Page 54 of When He Was Mine

“No. Tell me,” I urged, sitting up to meet his eyes.

Christ, Ryleigh, it’s you. I crave you. Last night was just an example of my need,” he confessed, his words sending a shiver down my spine.

“Your love scares me sometimes. I’m afraid I might do something to break your heart,” I admitted, feeling vulnerable.

“I’m sure you won’t. I can feel how much you love me,” he reassured me, his touch gentle.

“I do, but we’re holding on so tightly to each other,” I confessed, feeling the weight of our connection.

“That shouldn’t scare you. It should make you happy that we’re bonded,” he insisted, his voice tender but firm.

“Are you mine today?” I asked, seeking reassurance.

“Yes. I have nothing going on, but I might receive a call from Carla Chan,” he replied, mentioning his attorney.

“Your attorney?” I inquired, curious about his schedule.

“She’s working on some contracts,” he explained.

“Does she ever sleep?” I joked.

“You’d have to ask her, but I suspect not,” he replied with a chuckle.

“She’s worse than you,” I teased.

“I thought no one was worse than me?” he quipped back.

“I haven’t met everyone at your company,” I countered playfully.

“You will eventually. I got in touch with Rigo Vicaria. You can make an appointment with him this week,” he informed me, referring to the wedding dress designer.

I nodded, grateful for his thoughtfulness. With Oliver by my side, I felt ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead.

“I thought I was working with Rachel?” I questioned, a hint of confusion in my voice.

“Either one. They work together. I’m sure anything they design will be magnificent,” Oliver replied, his confidence unwavering.

“I have no doubt. Their designs are beautiful,” I admitted, feeling a surge of excitement for our upcoming wedding.

“Not compared to you,” he insisted, his gaze filled with adoration.

“What colors should we have for the wedding?” I asked, eager to involve him in the planning process.

“It’s your choice,” he replied, his tone indicating his willingness to support whatever decision I made.

“It’s our wedding. Shouldn’t you have a choice?” I pressed, wanting him to take an active role in the decision-making.

“I’ll go along with whatever you want,” he assured me, his words filled with sincerity.

“Black and blood red,” I suggested playfully, enjoying the banter.

“It’s a summer wedding. Those colors are too heavy for the time of year,” he countered, his practicality shining through.

“You see, you do have an opinion,” I teased, delighted by his engagement in the conversation.

“I guess. Pick something lighter,” he relented, allowing me to take the lead.

“I was thinking powder blue and sapphire, like your eyes,” I proposed, a smile tugging at the corners of my lips.

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