“I did those mental gymnastics during the ceremony. But I’m not giving you up.”
“Then we agree.”
A little smile creeps across his mouth. “Does that mean you’re game to have sex with your stepbrother?”
I wince. “When you say it like that, it’s so cringy.”
He laughs and wags his brows at me. “But you still want me, right?”
“Are you telling me you’re the kind of guy who would nail his stepsister?”
“Not usually, but I’ll make an exception for you. And how about we never mention that we’re related by marriage in the context of sex again?”
“Deal.” I grin. “How about you come here and kiss me?”
“Sure.” He lays his lips over mine experimentally. Gently. We freeze, share a couple of rapid heartbeats.
Then passion takes over. It’s as if my body is wired to respond to him—and him alone.
He nudges my lips apart. I suck in a breath and wrap my arms around him. Then his hands are in my hair and his tongue is teasing mine. My nipples are so hard they hurt, and the ache between my legs is ridiculous, considering how sore I am from all the sex. None of that matters. I’m still wishing we didn’t have to go downstairs for this wedding dinner my mother planned. I’m still wanting to spend the night alone with Quint.
I love him, and I have no idea how—or if—we can work everything out.
With a last drag of his tongue and a low groan, he forces himself to pull away. “Calla. Angel…”
The gravity in his tone is heavy. Something’s up. “What?”
“Maybe you think I’m crazy. Hell, maybe I am crazy. But I know myself. I know mere lust. And I know my feelings. This is completely different.” He swallows and cups my face, fusing his stare to mine. “I love you.”
I can’t help but smile and throw myself against him. “Really? I was literally thinking just seconds ago that I love you, too. I’ve never felt this way. You know that.”
“Yeah.” He nods. “Neither have I.”
I bite my lip. “What do we do?”
He shrugs. “We tell the family. Then we stop caring what they think and do what makes us happy.”
I turn his words over mentally, but again, he’s right. Ultimately, this isn’t about everyone else, just us. They’ll either accept us together or they won’t. But I have a feeling they’ll embrace us with open arms. I know my mom will be thrilled for me. “Yeah.”
I nod. “One hundred percent.”
He slides an arm around me and dips his head to kiss me again when a man behind us clears his throat.
“Sorry to disturb,” Michael assures. “But we have another wedding in less than an hour. We need to prepare.”
“Of course,” I say. “Let me grab my purse from the bride’s room and—”
“Are you all booked up tonight?” Quint asks.
My heart stops. “Are you serious?”
Quint pulls out a burgundy velvet box. “I bought this earlier today.” He lifts the lid and gets on one knee. “Marry me?”
It’s crazy and impulsive—everything I’ve scolded my mother for in the past. But this is Quint. It doesn’t matter how long I’ve known him. He’s the keeper of my heart. I’ve never been impetuous a day in my life—well, except this weekend—and I know what I want.
“Yes. Oh, my god… Yes!”
With a hearty laugh, he slips the ring on my finger. I glance down at the sparkling oval diamond haloed by a smaller cluster of the pale, glinting stones, all sitting on a simple white-gold band. It’s beautiful. I love it. Then again, it could have come as a toy surprise in a Happy Meal and I would have been thrilled because it’s from Quint, and he loves me.
He kisses me again, and we get lost in each other—at least until we see the rest of the family at the back of the chapel cheering for us and running to embrace us all with their happy hugs and hearty congratulations.
Just outside our circle, Michael smiles at Quint and me. “How does ten p.m. sound? That gives you enough time to celebrate with your parents, get yourselves a marriage license, and make it back here.”
I look at Quint. He looks at me. We both grin.
“I’m ready if you are.”
It’s crazy and it’s wonderful, and I’m not second-guessing myself one bit. “Let’s do it!”