I gently took the large open house sign from her hands and brushed my mouth to hers. “I’d rather be here with you than anywhere else.”
Chelsea had gotten her real estate license a little over six months ago, and even as a junior agent just beginning, she was killing it, selling over three million in properties last month alone.
I tilted my head, admiring her ass in the tight pencil skirt and short kitten heels as she made her way toward the house. Her ankle rolled on one of the larger stones on the pathway and I was by her side, leaving the open house signs in a heap in the grass, just as she caught herself from falling. “You okay?” I asked, holding her elbow.
“Yeah,” she grumbled. “These stupid heels. I don’t know that I’ll ever get used to wearing them. I miss my Keds.”
“Being an adult sucks sometimes, doesn’t it?” I chuckled. I didn’t mean to laugh at her, but she was just so damn adorable.
“Hey!” she laughed and smacked my arm. “Don’t make fun of me! Get over there and put those signs up.”
“I’ll put them up in a minute,” I laughed and scooped her into my arms, carrying her over the threshold of the house as she playfully kicked her feet.
“This is more than a little unnecessary.” She rolled her eyes, but didn’t bother fighting me—a useless feat and she knew it.
I gently put her on her feet and watched as she made her way across the front of the house to where a box with a bow on it was waiting for her at the kitchen island. I followed her as silently as I could as she reached out, lifting the card on the top of the box with her name scribbled in cursive. “What’s this?” she asked.
I grinned and, with my nose brushing her hair, inhaled deeply. God, I loved that scent. It was like cotton and soap and lavender all rolled into one. It was Chelsea. “Just a little gift to say I love you.”
“But how’d you get it here—”
I stopped myself from rolling my eyes at my combative girlfriend. Always ready to debate me. “Would you just open it?” My laugh was an even mix of amusement and exacerbation.
She opened the note first—as she always did when I gave her a gift—and read aloud. “A little something for you…” She flipped the note over and looked at me, brow knitted together in the center of her face. “That’s it? Just a little something to me?”
I shrugged. “Keep digging. Maybe you’ll find more answers inside.”
She lifted the top off the box and squealed, bouncing up and down. She lifted the pair of silver sparkly Kate Spade Keds, and I watched her, memorizing every little sound of anticipation. Cataloging the way her calves bunched into two tight little balls when she lifted onto her toes and bounced in excitement. I watched as her head tilted and she picked up the second note that was below the pair of shoes, reading it out loud. “… to wear on our wedding day.”
When she spun around, I was on one knee, ring box open, diamond glinting in the morning sunlight that streamed in through the skylight. She was right—this house was perfect.
“Chelsea Griffin… I love you so much. If you marry me, I promise you a life of laughter, play, dogs, and love. Will you marry me?”
“Yes!” she cried out, not waiting for me to put the ring on her dainty finger. She threw her arms around my neck, and I launched to my feet, taking her into my arms. I kissed her, gently placing her feet back to the ground and not letting go until I felt she was steady.
“Oh, I wish I didn’t have to work!” she pouted. “We could take Cola for a walk and go get some bubble tea.” She pushed her bottom lip out.
“I think that could be arranged.” I whistled loudly and upstairs, I heard the heavy footsteps as Cola came bounding down the steps.
Chelsea’s eyes went wide as she stared at me. “You brought our dog to my open house?” The joy from moments ago was disintegrating fast.
“That’s the thing,” I said. “There actually isn’t an open house today… because I put an offer in yesterday through your boss… and it was accepted. It’s our house, baby. Or as you’ve said every day for three weeks… it’s our perfect house.”
Her jaw hung open comically low as Cola pranced happily around the empty downstairs. “This place is ours?”
I nodded and curved my index finger below her chin, closing her mouth for her. She was so goddamn adorable. “I… I think I need to sit down,” she said after a few blinks and fell into a stool that was against the kitchen island.
Oh, shit. I thought this was a romantic idea… but maybe I was off. Maybe she wanted to be a part of the home purchase. Maybe she was exaggerating when she said this was the perfect home. Maybe she—
“I have a surprise for you, too,” she said, looking up at me as I slid into the seat next to her. Her hand pressed to her belly and she bit her lip. “I was going to tell you tonight at dinner… but I think we may need to rush that wedding date a little.”
I sucked in a sharp breath. How did I miss the small bump of her abdomen; the swelling of her breasts and the way they were far more tender than usual when I sucked and nibbled on her nipples. “You’re… you’re…” it was my turn to be speechless. I could barely get the words out.
She smiled and pulled something from her purse. A bandana that said Pawsitively Best Big Sister. “I was going to have Cola wear it tonight,” she said, then gave a whistle. Cola came running over to Chelsea, and she tied it around our dog’s neck. “You’re going to be a daddy.”
I was going to be a father. My heart swelled and heat circled in my stomach as white hot tears pricked my eyes. I stood, gently lifting Chelsea in my arms and kissed her—my fiancé. The future mother of my child.
“Where are we going?”
I grinned. “Upstairs. To celebrate.” I was already so turned on, it was hard to walk. “Maybe we can make twins.”
She threw her head back, laughing. “I don’t think that’s how it works, but anything you want… Mr. Murphy.”
Oh my God, I love this girl.
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About the Author
When Katana Collins was younger and stole her mother’s Harlequins to read beneath the covers with a flashlight, she wanted to read about the tough as nails heroine. The perfectly imperfect girl with quirks and attitude and sass. And the anti-heroes who were anything but “Prince Charming.” Forget the knight on a white horse … she wanted the bad boy on a motorcycle.
So, now, she writes those romance novels she craved to see on the shelves all those years ago—the sassy heroines. The badass heroes. She penned her first romance novel back in 2012 and now, a few years later, she is a Top 100 Amazon Best-Selling author with 15 published books, in a wide range of contemporary romance genres (Paranormal, New Adult, Small town, Erotic Suspense … you name it!).
She lives in Portland, Maine, with an ever-growing brood of rescue animals: a kind of mean cat, a doofy lab, a very mellow chihuahua, and a very not mellow cairn terrier puppy ... oh yeah, there's a husband somewhere in that mix, too. She can usually be found hunched over her lapto
p in a cafe, guzzling gallons of coffee, and wearing fabulous (albeit sometimes impractical) shoes.
She loves connecting with booklovers like herself, and fellow sassy storytellers, so feel free to drop her an email, visit her on her website. She also loves connecting on Instagram, Facebook or in her reader group, Kat’s Kittens!
Her Alpha Dog: An Age Gap, Alpha Man Romance Page 5