This man. He does it for me in every way. I turn and kiss him, loving that I can. That he’s mine. Gray’s fingers thread through my hair to cup the back of my head as he deepens the kiss, tasting me like it’s the first time. Heat flares over my skin, but he pulls back, his breath coming a little faster. He gives me one more soft peck. “Love you, Ivy Mac.”
“Love you, Cupcake.”
Gray takes a deep breath, his nose against my hair as if he’s taking in my scent. Then he gives himself a little shake. “Okay. Present.” He fumbles around in the basket, his shoulders inching up, and it hits me that he’s nervous. Really nervous.
Which makes me nervous. When he turns, he’s so tight the muscles along his thighs bulge against his jeans. “Ivy…”
My attention drifts to the little black box he holds. Shit. I can’t move. My heart slams against my ribs.
Gray sits back on his heels, facing me. With shaking hands, he opens the box. The ring is gorgeous, an Art Deco design of three flat, emerald-cut diamonds on a platinum band.
I stare at it, numb inside, then look back at Gray. His whole heart is in his eyes. The corner of his mouth quirks, trembling a little. I just want to hug him close, only I’m frozen.
“This was my mom’s,” he says. “The only tangible thing I have left of her. Seeing it on your finger would give me joy.”
“Gray…” I swallow hard. “What—”
He quiets me with a squeeze of my hand. “Ivy Jane Mackenzie, I want to marry you. I want you to be my family. And I’ll be yours.” He looks at me with hope and longing. “Say yes?”
Shock has punched the breath out of me. I’d feared this. Yet, his words, the look in his eyes, makes me want to hug him close. Which makes it harder to answer.
“I can’t.”
He winces but doesn’t take his eyes off me. “Why?”
He says it so reasonably, as if I’d refused another cup of cocoa. A choked laugh leaves me. “Ah. Because we’re twenty-two, for one thing.”
“Pretty sure lots of twenty-two-year-olds get married, Mac.”
Yeah, and I’m pretty sure I know why he wants to marry me. I love him for it. And I hate him for it. Grinding my teeth, I struggle to think of something to say to make him understand. “You’re the best college tight end I’ve ever seen.”
Gray cocks his head to the side. “Okay, not what I was expecting. Is there a point to this?”
“You could go number one.”
“I hope so.” His bronze brow lifts as if I’ve lost my nut. “Again, your point?”
“That’s a lot to take in. Worrying about a wife shouldn’t be part of it.”
With a curse, Gray looks off, his glare focused on the yellow uprights down the field. When his gaze returns to me, his focus is so intense, I feel it in my belly. “Were you planning to dump me, Ivy? When I’m thrust into this so-called awesome life?”
His anger vibrates through me. “No. Of course not.”
“Then why bring this up? And what about your wants and needs?”
“I am thinking about that.” I don’t want to be proposed to for the wrong reasons.
“So you don’t want me in your life come Draft Day?” he shoots back, his eyes wide and hurt.
“That’s not what I meant.”
“Then tell me what you do mean, Ivy.”
“I was a mistake,” I blurt out.
Gray blinks, his expression pinched. “A mistake? What? You think I view you as a mistake?”
“No.” I take a breath. “I was an accidental pregnancy. My parents were only dating when Mom became pregnant. She was supposed to go back to England, not stay here. They got married because of me.” The irony is a twist in my guts.
For a second, Gray just stares. Then he reaches for me and I’m cuddled tight against his chest. “Honey, no. No.”
Burrowing closer, I clutch his waist. “How can you say no when you don’t even understand what I mean?”
“Because I know you.” He leans back a little to look me in the eye. “You think we’re like them? That I’m asking you because I feel obligated? Fuck no.” His fingers trace my jaw. “We’re nothing like them. First off, we’re not dating.” His mouth twists like it’s an ugly word. “We’re together, as in I wake up every morning and think, ‘Thank fuck, Ivy wants me. How can I persuade her to keep me forever?’”
I snort and lean my head against his chest. “I do want you,” I whisper. “But that doesn’t mean we have to get married. Don’t ask me because of this pregnancy. That would be the very worst way to start a marriage. You’ll regret it, Gray. Trust me.”
Gray blows out a frustrated breath. “Did your dad ever say why he cheated?”
Caught off guard, the answer tumbles out of me. “He said he felt like it was his due. Women and fame.”
“Well, that’s not me. I’ve had that already and just…” He shakes his head. “No. I’m twenty-two and I feel like an old man with that shit. The thought of fooling around like that again exhausts me, makes me ill. I haven’t even looked at another woman since we started texting. Because I only want you. With or without a baby, I want you, Mac. Just you.”
“But you’re asking me to marry you, Gray.”
“Uh, yeah, and you keep rejecting me, damn it.” He laughs, but the vulnerability in his voice guts me.
My palm spreads over his heart. “Are you going to tell me that you’d have asked if I wasn’t pregnant?”