Total pages in book: 37
Estimated words: 33401 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 167(@200wpm)___ 134(@250wpm)___ 111(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 33401 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 167(@200wpm)___ 134(@250wpm)___ 111(@300wpm)
It's scary, knowing that what we have might be taken from us by a person I never thought would be a problem. But I'm not going to let that ruin what we have.
When I reach the midpoint of the trail, the breathtaking overlook where Porter and I had our first date, I sit down to take a breather and a long drink of water. The view is spectacular, the mountains rolling green and gold in the distance, the blue sky brightening from navy blue to a deep purple, dotted with light clouds.
Then, like I summoned him with my wandering thoughts, I hear the sound of someone coming up the trail behind me. I would be scared, but the sound of his footsteps is so familiar now that I don't even need to look to see who it is. Porter.
"Beautiful sunrise," he says quietly.
When I turn, Porter is standing there, his hands in his pockets. He's dressed in workout clothes, highlighting his muscular physique, the sunrise kissing his bronze skin. But it's the look on his face that makes my heart skip a beat. He doesn't look mad or even disappointed. He looks...relieved.
"How did you know?" I ask.
Porter's lips twitch. "Tracker on the car. Just a precaution." His shoulders tense and then relax. "When I saw you weren't home, I thought for sure that you had run away. But I checked and saw that you'd come here of all places." His eyes are warm. "It gave me hope."
"Porter…" My voice cracks. "Porter, I didn't leave. I'm here."
He takes a step forward, his amber eyes searching mine. "You're here. Thank God. Because otherwise, I would have torn the city apart looking for you."
I can see that. Porter is protective and possessive. Not in a smothering way, but in a way that makes me feel loved and treasured and safe. He'll do anything for me, anything except let Ian come between us.
"I was scared, Porter," I whisper, staring into the sunrise. "I was scared Ian would come between us.”
Porter makes a noise, low in his throat, and moves to my side, dropping down onto the rock I'm sitting on. He tilts my chin up, searching my face. "That's not going to happen. Bailey, listen to me. I—"
"I love you." We both say it at the same time, Porter's voice soft and serious and mine choked up and full of tears. We stare at each other for a second, and then Porter drags me onto his lap. I'm straddling him, my arms around his neck, and his hands grip my hips, fingers digging into my hips.
"You are mine, Bailey. Forever," Porter growls, burying his face in my hair. "And I'm so fucking glad that you feel the same because otherwise this would be embarrassing."
Confused, I lean back to see his face better. "What?"
Porter digs his hands into his pockets, pulling out a black velvet jewelry box. He opens the lid, and inside is a ring—a huge princess-cut diamond, with a silver band studded with smaller diamonds. I gasp, covering my mouth with one hand.
"Bailey…" Porter's voice is rough and tender at the same time. "I love you. More than I can possibly say. Please, will you marry me?"
My heart bursts. It's everything I've dreamed of and more. I can't hold back the tears any longer, and they leak out of my eyes. Porter is instantly concerned. "Bailey?"
"Yes," I blurt out. "Yes, yes, yes."
Porter lets out a shaky breath, sliding the ring onto my finger. It fits perfectly. "Thank fucking God."
He kisses me just as the sun breaks the horizon, and it bathes us in golds and pinks and burnt oranges as we share our first kiss as an engaged couple.
It's perfect. But then again, everything with Porter Brooks always is.
EPILOGUE
PORTER
One and a Half Years Later
I meant it to be a babymoon, a little trip to pamper my wife, but our little son decided to come kicking and screaming into the world two weeks early. So now it's the three of us, lounging on the couch on our hotel terrace, looking out at the ocean. Together. A family.
Bailey is dozing, her golden blond hair falling over my chest where she has her head on my shoulder, the sunlight dancing off her skin. She's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen.
And our son is a close second.
He's a few weeks old now and just as perfect as his mom. Dark hair, amber eyes, and an already strong personality. He's sleeping peacefully in his bassinet, one tiny hand curled into a fist. I'm not sure how long that will last, but I'm grateful for the peace while we have it.
Bailey and I were married four months ago, a small ceremony with only her mom, siblings, Renae, and my few family members. It was perfect. Ian didn't even bother to show.