One Bossy Proposal: An Enemies to Lovers Romance (Bossy Seattle Suits)

Three Months Later

Ifumble with the tie, which is knotted and lopsided.

Groaning, I untie it, clenching my fingers around both ends to try again.

“Easy, tiger. It’s already dead.” Wyatt moves closer, a shit-eating smile plastered on his face. “Let go. I’ve got it.”

“Whoever tailored this suit should have left more room for the tie. It’s too damn long.”

He laughs. “Isn’t this your brand?”

He removes the tie from my neck, lines the ends up, restrings it, and ties it.

“Hell, I didn’t design them personally. I just market them.”

“Don’t say that too loud. Bad publicity.” He sits down on my couch. “You know the tie isn’t what you’re fussing about, right?”

My eyes dagger him.

“What, now you’re my shrink? Okay, Doctor Emory. Enlighten me.”

“Burns, you’re a nervous wreck. You’re gonna be fine. Raven—”

“Will you ever call my wife by her name?” I grumble.

“Raven sounds cooler, but maybe I’ll reconsider once you get through your vows without barfing all over that sweet outfit. She loves you, idiot. You’ve got nothing to worry about.” His words are the usual Wyatt crap, but the brotherly slap on my shoulder doesn’t lie.

He means well, and he’s also the closest thing I’ll ever have to a brother.

“You got cold feet?” he asks gently.

I look at him flatly.

“You’re worried she does?”

“…or that she’ll outgrow me,” I admit harshly.

“But you’re willing to risk it?”

“Obviously. I need to know she’s mine.”

“Listen, man, everybody freaks out about starting a new life till one day they wake up, and they’re already living it. You’ll be fine, Burns.”

“But what if—”

“No. Don’t even. You’re not me, and she’s damn sure not Olivia,” he growls.

I check my watch.

“We’ve got to get the hell out of here. If I’m late, Dakota might keel over, and I can’t do that to her.”

Wyatt follows me outside to the limo. Louis waits with a bright-red boutonniere pinned to his lapel, holding the door for us.

“I’m sure you’ll want privacy with your new lady,” Wyatt says in the car, leaning in. “So I’m taking Meadow camping for a few days while you’re starting your honeymoon.”

I roll my eyes at him.

“There’s practically an acre between the guesthouse and mine. It’s not like you’ll be interrupting anything. Besides, our flight leaves the next day.”

“Lincoln, this was never meant to last forever. I’m back on my feet, and you might need a place to put up your in-laws for a few days if they want to go sightseeing after you’re gone,” he says.

“Nevermore won’t let them stay in the guesthouse. She wants them in a spare room in my house.” I shrug. “It works. We have plenty of space.”

Wyatt laughs and punches my arm. “Since I’ll be gone by the time they get here, maybe you can convince her.”

“How are you liking the mailroom, anyway?”

“It’s a decent living. I have grunts to boss around. Everything’s done neat and wrapped up at the end of the day. It’s nice feeling useful again. Meadow got a job too.”

“Nice. Where at?”

“A daycare. Turns out she’s really good with little kids.”

More good news for Wyatt. I smile.

“Has she met Micha yet?”

He shakes his head. “Nah. When school breaks in the spring, he’s coming for a couple weeks. They’ll meet then.”

“You’re doing well for a change, Emory. I’m happy as hell to see it,” I say.

“Yeah, no shit, because I owe it all to you.”

I laugh. “Karma repaid. I’m only alive on my wedding day thanks to you.”

We both look away like we’ve said too much. It’s one of those awkward man moments where you’re so damn happy it’s hard to keep a lid on anything.

My phone buzzes, and I take it out of my pocket to glance at the screen.

Dakota: Where the hell are you?

Lincoln: Still early and on my way, Nevermore. No need to worry.

The phone rings a second later and I swipe the green icon.

“Talk to me,” I say, expecting my girl.

“My new daughter is freaking out. Where are you, son?” Ma practically screeches in my ear.

