Huxley leaned against the doorframe, grinning like the cat that ate the canary. “Let’s go out.”

“Out…” I repeated slowly.

“Yes. As in, out on a date. Out.”

I felt my cheeks grow warm. A date? We’d been together for almost eight months and we’d not once gone on a date. “Um, it’s a little late for that, isn’t it? I mean, shouldn’t you have taken me out before you knocked me up?” I giggled and touched my warm face. My heart skipped a beat. Was he serious? “Hux... You don’t have to wine and dine me, you know.”

“I want to,” he said simply.

“What about Dresden?”

His grin was cheeky. “Soren already offered to watch him. We have the entire night to ourselves.” He waggled his eyebrows in an exaggerated manner. “Please? Let me take you out. You deserve it, and besides. I kind of already have reservations.”

I squeaked. “Huxley!”

Hux just laughed. “Pretty please, with sugar on top? Are you gonna make me get on my knees and beg?” There was an ornery glint to his coffee-dark eyes, one that told me that if he did, I wouldn’t be wearing pants any longer. Heat roiled to the surface of my skin and I groaned. He crossed the room and planted a kiss upon my lips. “You should get ready.”

“Hux, seriously, I’m fat as hell. There is no getting ready.”

“You aren’t fat—you’re pregnant. There’s a difference. Now go shower and get dressed in something cute that I can enjoy taking off of you later.” With a wink, he strolled back across the room, waving a hand in the air. “You have an hour.”

I might’ve swooned.

I picked out a pair of faded denim maternity jeggings and a teal sweater with a cowl neck, then locked myself in the bathroom to fancy up. I came out smelling like jasmine and by the look on his face when he saw me, Huxley definitely approved. He sauntered over and took me by the hands, turning my arms palm-up. Then, with a satisfied smirk, he tugged up my sleeves and rubbed the sides of his wrists against my own. Marking me with his scent.

My entire body flushed. He stole my breath away with a single kiss. “There. Now everyone will know whose mate you are.”

His reservations were for the fanciest steakhouse I’d ever been to, complete with a loaded buffet table and salad bar. I followed him through the etched glass-front doors in a state of awe, the crystal chandeliers sparkling an array of lights across the maroon-papered walls. I breathed in the savory smells and groaned under my breath.

“You’re spoiling me.”

“You deserve it.” He squeezed my hand and informed the waitstaff of his reservations. The perky young man smiled brightly and gestured for us to follow him. He seated us at a small, two-person booth with sleek leather benches and took our drink orders before hurrying off.

I glanced over the menu, which boasted extravagant prices. Holy shit. “What should I get?”

“Order whatever looks good. I, for one, am going for a thick, juicy steak—the bloodier, the better.”

My stomach grumbled. “Think they have mac and cheese?”

Huxley chuckled. “You and your junk food. I’m sure they do.”

They did. I ordered a small ribeye and the buffet, and piled up a plate full of mac and cheese, mashed potatoes and gravy and what looked to be some sort of cherry dessert. Huxley raised a brow at the carb overload, his shoulders quaking in silent laughter. “What is that?” He gestured to the dessert with his fork.

I took a bite of the cherry cobbler and hummed happily at the sweetness. “It’s delicious. Life’s short—eat dessert first!”

“You’re such a dork.”

Dinner was amazing and by the time we walked out of there, I was stuffed to the brim. Huxley joined our hands as we walked down the strip of stores. Our boots crunched over snow and ice melt. I couldn’t stop smiling, my heart fluttering happily. “Where are we going, Hux?” Because the truck was the other way.

“You’ll see.”

We stopped outside the automatic front doors of a craft store. Huxley drew my hands to his chest, his face flushed with cold. His eyes were bright. “Now we’re gonna go in here and I want you to pick out whatever you want. Anything at all, so long as it helps further your craft. Oil paints, pastels—whatever you need, you got it, okay?”

I could only stare at him. “Why?”

“Because.” His smile was kind. “You’re an amazing artist, Chance. You deserve to have proper materials to bring your art to life. And because I love you and I want to. Now stop arguing with me and let’s go shopping!” He elbowed me in the side, then threw an arm around my shoulders in a quick squeeze.

Overwhelmed, I blinked away tears and followed him. We spent over an hour there, walking up and down the aisles. After much deliberation, I settled on several canvases and an easel, a new sketchbook, a box of Prismacolor markers and, at Huxley’s suggestion, a small set of oil-based paints. We walked out of there, toting plastic bags filled with supplies. My spirits were sailing.

“I don’t think tonight can get any better,” I murmured while Huxley loaded my gifts in the backseat of the truck.

“That’s where you’re wrong,” he replied—and then proceeded to drop to one knee, right there on the slushy pavement. My heart leapt into my throat as he palmed over his pants pocket and withdrew a small black box. I couldn’t breathe. Holy shit… He cracked it open to reveal a glittering golden band set with several tiny diamonds, which caught the light of the streetlamp with a glitter.

“Hux.”

“I know it’s not the most glamorous proposal ever, but…” Huxley grinned. “I want you, Chance Rossi. In my life, as my mate, for now and for always. This is me, down on my knees, begging you to marry me. I want to take you to Hawaii and have our wedding on the beach, and I want to spoil you and keep spoiling you till we’re old and gray and our kids are threatening to send us to a nursing home.” He laughed. “What do you say?”

No purer words had ever been spoken. I began to cry and thrust my left hand out. “You know the answer to this already, you jerk,” I blubbered. He rose to his feet and gently slid the golden band onto my ring finger. It sat warm against my cold skin and I wiped my damp face with the backs of both hands.

“Don’t cry!”

I threw my arms around his neck and held on tight. “God, I love you.”

“I love you, Chance. Now let’s go home and we’ll make it official.” His lips were warm against mine, his tongue skirting over the seam of my lips. With a soft whine, I let him in, let his taste invade my senses with each hungry swipe of his mouth against mine. A promise of what was to come—and I couldn’t wait. “Ready?”

I let out a shaky breath. “Yes.”

We drove home, our fingers laced together the entire way. When we pulled into the drive, Huxley gathered our bags and helped me out of the car. My heart skipped along at a happy pace. He brushed up against my side and palmed over my ass. I giggled. “Patience is a virtue,” I reminded him. “We are not making love in the snow, Hux.”

“You ain’t making love at all, slut,” came a raspy voice. Gasping, I twisted around just in time to see two large Betas come charging out of the shadows, one of them wielding a metal crowbar. Everything inside me came to a screeching halt as fear slammed my heart against the bars of its cage.

Bones.

“Chance! Go!” Huxley snarled and shoved me towards the house. I turned tail and bolted, dread knotting tight inside of me—and just like that, our perfect night was shattered into a thousand pieces.