Page 119 of Ravage

Poppy picked up a yellow marker and went back to coloring. I watched her for a moment, and a slow, wide smile slipped across her cute face. That little girl knew exactly what she was doing, just like Emery did when she drew those bikes. And I fell for it hook, line, and sinker.

EPILOGUE

Ravage

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“Enjoying what?”

“Tormenting me.”

A mischievous smirk crossed her face as she said, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You’re full of shit.” I leaned against the doorway as I grumbled, “It’s been two months, Em. How long are you planning on dragging this out?”

“As long as it takes.”

I had tried to be patient. I tried to understand why she was so adamant that we needed to take our time and make sure we didn’t rush into something we weren’t ready for. But it was bullshit. We were ready. I knew it in my gut.

And over the past few weeks, I’d done everything I could to prove it. I’d taken her on dates, just the two of us and with the kids. We’d gone to baseball games, the movies, and even the rodeo. You name it. We did it.

I did everything I could think of to show her what our life could look like, all of us together, doing the simple shit that made us a family. There were moments when I could tell it was working. She'd linger a little longer at the end of the night, or she'd look at me when she thought I wasn't paying attention. And she’d started talking about the kids like they were hers.

But Em was a stubborn woman.

It was going to take more than a couple of great dates to convince her. So, I started giving her some space. Lots of it. I didn’t kiss her every chance I got or pull her to my side when we slept. I didn’t have sex with her or even mention it, and other than a simple kiss good night, I kept my hands to myself.

It wasn't easy. Hell, it was fucking torture. You couldn’t imagine the willpower it took to have her close and not be able to touch her. And it was getting to her, too. There was no missing that longing look in her eye, but she didn’t budge. She just played along, but I was about to step up my game. “I was thinking we could do something different tonight.”

“Oh?” She looked up from her book. “What did you have in mind?”

“Thought we could go downtown, eat at one of those fancy restaurants everyone’s been talking about, and maybe stay the night.”

“That could be fun, but we could just grab something around here.” She shrugged. “I’m good with whatever.”

She was fucking with me. I could feel it in my bones, but she was about to see just how far I’d go to get what I wanted. “Nah, I’m in the mood for something different.”

“Okay. I’ll need to run by my place and get a dress.”

“That’s fine. I’ll pick you up there.”

As soon as she left, I called and made reservations at the restaurant and a nearby hotel. An hour later, I put on my black suit and showed up at her door ready to close the deal.

But the second she opened it, I knew I was fucked. She’d turned the tables on me. She was wearing a little black dress that hugged her curves in all the right places, and her hair was pulled back, revealing those emerald-green eyes that drove me wild. And she was wearing some crazy perfume that I swear she put on specifically to destroy me.

It took everything I had not to take her right then and there. I was just about to break when she threw her hands in the air and said, "Okay, fine. You win."

"I win?"

"Yep. I'm done."

I couldn’t hold back my smile as I asked, "Whatcha saying, babe?"

She met my eyes and said it plain. "I'm saying I’ll move in with you.”

And just like that, every night I'd kept my hands to myself was worth it. “When?”

“Right now, but I have a condition.”