“About five or ten minutes out. Can you put her on?”

A pause.

“Hello?” Dakota’s voice quivers.

“Are you crying, sweetheart?”

“No!” she lies with a sniffle.

“Why are you freaking out?”

“You wouldn’t elope, and you’re not here yet.”

“Dakota, if the town car gets hit by a bus before we get there, I will crawl out of the wreck and carry Wyatt on my back.” I nod at him. The look he throws back says he’d totally be the one carrying me.

“What if you’re struck by lightning after that? There are hazards to marrying a Poe.”

Her voice is no longer shaky.

I laugh. “Woman, you’ve already bewitched me. If lightning strikes after surviving the bus, I’ll put the fire out and keep coming.”

“How?”

“What do you mean how? Stop, drop, and roll. Did you skip elementary school?”

Wyatt laughs beside me. “You want me to tell her I’ll get you there?”

I shake my head. I enjoy flirting with my wife-to-be even if she’s being ridiculous. The huge, splendid house attached to the golf club slowly comes into view.

“Nevermore, we’re pulling up now. I’ll see you soon.”

“We’re in the woods,” she says absently.

“I know. You’ll be the one in the white dress, right?”

“Um, well…”

“You’re not in a white dress?” I can’t tell if she’s joking as I say, “I thought we picked the new Haughty But Nice line?”

“We did. I just had it dyed black. It felt right.”

For a second, I’m planted in my seat.

“You dyed your wedding dress black?”

Wyatt barks laughter beside me, head back and fingers in his eyes.

“Mm-hmm. But I have cool peacock feathers in my hair! Hair accessories by day, pens by night.”

One more look at Wyatt and I lose my shit. I’m doubled over in my seat, laughing so hard I need to wipe my eyes.

“Lincoln?” she says for the fifth time.

“You’re lucky I love you. See you soon,” I promise.

“You’re not upset I dyed the dress without telling you?” she asks in a small voice.

“Surprised, yes. Not upset. As long as you’re mine today, I don’t care if you show up in palm leaves strapped together.”

“I’m already yours,” she whispers happily.

I smile. “And I want that on paper, Mrs. Almost-Burns.”

We’re passing through the gated entrance, winding up to the walkway that will bring us to our spot in the woods where we have everything set up for the big show.

“See you soon,” I tell her one more time, already throbbing at how she’ll look in that dress.

Wyatt looks at me with some insufferable bullshit clearly on his lips.

“What?” I prompt.

“You’re getting married in the woods at dusk and your bride’s wearing a black dress. You really are wifeing up a Poe, dude.”

“Shut up,” I warn, trying not to smile.

Because he’s too right, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

He gets out of the car ahead of me when Louis looks back and gives me his best wishes.

I trail behind my best friend and we start down the walkway. He moves quicker than I expect, well adapted to his new leg now.

The walkway takes us to a circular clearing tucked in a thicket of huge old trees. A judge stands in the middle of the circle with the Bible. Two lines of tall white folding chairs are arranged neatly around the paved circle, and my mom waits at the end in a lace dress.

I take her arm. “Let’s find you a seat. I’m sure you’ve been running your tail off.”

“Oh, Lincoln, she’s so beautiful today. You’ll cry when you see her.” She blots her eyes, already shedding enough tears for the entire guest list.

I laugh softly, pleasantly surprised.

I expected Ma to be taken aback by the black dress. Apparently, she’s so happy I’m tying the knot that she doesn’t even mention it.

Wyatt and I lead her to the front row seating, and then I wait next to the judge. Wyatt stands beside me, adjusting his tie.

Then, with a swell of violins, my future begins.

Eliza steps out of the trees at the end of the aisle in a sleek blue Haughty But Nice bridesmaid gown, slowly walking toward us. She carries a small bundle of white baby’s breath and moves like she’s gliding on air, only stopping when she’s next to us, leaving a space for my Nevermore.

