s zero doubt we’re going to be late.