Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 86367 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 432(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86367 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 432(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
“I’m going to spend the rest of my life making it up to you,” I vow to her right before I kiss her lips softly. I haven’t touched her in a month, so the soft kiss I want to give her quickly turns into serious tongue.
Her hands move from my chest up to my neck, and she slides one into the back of my hair. “Forever.” I let go of her lips for a second, only to consume her again. “For the rest of my life.” I pick her up, and she wraps her legs around my waist. “I will show you how much I love you.” I walk toward the steps, her arms going around my neck. “I will never ever let you go again, Ryleigh.”
She stops moving when I say her name, her arms dropping from around my neck as I stop at the top of the landing. “What did you just call me?” I look into her eyes. “Did you just use my name?” She shakes her head.
“Gorgeous,” I say gently, and her face goes soft.
“Say it again.” She wraps her arms around my neck tighter, burying her face in the crook of my neck. “Say it again and again.”
“Gorgeous,” I repeat, heading down the hall to the primary bedroom. “Gorgeous.” I squeeze her tighter. “Gorgeous.” I walk over toward the bed, turning to sit on the edge. “Gorgeous.”
“Yes,” she mumbles from my neck.
“I love you,” I say softly as she unwraps her arms, “so much more than I can say.”
“Do you now?” She tries to hide the smile on her face. “Well, it took you long enough.”
I throw my head back and laugh as she leans in and kisses my neck. “You know what else is taking you too long?” she asks. “Getting me naked.” I smirk at her. “I thought you missed me.”
“More than you will ever know.” I pull her shirt up, and her arms go in the air as I peel it off her and toss it to the side. Her hands lunge for my shirt, balling it in her fists as she pushes it over my head.
“What the…?” Her eyes fly to the black ink under my left pec, where my heart goes toward my ribs. “What is this?” Her fingers slowly trace it.
“It’s the coordinates of the first time I kissed you and fell for you,” I tell her. “I’m going to put our wedding day under there, and then every time we have kids.” Her eyes fly up to mine.
“You were serious,” she says, “about the whole wedding thing.”
“Why would you think I was joking?” I put my hands on her hips. “I wasn’t joking, just like I’m not joking when I say we’re going to Chicago tomorrow and clearing out your place.” Her mouth hangs down. “And then you’re going to move in with me.”
“Just like that?” she asks.
“Just like that,” I state. “I don’t know if you are aware, but you were made for me.”
epilogue one
RYLEIGH
Two Months Later
“It’s so bright outside,” I hiss as I put my black sunglasses on. “Why is it so bright?” My head throbs as we walk out of the lobby and toward the path that leads to the beach.
“Because it’s the sun,” Stone deadpans beside me, trying not to cackle.
“It’s so hot,” I moan as we walk toward the pool. “Why is it so hot?”
“Gorgeous, it’s almost three p.m.” His thumb rubs my thumb. “Peak hours in the sun.”
“It’s so hot,” I huff as we walk past the empty pool. “Where is everyone?”
“They are having a beach party today,” Stone explains, and then I hear the music.
“Why is it so loud?” I ask, and he laughs.
“Well, apparently, yesterday you, Zoey, and Gabriella told my uncle Matthew his beach was lame.”
I stop mid step and turn toward him. “What?” I put my hand to my mouth.
“Not only was it lame but it was boring with a capital B,” Stone continues.
“I told you not to let me drink,” I hiss and hear screaming and cheering.
“Yes, yes, you did. Then you told me you’re a grown woman who can make her own choices, and just because you live with me doesn’t mean I control your life.”
I close my eyes because I might have said that.
“Well, I am.” I avoid prolonging this conversation because, well, tequila, rum, sun, and all that sugar—it’s no wonder I got drunk.
“Oh, trust me, I know,” he goads as he walks behind me a step. “You made sure you told your father to tell me that I’m not the boss of you.”
I look over my shoulder. “You’re not.” We walk through the shaded trees that lead to the beach, and when we finally walk out, I stop in my tracks. It’s like a party on the beach. There are couches and beach beds everywhere. Wood poles holding white tarps block the sun and give you shade. A DJ on an elevated stage busts out tunes while people are dancing and lounging. People are scattered everywhere, which isn’t surprising since it took three planes to get us all here.