Dakota and her dad come out of the trees next, and she’s—not wearing the black dress she promised.

My eyebrows pull down as I swallow a chuckle. My heart hits my rib cage at the same time.

“You fell for it,” Wyatt whispers conspiratorially.

I’d dart him a look if I wasn’t transfixed on the angel in front of me.

“She loves to harass me,” I mutter, grateful that I’ve got an entire lifetime of that ahead.

The dress she actually wears is white, flowing around her flawlessly like silk fog. With tiny rosebuds pinned in her blond hair, she’d be the envy of every runway model up and down the West Coast.

“She’s…breathtaking,” I whisper, my voice stolen.

Wyatt smiles knowingly.

Her father, a large pleasant man with a round face and rounder gut, walks her to me and places her hand in mine.

“Take care of her for me,” he whispers, clasping my hand so tight in his it almost breaks.

“I will, Harold,” I promise.

“We wrote our own vows,” Dakota says.

The judge smiles. “Go ahead and get started, if you please.”

“I’ll go first,” she offers.

Oh, shit.

Dakota’s first poetry book is already racking up acclaim with the critics. I don’t want to go after her since it’ll be a tough act to follow.

“Sweetheart, let me,” I whisper, taking her hand in mine as she nods.

I’m grateful it’s a small audience now.

The entire world seems to shrink and fall silent, condensing around us in this weird, remarkable bubble that’s just her drumming heart and mine.

“Dakota Poe, I never knew I needed anyone else in my life until the day you refused to give up a cinnamon roll—”

She giggles, so does everyone else.

“You were beautiful and feisty and strong. I never expected to see you again after our run-in. Then you danced into my office and wrapped my staff around your little finger. You made me think. You opened my eyes. You rocked my entire world. I love you more than life because you made me whole, and you still do every single day we’re together. I know better than anyone that I’m a work in progress. You, sweetheart, are my muse. Will you be my forever?”

She smiles and nods vigorously with a heavy tear shining in her eye.

“Yes,” she says breathlessly.

Then she pulls her hand from mine and finds a folded piece of paper inside the bouquet she’s still holding.

“I’m not done…” I remind her.

Though I wish I were because then I wouldn’t be rendered nearly speechless. Her soft smile becomes a wide grin, and those dazzling emerald eyes stare up at me.

“From today forward, we’ll love with a love that’s more than love.”

Her smile deepens, even as she looks a bit puzzled at how I’ve butchered Edgar Allan’s line from “Annabel Lee.”

I don’t think that’s how it goes, her eyes say.

“Had to tweak it,” I tell her, leaning in to meet her eyes. “With us, it’ll never be past tense.”

I’m not quiet enough. Mom laughs, and our entire wedding party beams at us.

“I love you,” she whispers, looking down at the piece of paper in her hand. “I’ve never been good at big speeches, but I did write this…”

She clears her throat and begins to read her latest epic while I stand there like a stone, listening.

“She lives between the black of night and shades of grey.

Then comes an ivory Adonis, all spinning light.

He, who woke a heart from cold dead.

Her white knight.

Her heaven thread.

He made a withered heart beat red,

Terrified, she curled in dread.

“This is no game,” he said.

“Please take my name.”

Fear begs, “But what if you change your mind?

Change your life? Leave me behind?”

“Nevermore, get a clue.

I can’t live without you.”

“This is no game,” he said.

“Please take my name.”

He’s a white knight, but she’s not hunting for a wedding night.

Still, he made a withered heart beat red.

Woke it from dead.

“Yes,” she said.

She wasn’t hunting for a wedding night.

She’s afraid to take flight.

But she owes him her life.

And he cherishes a wife.

Play with magic.

Dance with fire.

You must pay.

A lesson that slowly burns.

Burns who? Burns what?

Burns, me.

Burns, we—

Both of us, Burns be.”

Fucking floored.

It’s a small miracle I’m still standing.

