Dean (Unexpected, #9)

by Cora Rose

I’ve noticed there may be other reasons Ben is so eager to spend his free time around the shop. Two very large, tattooed male reasons. Perhaps Ben is a sluttier slut than I give him credit for.

I’m not sure they could handle it or if they would accept me like that. I’m not sure if I’m ready to come out and do it, either.

Because apparently, I’m going to grab my stuff and move in with the man of my dreams—a

He smells like gasoline and fire and smoke. He’s a real meat-and-potatoes kind of guy. I want to slather him in A1 Sauce and lick every hard inch of him.

“Shit, Avery. Where does it hurt?” he asks. My dick. That’s where it hurts, Dean.

What does that mean? Special? Between that and the spanking comment earlier I’m halfway down the aisle already.

“You smell like Avery,” he murmurs, and my eyes flutter closed. How the hell does he know what I smell like? He should not be saying these romantic things to me. I already have the wedding dress picked out, and now I’m writing our wedding vows.

He’s like some kind of enigma. All those slim lines on his body, the long hair, those pretty gray eyes.

That first day when he showed up to interview, his cheeks pink and his lips slightly wet, I remember feeling a little zing in my groin. I thought it was penile cancer. Turns out, it’s just him.

We’re left staring after him, our lips unsure whether to smile or frown. Bane…well, he’s something else entirely.

“You be you, Avery. Don’t let those fuckers tell you to change.”

Maybe it’s time to start being me out in the open. Maybe it’s finally time to show the world who I really am. And to see what Dean really thinks.

He was great at organizing my work life and he smelled ridiculously good. I needed a little dessert in my life at the time, I suppose. And now I’m fucked. Shouldn’t have been such a glutton.

“I’m sure. You already painted a wall purple, and it’s growing on me. And I still want a painting hung on my wall. I want more color in my life, Avery. I’m not ready for you to leave. Not any time soon.”

“This one is going to decide,” I say, and Avery rolls his eyes, his lips pink and wet. “I mean, yes, if you were serious about me staying. But I don’t want to overstep.” I pull him into me once more, ignoring the impatient man next to me. “I mean it. I don’t want you to leave. I want you to step all over my life.”

“For the flowers,” I explain, and Avery’s hands move to his mouth, his eyes watering. “Oh god, you want to marry me, don’t you? This is a proposal. I knew it. I fucking knew it.” I know he’s joking, but fuck, I mean…yeah? I meant it when I said I want him to stay. I meant that as in forever.

I know that this is the man I’m going to marry. It’s no longer a dream, it’s reality. Dean is my future. My dreams came true.