Total pages in book: 30
Estimated words: 27290 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 136(@200wpm)___ 109(@250wpm)___ 91(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27290 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 136(@200wpm)___ 109(@250wpm)___ 91(@300wpm)
“Brady?” Talia gasped, her blue eyes shimmering when she saw what was in my hand.
“I love you more than life, baby,” I told her softly. “And I don’t have words for how damn happy it makes me that we are having a baby. But I need one more thing before I can be completely happy.” I opened the box and plucked a three-carat diamond ring from the velvet bed, then slid it onto her left ring finger. “Tying you to me permanently and giving you my last name.”
“I love you, too,” Talia whispered, tears cascading down her cheeks. “I can’t wait to be your wife.”
“Great.” I grinned and scooped her into my arms before stalking into the bathroom and over to the shower. “Let’s get cleaned up, then I’ll make a call while you get ready.”
“A call?” she asked, her tone colored with confusion.
“Yeah. Dempsey knows a judge, and I’m pretty sure he’d fit us in today if I asked.”
“A judge?” Talia blanched. “You want to get married today?”
“Yup. Now get your sexy ass in the shower.”
“But—”
I paused and cradled her face in my palms. “I promise, you can plan the wedding of your dreams. But I’m not waiting to make you my wife. I want everyone to know you’re mine, and I’m not leaving any wiggle room in this relationship. I’m gonna tie you to me in every fucking way possible.”
Talia’s lips curved up, and her blue eyes melted. “Okay. But only because I want everyone to know you’re taken too. Forever.”
I grinned and planted a solid kiss on her lips. “It’s fucking hot when you get possessive over me.”
Talia raised an eyebrow. “How hot?”
An hour later, I’d given her a thorough demonstration before I dragged her sweet ass to the courthouse and made her my wife.
EPILOGUE
TALIA
“And it will be my honor to retire as a Nighthawk at the end of the current season.”
I stood off to the side with Brady, where no reporters could see us. He’d given me a heads-up that Prentice’s announcement was coming, but I still felt a surge of adrenaline when I heard the actual words coming out of his mouth. And I wasn’t the only one judging by the feeding frenzy of questions it spurred in the reporters.
When the fervor finally died down—after Prentice answered what felt like a million questions about what was next for him—he called an end to the press conference. Then he and Naomi left the platform and moved toward us.
Prentice paused to clap my husband on the back. “You’re next, man.”
“Not today. Which is good because I fucking hate giving press interviews,” Brady grumbled.
Prentice laughed and shook his head. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”
“You’re not done yet, old man,” Brady teased with a grin. “You just told them all that you plan to keep playing until February because you need another ring before you’re done.”
“As if you don’t want another, too.”
“We all do, and you’re going to lead us to this one.”
Naomi and I shook our heads at their back-and-forth banter, but the moment was interrupted when Barbara—one of the team’s press liaisons—called for Brady. Wrapping his fingers around my wrist, he tugged me along with him.
Most reporters hadn’t left yet, and one noticed us and called, “Is Brady here because you’ve already picked him to be Prentice’s replacement?”
The coach sent Barbara an exasperated look before climbing up the steps to lean close to one of the microphones lining the table. “You just heard Wright say he’s playing through the rest of the season and plans to win another championship. Isn’t that enough of a story for you?”
The reporter shrugged, looking not even the slightest bit bothered about being chided by the coach. “It’s a great one, but confirming that Summers will start next season would make the story even better.”
“Well, you’re just going to have to be satisfied with what you’ve already got because the press conference is over.” The reporter’s lips parted, but he didn’t give the guy a chance to say anything else as he shooed with his hands toward the door. “You heard me. Anyone still here in two minutes risks getting their press pass pulled.”
His threat got the reporters moving, and I pressed my lips together to keep from laughing at how quickly they headed out.
Brady’s coach waited until the room emptied and the door shut behind the last reporter to say, “As pissed as I am that they thought I was going to steal Wright’s thunder with an announcement like that, you have to know it’s true.”
Brady’s hand gripped my waist hard enough to leave a mark, but that was the only visible sign of his reaction to the confirmation of what we’d talked about last night when he’d told me that Prentice was going to announce his retirement after today’s game. He thought the odds were good that he’d step into the starting position since he’d been doing it each time Prentice couldn’t play since we met, but there were no guarantees the coaching staff would see it the same way when the other backup quarterback was younger and had more playing years ahead of him.