Without thinking, I reach out and cup Dakota’s face, guiding her closer.

I can’t wait. I bring her lips to mine, kissing her like I’ve wanted to ever since she sent the first draft of that poem. The words have changed a lot, but somehow without the sex, it’s even hotter.

Her flowers brush my back, skimming over my suit’s fabric with a whoosh as they hit the floor.

A throat clears somewhere.

I’m too preoccupied to care.

“We usually exchange the rings before the kiss, but go ahead,” the judge says.

I pull away from her.

“Sorry,” I whisper.

“I’m not,” she says intently.

God. This woman drives me certifiably insane even when she’s completely innocent.

“Exchange rings,” the judge urges.

I turn to Wyatt, who hands me the ring.

Dakota takes the ring from a grinning, teary-eyed Eliza and slides it on my finger.

I push Dakota’s ring on her hand, then bring it to my mouth and kiss gingerly. Even her little finger feels more precious than gold.

“This is where I’d normally say ‘kiss the bride,’ but we’ve already done that part. I now pronounce you man and wife!” the judge says.

With applause bursting around us, I clasp my wife by the hand and march forward.

I lead her down the patio pavilion where the reception will be with a bigger group of our family and friends. It’s in a massive heated yurt tent thrown up to dampen the winter chill.

The sun slips toward the horizon as we come up to the patio, glowing with twinkling lights.

“See? I told you this was the perfect time of day for a wedding,” she says.

“Hell, marrying you would’ve been perfect at three a.m.” I tighten my hold on her fingers.

She wraps her arms around my neck. “You’ve been very sweet today.”

“What? I’m always sweet. You just got yourself a husband without going to pieces. I’m proud it’s me, Nevermore,” I whisper, stopping to steal a kiss.

When we resume walking, I see her wipe away a glorious tear.

When we arrive, the first thing I see is a massive three-tier cake. It’s white and decorated with a nearly life-sized black raven perched on a black tree that spirals down all three tiers. The groom’s cake is decorated with photos of us posing for the Haughty But Nice wedding line.

Eliza runs up later, holding Dakota’s bouquet. “I think you forgot this!”

Nevermore takes it. “Thanks, lady.”

“Look who I found.” Wyatt appears next with Meadow clutching his arm, her worn flannel and jeans traded for a sleek purple dress that accents her slender frame. Emory looks like he could have her for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, and I’m sure they’ll be ducking out early.

“I rode over with Dakota’s family. I didn’t want to crash your special time,” she explains.

Mom runs toward us with her arms outstretched. I move to hug her, but she closes Dakota in her arms. “You’re sooo gorgeous! The daughter I always dreamed of.”

“I don’t know,” my mother-in-law says. “She was grounded her entire tenth grade year.”

“Oh?” I pull my wife closer to me. “I knew Nevermore had a naughty streak, but now I have to hear this story.”

“I do not!” Dakota lets out a mortified laugh. “And no, you don’t.”

“That’s nothing. She cost me two thousand dollars in ER bills after she jumped out of a second-story window,” her dad says.

I look at her.

“I wanted to go to a party. He was like a prison guard.”

I plant a kiss in her hair. “Surely, you could have let her go to a party.”

“A frat boy came home for the summer. It was his party and everyone there was older than twenty, not that she made it there,” her father explains.

“Oh, let’s just get through this reception, so you two birds can take off.” Mom grabs Dakota’s hand. “As soon as you’re sick of this, you guys should go and we’ll handle the rest.” Ma leans in, never one to be shy. “Plus, I need grandbabies, Lincoln, and I’m not going to get them with you here gabbing.”

Goddamn, she’s not subtle.

Dakota overhears and turns bright red.

“Ma!” I whip out.

“Oh, sorry.”

It’s an interesting night. Mother keeps trying to shoo us off to make her a grandkid ASAP.

Meadow and Wyatt make out in a corner, while Eliza fights three other women out of the way and grabs the bouquet at the toss.

