13. Haven

13

HAVEN

I wait for him to say, "Ha! Just kidding" or something to that effect. When he sits next to me, looking at me with those big brown eyes of his, almost pleadingly, I shake my head. "You're funny, King."

There's an almost hopeful glint in his eyes. "I'm not joking, peaches. I want you to be my wife."

I jump up from my seat and back away, putting some much-needed distance between us. "Stop that. Stop it right now, King. This isn't funny."

He slowly gets up and follows me. "I'm not trying to be funny. I'm serious."

I shake my head, waving my hands in front of me. "Well, it's crazy talk, and I don't want to hear it. "

He comes toward me, and I swear I can't think straight when he's this close. He pulls papers out of his pocket and unfolds them. "Hear me out."

My eyes about pop out of my head. "You had papers drawn up? Are you missing the part where I said we could be friends? I'm not marrying you."

It's almost like the gold flecks of his eyes are sparkling at me. Why does he have to be so handsome? This isn't fair. "You know we can't just be friends. You have to feel this between us, peaches."

I start to stutter. "But… uh… we can't…."

"We can."

I'm still shaking my head, overwhelmed and confused. "But why? Why would we? Why would you want to?"

"Will you sit down?" he asks, pointing at the couch.

I walk over and sit down on the chair, effectively making it so he can't sit next to me, but that doesn't stop him from trying. He sits down in front of me on the coffee table, and the wood groans under his weight.

He has the papers still clenched in his hands. "This is not a joke. I'm not messing with you. I want you to be my wife. "

I can barely form a sentence I'm so shocked. "Why?"

He repeats the question. "Why do I want you to be my wife?"

I nod my head, and he leans forward. "Because I'm forty years old. I want to settle down. Hell, you've seen what it's been like since I went to your modeling show."

I blink in confusion. "What do you mean? What's happened?"

He tilts his head. "You don't know?"

"No, I don't. I try to stay off social media." I leave out the part where I spent the whole afternoon searching for information about him when I found out who he was. Since then, I've made a point to stay off the Internet because it was driving me crazy seeing all the pictures of him with that other woman.

He pulls out his phone, scrolls, and then holds it out in front of me. I take the device from him and start reading. Jasper's most eligible bachelor is on the prowl. There are articles and pictures about who he was at the show to see. I look up from the phone. "Who were you there to see?"

"Huh?"

"Who were you at the fashion show to see? "

"You, Haven. I was there to see you."

"Oh!" I exclaim.

He puts the paper on the table next to him and then holds his hands out in front of him with his elbows resting on his knees. His hands are palms up, and I know what he wants. He wants me to put my hands in his, but I'm not there yet. "So you want to marry me to avoid gossip?"

"Fuck, no, I'm doing this all wrong. I want to settle down… I want a family. You said you wanted kids—"

Damn. I'm pretty sure my lady parts just exploded. I can't sit across from this hunk of a man and listen to him tell me he wants to have my babies. I'm a strong woman, I know I am, but I'm weak when it comes to resisting King. "I do want kids, but this was not the way I thought it would happen. Contracts and—"

He grabs the papers and holds them up. "If you don't want a contract, I can rip it up. But I was trying to protect you too."

He shoves his hand through his hair and looks at me wildly. I'm not sure what is going on in his head, but it's obvious that he's thought about it, and he's determined to make it happen.

"Let's talk about this. You want a kid? Why get married? This is the twenty-first century, after all. If we wanted to have a child… we could just have a child." Where did this even come from? I'm not having a kid with him. Why am I humoring him by even talking about it?

"I would want the baby to have my name."

I scrunch up my nose. "You know you can do that without a wedding, right?"

"That's the deal, Haven. Marriage. Kids. The contract has it all in there. If you decided to end the marriage, I would still take care of you and the kids."

Speechless, I stare at the papers in his hands. He tries to give them to me, but I'm not taking them. "Why would you do this?"

"I like you. I trust you. I want a child. You said you want one too."

I laugh out loud. He makes it sound so simple, and it's crazy. "I can't marry you to have a child, King. Yes, I want a baby, but I want more than that. I want a real marriage. I want a man that loves me and will be faithful."

"I will be faithful," he exclaims, but I can't help but notice that there's no professing his love for me or anything.

"I'm sorry. I can't. "

His jaw tightens. "I'm not taking no for an answer, peaches."

And I believe him when he says it. "Fine. I'll think about it."

He doesn't like that answer either, but at least he doesn't insist on a yes right now. With his hands palm up in front of me, he asks, "Do you think you could ever be comfortable with me?"

I should tell him no. I could end this all right now if I told him I felt nothing when I look at him and that I don't want his hands on me. But it would be a lie.

"Honestly?" I ask him.

He looks shamed but nods. "Yeah, I know I don't deserve it, but yeah, I want the truth."

I let out a long breath. "You make me feel alive, King. More alive than I've ever felt in my life… and that freaks me out."

He clears his throat. "Me too, peaches."

I can see the sincerity in his eyes, and I gently put my hands in his.

He holds on to them, and his voice is thick with emotion. "I want to try something."

I bite my lip as my stomach churns with nervousness. He's already shocked me with the fake marriage request… I can't imagine what's going to come out of his mouth next. "What?"

"Can I hug you?"

My voice drops to a whisper. "Hug me?"

"Hug you," he repeats.

Shakily, I nod my head, but secretly, I'm waiting for the panic to set in.

He stands up and pulls me up with him. We're standing chest to chest, and I can feel him move with every breath he takes. All my senses are alert, and I have to remind myself to breathe.

"Give me a safeword."

Heat creeps up my neck and face. "A safeword?"

"Yeah. If you get overwhelmed, then just say it and I'll stop. I'll let you go."

"Pickles," I blurt out. "I don't like pickles."

He smiles and brushes a strand of hair off my face and pushes it behind my ear. "Okay, one more thing I can add to the list of things I know about you. You don't like pickles, so just say pickles if you want me to let you go."

Okay , I mouth because no sound comes out.

Very slowly, he lets go of one hand and brings it up my arm, over my shoulder and to my back. He's searching my eyes the whole time, and I'm sure he's afraid I'm going to have another panic attack. I give him a slight nod, and he releases my other hand and does the same until both of his arms are around me. When he has me securely against his chest, his body shudders, and he pulls me closer.

"Are you okay?" he asks, his lips right next to my ear.

"Yeah," I admit with a pleasure-filled voice.

"Put your arms around my waist, Haven. I want to feel you hug me too."

I realize that I'm standing here in his embrace with my arms hanging at my sides. Slowly, I let my hands come up to his waist, and I tentatively touch him there. He sucks in a breath, and I lean back to look at him. "You okay?"

He nods. "Yeah, don't stop."

I slide my hands around him until I'm pressed against him and I'm holding on to his back. I can feel his muscles move everywhere I touch him, and we stand here in each other's arms without saying anything. He rests his cheek on the top of my head and holds me flush against his hard body. It feels so good, and I don't want it to end.

"You feel good in my arms, peaches."

I lean my cheek against his chest, and I can feel his heart beating wildly. "This feels good, King. "

I should probably be embarrassed. I know he's way more experienced than me and that I'm making a big deal over a hug, but this feels good… it feels right. "I've never been hugged before."

"Never?" he asks huskily.

I try to think back, and I can't remember ever being in someone's arms… not like this. "If I have, I was too young to remember it."

His hand comes up and cradles my head against him. "Maybe we can do this more often then because I can already tell this is going to be an addiction for me."

I sigh and lean into his touch. "Me too," I whisper.