CHAPTER 62

I wake up in the morning, and the bed smells like Timothy.

I roll over to find him gone, but there's a sticky note on the pillow.

Morning, Six.

I grin as I shift out of bed, tugging down the hem of my T-shirt and stepping around the overnight bag he brought. I head out to the living room.

"This for me?" I hold up the sticky note.

Timothy turns from where he's standing at the counter, the smell of coffee wafting through our place. "Mhmm. How'd I know you'd have the ingredients for Rice Krispies squares?"

"It's a bribe, isn't it?" I shift in front of him, winding my arms around his neck. "So I don't tell my dad I woke up in your bed." I cock my head. "Okay, technically my bed. But still."

His hands slide down my sides, making every part of me wake up under his touch even before he presses his lips to my jaw. "You're going to wake up in my bed every day, always."

He hitches me up on the counter and kisses me, taking his time. I press myself against him, threading my hands into his hair. He tugs me closer to the edge, my panties the only thing between us.

And they're getting damp fast.

"Andie could walk in," I protest half-heartedly.

"Andie's out for the day," Timothy mutters between kisses. "And we have to make up for lost time. I'm going to have you on every surface of this apartment."

Holy.

His fingers trace a path up the inside of my thigh, and I hiccup a breath when they slip under my panties and tease me.

"Oh."

"Oh what?"

"Ohhh, I've missed that."

He chuckles before pressing two fingers inside me. My nails dig into his shoulders as my body contracts around him.

"You're so wet. Think I'm going to slide right in."

"Do it," I mumble.

Timothy works off his jeans, no boxer briefs underneath. He's already impressively hard, his abs flexing as if it takes all of him not to impale me right now. He pulls me to the edge of the counter, brushing his tip against my needy skin.

I kiss him with love, with need, with the desperation that never seems to be far away when it comes to us... but with a kind of comfort that's new.

We have nothing but time.

Timothy eases into me as if he believes that too. I'm balanced on the edge of the counter, my legs tight around him, holding on to keep from falling in more ways than one.

"Nothing's has ever felt as good as you," he murmurs against my mouth. "You're made for me, Emily."

Every stroke is beautiful satisfaction and torture at once, and I need more. He rasps as he builds us both up, fingers digging into my ass as he fucks me.

It's beautiful. It's messy. It's us.

When I come around him, he can't hold back, and he comes too, groaning his release against my shoulder while my fingers play in his hair, the last of the aftershocks running through me.

"Well, I feel better," I murmur.

He grins. "Same."

"Good, because we have a busy day."

"We do?"

"I have to do work things."

"You can't take today off? Because I'm going to need you again in two hours max."

Arousal washes over me. "No. But you can come with me. Maybe we can fit in a quickie at lunch."

"'Bring your fiancé to work' day. Sold."

I bite my cheek because the thought of bringing Timothy to my anything as my fiancé makes me so insanely happy.

"Tell me you're done by five," Timothy says.

I trace his handsome jaw with a finger. "Should be possible. Why?"

"Because I have a realtor lined up to show us a couple places. I love Andie too, but we can't live here long term."

"The rent is great."

"I don't care. I'm getting us something nice for as long as we're in New York."

"Fine. Are you going to record here?"

"I thought I might get involved in your dad's label. Both as a business proposition and for my own music. But only if it won't come between you."

I shake my head. "Not at all. He'd love that. And I would too."

Something buzzes from across the room-my phone.

"Shit. It's Dad."

We didn't call him back after getting engaged last night because we wanted a few moments to ourselves.

"He knows you're here. If I don't answer, he's going to think we were having sex."

Timothy's eyes crinkle at the corners. "Please don't answer."

I pull down my T-shirt and straighten my hair. Then I squeeze past him and grab the phone, sliding the bar so the video call connects.

"Hey, you guys!" I say but frown as I take in the unfamiliar backdrop, my dad's pale face, and Haley's sweaty one. "Did you paint? Oh my God! You're in the hospital. You had the baby!"

"Once we finally got here, he was out in three hours," Haley sighs.

Timothy appears behind me, and my dad's eyes narrow while Haley looks delighted, the baby in her arms.

We gush over baby Mason and get all the details.

"Nice work," Timothy says, and my dad grins.

He looks beyond proud. "How about you two? Any news we should know?"

"Well, we cast someone in the lead for the musical."

I swear my dad looks disappointed. "Thats it?"

"And..." I hold up the ring.

"Timothy. Tell me you didn't go down on one knee," Dad snorts.

Haley shoves his shoulder. "Don't act like you're too cool for that. You've done it. You even cried."

My jaw drops.

"I didn't cry," he says.

"Your eyes were shining."

"Trick of the light."

"Anyway." Haley rolls her eyes, turning back to us. "We're so happy for you both."

"Thanks Haley, we're happy for you, too. All of you."

Timothy clears his throat. "Eddie, we have a couple of weeks before we really gear up for the musical. I'd like to use your studio if I can book time."

"You got it."

When we hang up and I toss the phone back on the table, feeling the only man I've ever loved pull me against him again, I've never been more content.

"I'm ready for those Rice Krispies squares now," I sigh.

Timothy's eyes crinkle. "Only if I can eat them off you."