“I’d better be next now that Dakota abandoned me,” she says.

I’m just glad when it’s over and I finally get to have my wife alone.

Three Days Later

We sit on the patio together, exhausted after two sleepless nights wearing each other out and then the world’s longest flight.

Damn if it isn’t worth it, though.

Crystal blue water washes over our feet, ripples back, and repeats.

“I’ve never seen water so blue,” she whispers with awe.

“The Maldives is a special place. I’ll show you around tomorrow. You’re going to love it,” I say, smiling because it’s only my third time here.

“I’m sure I will.” She yawns, covering her mouth with one hand as she stands. “I’m going to go get ready for bed.”

I stand and draw her to me. “I’ll be inside soon.”

I kiss her cheek and then her lips, tugging her close.

“I love you,” she says with a parting squeeze.

Nevermore heads in while I linger outside, watching the waves swirl like they’re carrying away the last of our old lives.

Good fucking riddance.

I glance down at the simple solid gold band on my finger and grin.

Until I met this blond pixie, I never thought marriage was for me.

Now, I don’t want to know what my life would be without the other half of my soul.

The waves must hold my attention longer than I think with a lukewarm beer in my hand, because the next thing I know, a soft voice behind me says, “Lincoln.”

I look over my shoulder.

My wife stands in the doorway, wearing nothing but a soft blue bathrobe that barely covers her chest. She’s left it loose deliberately. There’s a body made for sin that’s ready for me, and I’m already aching.

I swallow the last dregs of my beer, stand, and draw her to me at the door.

My lips find hers like starving wolves.

She slides her tongue in my mouth, just as eager, her earlier tiredness gone.

I fall into the kiss, sucking and stroking, reminding us both that this is real.

This is mine.

This is us.

Dakota moans, thick and honey-sweet, without breaking the kiss.

When her leg goes around me, I move my hands under her ass and lift her.

Our bodies align perfectly.

Tongue to tongue, chest to chest, her all malleable softness while I’m so fucking hard I think I have a lethal weapon attached to my body.

With a growl caught in my throat, I throw her down on the bed.

She giggles as I tear her robe shell loose, hurling it to the floor, baring her like the delicate flower she is.

This may technically be the third day we’ve fucked since saying our vows.

I don’t care.

With this woman, every time is just as electric as the first time, and as soulful as the last.

She looks up, her eyes wide, yanking my swim trunks away.

Once I’m free, she traces my shaft with one finger, gliding it up my length in a slow, teasing stroke.

“Fuck,” I grind out, capturing her eyes.

She draws a gentle circle around my throbbing head, looking up with a devilish smile.

There goes my last thread of control.

My mouth meets her as I rear up, climbing on top of her, my throat like sandpaper as I flick the head of my cock at her entrance.

My erection coats itself in her wetness and smacks her clit.

Goddamn, do I love that little pleasure sigh that always falls out of her.

She winds her fingers through my hair, pulling me closer, deepening the kiss with a hot moan against my tongue.

Her other hand rests above my bare ass.

Her knees come up and she arches under me.

The woman is a human radiator, burning for my fullness. I’m happy to oblige.

I break our kiss, releasing a slow breath as I sink into her.

Her arms clasp my neck and she kisses my chin, shuddering under me.

With a silent look that’s all fire, I drive in, bottoming out with my balls on her ass, claiming every last inch of her.

Our breaths come harder.

We’re melded together, deliriously still, connected for God only knows how long.

I don’t need more. I don’t dare ask.

How could I when I’m living in heaven?

I lower my head closer to her ear.

“I love you, Mrs. Burns.” A laugh falls out of me. I’ll never, ever get sick of calling her that.

“Show me how much,” she whispers back, drawing my thumb into her mouth and sucking it.

Fuck.

I’m thrusting like a madman by the time her fingers rake through my hair, tugging, each moan falling out of her louder than the last.

