Total pages in book: 145
Estimated words: 145231 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 726(@200wpm)___ 581(@250wpm)___ 484(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 145231 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 726(@200wpm)___ 581(@250wpm)___ 484(@300wpm)
That’s it, right there.
Everything I hoped for and more—what I was counting on her saying—but hearing it hits different. It’s like seeing a painting of a gorgeous sunset versus witnessing the real deal in person.
It turns out, loving someone else and telling them is the strongest drug known to man, and dangerously addictive.
Hearing it with the joy in her voice and the tears in her eyes isn’t enough.
I want to hear it forever.
I want to watch the shape of her lips as she speaks every syllable.
I want to whisper it back to her when I’m balls deep inside her, making her look at me before her body convulses.
What started as pure temptation has become a brute need like air and water. But first, there’s one more thing.
“Salem,” I growl, slipping a hand into my pocket and pulling out the small box I brought home. “Being away from you made me realize how much you mean to me. It also made me hate how much time we’ve wasted.”
Her hands flutter to her mouth as she stares down. “Is that—holy—are you serious? Right now?”
“If that’s a yes, I am.”
“Um. Oh my God. Okay. But I think you need to get down on one knee first,” she says breathlessly. She steps back, giving me space.
I don’t care that the grass is damp and it’ll probably stain my trousers.
A second later, I’m kneeling, popping open that little black box with my thumb.
The ring I picked is white gold with a sapphire stone, framed with diamonds because it reminds me of her. How she put the color back in my life, and all the money and people and magnetic moments will always be in her orbit, swirling around the true center.
“Salem Hopper,” I say, my voice too low. The ring was a spur-of-the-moment decision when I saw the jewelry shop in Nassau, and I’m pretty sure couples usually discuss this sort of thing in advance. If she’s not ready, I won’t blame her one bit, but I’m also not losing this chance to keep her.
Tonight, we’re all in.
“I love you,” I say. “I fell for you faster than I’d ever believe. I had it coming, even before I found out Arlo was mine. Fate reached down through years apart and shook me the fuck awake. So I want to do this family thing properly. I don’t want to wait. I want you as my wife. I want you where you belong—right by my side, forever.”
A painful moment passes.
Seconds feel like days, months, years.
Then she grins, wide enough to bring the sun out through the evening gloom.
“Yes,” she whispers, her eyes watering. Her bottom lip quivers. “Yes, of course I’ll marry you, Grumpybutt.”
Music to my ears.
I’m laughing like a madman as I slide the ring on her finger before she can change her mind. It looks like it was always meant to be there, hugging her finger like a promise forged from our worries and doubts, remade into something beautiful.
There’s a deep satisfaction in my chest, this greedy caveman thing, seeing her wearing my ring.
She’s mine.
She’s all fucking mine.
Inhaling roughly, I pull her into my arms.
“I might be many things, Lady Bug,” I tell her, my lips a whisper from hers, “but I’m no damn grumpybutt anymore.”
“You don’t kiss like one, I guess. Hard to argue with that,” she says, closing the distance.
Time stops cold as I claim her mouth, teasing what I mean to do to the rest of her later, the second we’re alone.
I don’t give a shit if my brothers are watching and jeering from the windows, or if Mom’s looking on with teary-eyed joy.
This is our moment and Salem Hopper finally belongs to me.
My wife.
My son’s mother.
My future, my fight, my lady since the day she was born.
My own personal lady luck, and the winning streak that’s coming will be one for the ages.
We kiss breathlessly, our hands pulling at our clothes high and low, until thunder rumbles overhead and we’re doused in a cool, sudden rain. It’s like the universe is urging us to get a room.
Sighing reluctantly, I break away and look up at the sky, then back at Salem. Her swollen lips, her big brown eyes, and the ring glinting on her finger that matches the gold flashing in her gaze.
“We should go tell your family the news,” she says.
“Maybe,” I admit, tugging her back to the house. “But there’s something else I’d rather do more.”
“Patton! What if someone’s watching, they’re probably waiting for—”
“Let them. I want to fuck you, Salem. I want to see that ring on your finger when you grab my cock. I want to feel it on my skin when you’re wrapped around me, begging for dear life.” I bring her in closer so I can rumble the last part in her ear. “And I want to feel it against my fingers when I’m pinning you down, telling you to come for me. Can you do that for me? Can you wear that pretty ring while I mark you tonight?”