He dropped to one knee. Watching her eyes go wide, he held up the gallon of organic whole milk in one hand and, pulling the box from his pocket with the other, flipped open the lid, revealing the two rings nestled together within black velvet. One the diamond-encrusted wedding band she’d returned to him twice already but he couldn’t accept she didn’t want. The other a solitaire as weighty as the promise it conveyed. “I will love this baby like it’s my own. It will never know a single minute of doubt because I swear to love it as much as I love you.”
Megan’s breath sucked in at his confession. His revelation. His freedom.
“You don’t remember my first proposal, but I’m hoping this one will stick. Megan, I love you. And I’m asking you to let me give you a lifetime of what you’ve shown me matters most. Laughter, love, late-night conversations. I’m asking you to be my wife in the most conventional, traditional and time-tested meaning of the word, for as long as we both shall live.”
Heart slamming, breath held, he waited as his world hung in the balance.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
THIS COULDN’T BE HAPPENING. It wasn’t real. It wasn’t possible.
This was a nervous breakdown in action. It had to be. Something she should have seen coming...except the gallon of milk was the sort of surreal her brain typically didn’t conjure.
Which meant... “Oh, my God.”
Her breath left on a quiet sob and she reached for him, pulling at his shirt until he stood. Taking the milk from him, she set it on the secretary table with a small shake of her head.
“I’m not pregnant, Connor.”
He stared into her eyes a long moment, the muscles of his throat working as though he was trying to make words that wouldn’t come. And then he pulled her into his arms, his big body wrapping around her as ragged breath sounded against the top of her head.
Relief, powerful enough to overwhelm a man as strong as Connor, washed over her. It was humbling to witness.
“Your email was still open on the kitchen laptop,” he said, his words glass-and-gravel rough. “I saw the message about a requested donor being ready for pickup.”
Megan flattened her hand against his chest, the only reassurance she could offer within the decadent confines of Connor’s hold. “That message was in response to an inquiry I’d made months ago. Before we met. I wasn’t ready to move forward with those plans.”
They were still married, for one. And the way she felt about Connor... She couldn’t begin something so important with her heart still torn to shreds. She’d assumed her plans would be on hold for at least another year or two.
Releasing his python grip on her, Connor gently cupped her jaw as he tipped her face to his.
“I don’t care.” The steady calm of his words in direct contrast to the burning intensity in his eyes.
Her brow lifted in question.
“I want you anyway. Even if I don’t get a baby in the bargain.”
A soft laugh pushed past her lips. How did he do it? Make her laugh when her world was up in the air?
“You want me anyway?”
A nod. “I love you, Megan. I didn’t think it was something I had in me, but that was because I’d never experienced it before I met you.”
He loved her.
Connor searched her eyes, one corner of his mouth curling into a wolfish smile as the hands at her jaw slipped into her hair. Gently he urged her head back and lowered his mouth for a soft, sinking kiss that tasted like every promise she’d never allowed herself to dream of asking for. Then, fitting his lips more firmly over hers, he slid his tongue past her teeth to stroke against her tongue, once, twice, again and again, until her hands were locked in the fabric of his shirt and she was clinging to him with everything she had.
Never breaking the kiss, his hands began a slow roam over the contours of her body, following the curve of her waist and the lines of her arms. Threading through her fingers and making the world around her spin, until she was grounded by the unyielding resistance of the door to her apartment at her back. The seductive press of her wrists against the solid panels, and the mind-jumbling weight of Connor’s body in full delicious contact with her own.