Our bodies go to war, giving and taking, seething and sweating and pulsing in happy chaos. My hips crash down on hers with a mind of their own.

I’m famished, and so is she, her little body twisting under me as my pubic bone drags friction against her clit.

Her pussy clenches like a second mouth, dragging me to madness, begging me to come with her with an illusion of choice.

I couldn’t hold back to save my life.

Not today.

Not when she’s like this.

Not when I want to mark my wife with seed she’ll still be leaking when we shower tomorrow morning.

“Dakota!” I thrust so deep my spine bends.

“Lincoln! Oh God, oh yeah, come inside me.”

I fucking explode in a mess so hot I think she’ll have to peel me off the bed later.

Her body spasms around mine, a firing spring, all of my senses gone except the raging need to pour myself inside her.

She wrings me out for a small eternity before I pull away, still hard, and crash down on the bed next to her.

“Nevermore.” I sigh. I tuck her head under my chin and hold her as we both struggle to find our breath. Once I’ve regained control of myself, I roll beside her and pull her into my arms.

She trembles as I trace a finger down her back.

“What? I just touched you.”

She shrugs. “My senses are in overdrive after that.”

“And I love the way your senses react to me.”

Dakota falls asleep in my arms.

I run a finger through her hair and slowly fade off to sleep, my eyes drifting to that raven tattoo last. When we’re back in the States, she’s getting that touched up.

The heart no longer broken. My name around it, a seal of trust and love she’s promised as a wedding gift.

It’s beautiful and it’s also sexy as hell.

My dick goes hard again as I fade out, thinking about taking her while she’s branded with my name.

When I wake up in the morning glow, Dakota sits across the room, already wearing her swimsuit and a see-through wrap.

“You’re too far away,” I tell her.

She smiles, holding up a small plate with a glazed bun. “I got you breakfast. No Regis rolls here, but they do have these Japanese cinnamon buns.”

“Fuck pastries, sweetheart. I want you.”

“Oh, I think you’ll want to eat this one, hubby,” she tells me with a wink. “Just come here.”

My eyes narrow, wondering what she’s up to.

“Lincoln.” She holds up the plate again impatiently.

Fine. Whatever.

I stumble to the edge of the bed and take the roll from her hands.

Then I pick it up, take a huge bite, and—almost break a tooth as she gasps.

“Oh, be careful!”

Too late. I spit something into my palm. It’s…a tiny plastic person?

“What the hell, Nevermore?”

I look at the object in my hand. It’s a small smiling baby.

When I look up, she smiles, her face turning vibrant red.

When it hits me, I fall back on the bed with a heavy bounce.

“Oh, shit. Oh, Jesus, are we—” I pause, sitting up to look at her, probably with eyes bigger than marbles.

Grinning shyly, she nods so briskly her hair flaps.

“How long have you known?” I ask.

“I found out the day before the wedding, but I thought I’d save the news. There aren’t too many things you can get a billionaire bad boy he doesn’t already have, and besides a tattoo job, I figured this might make the list.”

“This definitely makes the list.” I reach for her, damn near bursting with excitement like a kid on Christmas. “Come the hell here!”

This is how I hope it’ll always be with us.

When we’re too lost for words, we just kiss.

Of course, it has its hazards. Neither of us remembers I’m holding a cinnamon bun until the warm, sugary mess is sandwiched between us when I peel back.

“Shit, sorry,” I mutter.

Dakota tries to brush smashed pastry off her swimsuit. It’s not really working. When she looks at me, laughter bursts out of her, explosive and bright.

“It’s perfect,” she says, drawing in a breath while I give her a puzzled look. “Look at us, Lincoln. Hot, messy, and still pretty sweet. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“I would,” I whisper, plucking a strip of flattened roll off my abs and popping it into her mouth.

When we kiss again, it’s not just sugar and spice I’m tasting.

It’s Dakota Burns.

It’s all of my tomorrows.

Both of us, Burns be.