Page 92 of Damiano De Luca (The Five Syndicates)
Damian didn’t lie when he said he had attached the old library to the new one. It’s literally attached by some extra wall frames and an extended foundation. The dark Victorian decor clashes with the light farmhouse-style beach house, but I love it.
When I step into the old library, all the good memories from the first time I fell in love with Damian greet me. Everything is pretty much the same, except he flew to New York and took pictures of every Toynbee tile of ours. Those pictures are now framed in bookends on some of the shelves.
I grab a Sharpie from the desk and return to the divan. My fingers open the paperback. The Toynbee Convector. Skimming through the book until I land on “The Toynbee Convector,” I slide a photograph onto the page and close the book.
We’re reading it tomorrow. I can’t wait until he opens it and finds the ultrasound I had taken yesterday. I can’t wait for a lot of things lately. Every second of life with Damian excites me, and I can’t believe I went ten years without him.
The door creaks open. I set the book beside me on the divan, hoping it doesn’t draw Damian’s attention.
His eyes are a little sleepy, but I know he’s alert because we always are. It’s not the type of training we can turn off. “You’re up late.”
“I couldn’t sleep.”
He sends me a sly grin and crosses the room to me. “I can help you with that.”
“Oh? How so?”
“I hear orgasms help you sleep better.”
“That’s mostly for men.” I place my hand on the front of his thigh, my head eye level with his growing erection. “I have a better idea.”
“A better idea than orgasms?”
“I think you’ll like it.”
I stay seated, though he stands in front of me, his head tilted down to meet my gaze. I can tell he thinks I’m about to pull out his erection, but instead, I lean around him and grab the Sharpie. His smile slips, and it takes everything in me not to laugh.
Grabbing his left hand, I press my lips to it and sigh onto his skin. “I love you, Damian. I have spent a decade missing you, and whenever I think of it, I can’t believe how stubborn we were. How stubborn I was. The truth is, I’ve always known that you’re it for me. I knew it when we were kids, and I know it now.” I uncap the pen. “I don’t want to spend another second without you. I don’t want to spend another second as anything other than your wife. You’ve already put a ring on my finger. Will you let me put one on yours?”
“You’re asking me to marry you?”
“Yes, but technically,”—I raise my left hand—“you put a ring on me first. I just want that to be clear.”
“Crystal clear.” He gives me his hand, and a stupid grin lights up my face as I draw a line around his ring finger.
I meet his eyes. “Do you know what this means?”
“What?”
“I basically just emasculated you by being the one to ask you to marry me.” I don’t actually believe that, but I know his reaction will amuse me. I smirk at his narrowed eyes. “I think you need to reclaim your manhood.”
I squeal and drop the Sharpie as he lifts me and grinds his erection into my core. My legs knock against the paperback, and it falls to the ground. The ultrasound slides out.
“What’s this?” Damian sets me down, bends over, and picks it up. The widest smile I’ve ever seen on him crosses his face, even wider than when I drew that ring on his finger. “You’re pregnant?”
“Yup. Sixteen weeks. I didn’t even realize it because my cycle has been irregular since I removed my IUD.”
“You’re not even showing.”
“I am, but I think you’ve been distracted by my new curves.”
“Did you propose because you’re pregnant?”
I shook my head. “No, I found out I was pregnant when I took a test two days ago. I’ve been planning this for about a month.”
He eyes The Toynbee Convector. “You’ve been waiting for us to get to this book.”
I nodded to the ultrasound picture. “The baby was just a happy coincidence.”
