Page 58 of Let Me Love You
Her eyes close for the briefest of seconds as she leans into my touch. Pinning me with her gaze, her gray irises are stormier than ever.
“The second one.” She hesitates. “And the first, kind of. Not that I don’t want a baby. I do. But this wasn’t the plan, ya know?”
“Technically, falling for you wasn’t the plan, either, Kate, and it was one of the best surprises I’ve ever received.” I rest my forehead against hers as she closes her eyes again, her soft, unsteady breath caressing my jaw.
“I’m scared,” she whispers.
“Why are you scared?”
“What if my medicine messes with him, and he’s born with a birth defect? What if I can’t be left alone with him? Or if I can’t give him baths because he could drown under my watch? What if I have a seizure while holding him, and he gets hurt?” Her eyes open. They’re filled with unshed tears. “I’m a ticking time bomb, Macklin.”
“Sh…” My heart fucking shatters. But I can’t take it. The pain in her voice. The weight she’s carrying. The knowledge and how much it’s been killing her.
“Tell me again, Porcupine,” I urge.
She closes her eyes.
“Tell me we’re gonna have a baby.”
Another shaky breath slips past her lips, but she opens her eyes, forcing herself to hold my gaze no matter how terrified she is. And she is terrified. She’s shaking. And I swear I can hear her racing heart.
“We’re gonna have a baby, Macklin,” she whispers.
A grin spreads wide across my face, practically splitting it in two. I slam my mouth against hers. She tastes like ginger and Kate. I thread my fingers through the hair at the back of her neck, not giving a shit if I mess up her braid. The damp strands ground me as I tilt her head back and devour her whole.
Because shit. The emotions rolling through me are like a hurricane. Chaotic and messy. But as I pull away from her and rest my forehead against hers once more, those stormy gray eyes meet mine, and I know it’s gonna be okay. I know we’re gonna be okay. And I know our baby is gonna be okay. Because she’s gonna be the best fucking mom a kid could ask for. We’re gonna have a little piece of me and Kate Winchester walking around this place.
“Will you marry me, Kate?” I rasp.
Her breath hitches. “What?”
“I wanna marry you. I wanna make more babies with you. I wanna call you mine for the rest of my life.”
“Stop,” she begs. “Don’t ask me that.”
I pull back, surprised by the pain in her voice. “What?”
“Don’t ask me when you’re feeling obligated—”
“Stop.” The word hangs in the air for a long second.
“Mack, you’ve already proposed to one girl all because she was pregnant. I’m not going to let you—”
“Wait here,” I order.
I push to my feet and jog inside, searching in the cabinet above the fridge since Kate’s short frame would never dream of looking in here. When I find what I’m looking for, I turn around and rush back to Kate outside. After taking the porch steps two at a time, I fall to one knee on the pavement beneath the stairs and peer up at the most gorgeous girl I’ve ever laid eyes on. Her lips are parted and swollen from our kiss as she stares down at me on one knee.
“What are you doing?” she whispers.
“I was always excited to be a dad,” I tell her. “Even when I found out Hazel was coming all those years ago. But I never wanted to be a husband until this moment. You’re right, Kate. My first marriage might’ve been out of obligation. But this? You and me? I wanted this before I found out you’re pregnant. Before I pictured a crib in the guest bedroom and toys sprawled out in the family room by the fireplace. I bought this ring after your graduation and debated whether to give it to you then or if I should stick with the Jeep.” Her hand covers her mouth as I smirk up at her. “We both know which one I decided on. But it wasn’t because I didn’t want to ask. It wasn’t because I didn’t know if you were my forever. It was because I didn’t want to freak out your parents when we’d only been dating for a few months.”
A light laugh slips out of her, and she rolls her eyes.
“I love you, Kate. And we both know I don’t play games.” I hold up the little blue Tiffany box and open the lid, showcasing the engagement ring I bought long before I found out we were gonna have a baby together. “Marry me.”
Her hands tremble as she takes the ring, dragging her finger along the edge of the square-cut diamond and thin, white gold band. But her expression is unreadable. Locked down. Impenetrable. Like when we first met. When she felt the need to keep her feelings close to her chest. When she was most vulnerable. Most breakable.
I set the empty teal box beside her hip on the porch and cradle both sides of her face, praying she can see my sincerity and my need to make her mine. “Marry me, Porcupine. Be my wife.Please.”