Total pages in book: 127
Estimated words: 121460 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 607(@200wpm)___ 486(@250wpm)___ 405(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121460 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 607(@200wpm)___ 486(@250wpm)___ 405(@300wpm)
She laughed through her tears and nodded frantically. “Yes, I’ll marry you, Brodan.”
Even though I’d been pretty certain of her answer, I laughed with pure joy and slipped the ring on her finger. It winked in the candlelight, and she shook her head, marveling at it. “It’s so beautiful.”
“You’re so beautiful.” I cradled her face in my palms and drew her in for a deep kiss. She melted into me, winding her arms around my neck, and I felt her baby bump rest against my stomach. I kissed her like there was no tomorrow until she broke the kiss, panting for breath. Resting her forehead to mine, she whispered against my lips, “I have loved you every minute, every second of my life too. There has been no one else. Only you.”
I closed my eyes, feeling the magical pleasure pain of those words. So much time lost. So much time to make up for. But we’d do it.
“I can’t wait to make you my wife.” I settled onto the blanket, pulling her over my lap. “For us to begin our lives together.”
“We already have,” Monroe assured me, taking a hand to rest it on her belly. “And we deserve this, handsome. After everything we’ve been through to get here.”
She wasn’t just speaking of the eighteen years we’d spent apart, but of the night Ian Moffat attacked us. It had taken weeks for Monroe to find sleep easily, and I knew guilt rode her. But my constant assurances that she’d not only protected us but the life of our unborn child eventually seemed to sink in, and she was on the path to forgiving herself.
No charges were brought against Monroe as it was cut-and-dry self-defense. Moreover, they found Vanessa’s father’s body, which confirmed everything we’d told the police. Moffat had murdered the man horrifically, and while I wished no one ever had to meet such an end, I couldn’t feel too sorry for Mr. Woodridge. He’d traumatized a bunch of college students, and I feared, from what Ian told us, that he’d done much worse to Vanessa over the years.
It was a tragedy I would never forget. However, it was a tragedy I was determined to move on from for the sake of my family.
We’d decided to move on together. And that included from Monroe’s parents too. We’d driven south to Dumfries and Galloway, where we not only found Monroe’s father’s grave, but the woman he’d spent the rest of his life with. Her name was Isabelle, and she’d paid for Roe’s dad’s funeral. She’d also told Roe that he’d tried to get in touch with her while he was dying of cancer. That he wanted to apologize for his abuse and abandonment. It wasn’t everything, but I knew it gave Monroe some peace to know her father was sorry. And while we stood at his grave, I held her while she cried and offered him a forgiveness I’m not sure many other people would.
As for Monroe’s mother, she was recovering from her hip replacement and we’d spotted her out in the village with her cane. She ignored us, and Monroe knew from Belle that Mrs. Sinclair was aware of Roe’s pregnancy. She didn’t reach out. But Roe had already decided she didn’t want our child around someone as toxic as her mother. Their relationship was over, and while it was heartbreaking to see mother and daughter brought to such a place, I couldn’t help but feel relieved she was out of our lives. I blamed her for the eighteen years we’d spent apart as much as I blamed myself. But mostly, I blamed her for not loving her daughter the way she deserved to be loved.
So that was done.
Roe had a new family now, and we were determined to fill her life with so much love, she’d forget she’d ever been alone.
“Want cake?” I asked, reaching for the tray of petit fours.
“Sloane?” Roe literally rubbed her palms together in excitement, her engagement ring sparkling. Lust hit me hard, and I felt myself thicken beneath her arse.
Roe side-eyed me. “I thought I was the only one turned on by cake right now.”
“It’s not the cake,” I answered gruffly, holding the tray to her. “It’s that ring on your finger.”
Understanding dawned, and she grinned as she picked up a cake and commented, “You are such a caveman,” before popping it into her mouth.
I watched her eat, having to agree. My possessiveness over this woman was something I curbed and controlled on a daily basis. I never wanted to treat her like I owned her, but I couldn’t deny that she felt so intrinsically a part of me, I definitely saw her as mine. And I was hers.
She raised an eyebrow, feeling me grow harder. Wicked mischief gleamed in her eyes. “Do you need me?”