Total pages in book: 122
Estimated words: 116031 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 580(@200wpm)___ 464(@250wpm)___ 387(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116031 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 580(@200wpm)___ 464(@250wpm)___ 387(@300wpm)
He does, two times, leaving me lying across our counter, arms wide, wishing the stone was still cold enough to cool my heated body. Leaning over me once more, he kisses my mouth and then bends down to pull his jeans up. His clothes didn’t fully come off before we were fucking like single people after drinks at the bar. We don’t have the freedom to christen every surface like we used to, but we just made up for it.
His gaze slides to my right. “What’s that?”
I know what he sees—the return address. The same envelope has plagued me for days. I never doubt our relationship, and I know when Shane said forever and eternity, he meant it. But what’s in the damn envelope? “It’s addressed to you, not me.”
He doesn’t bother with his shirt, leaving it where I tossed it, but he helps me to my feet and gives me a quick kiss, distracted by the envelope next to my head.
Ripping it open, he walks to the couch and sits down. It’s a few seconds, but man, it feels like hours.
“What is it?” I ask, pulling the T-shirt down over my hips.
His eyes find mine above the legal letter in his hands. “This is the condition you requested at the divorce proceedings.”
I pause at the counter, gripping the edge. “I forgot about that.”
“Obviously, they did too. Until now.” His eyes return to the letterhead of my attorney, the ones who originally typed it up to be kept on file at his lawyer’s office. Every word is seemingly scrutinized by how he studies it.
It was a simple request, but I’m not oblivious to how it would have affected us and changed the course of our relationship back then. That is, if we had not reunited. Thank God, we did. I say, “I couldn’t have predicted how things would turn out.”
Running his hand over his hair, he shakes his head and sighs. “No.” His eyes find mine, “How could we?” He glances at the letter once more, and asks, “Why didn’t you just ask me?”
“We weren’t together, so I thought you’d say no.”
“Have you met me? I could never say no to you, babe.” He stands, returning to me. “Legally, I’m required to do this since you completed the forty-eight hours.”
“You make it sound like a sentence that made me serve time.”
Slipping his arm around my waist, he pushes his hips against my middle. “You’re serving time, alright. A life sentence stuck with me.”
“That’s no punishment. That’s getting away with the crime.” I run my fingers over the growing bulge in his jeans. “What do you say? Are you going to grant me my request, or do I need to contact the attorneys?”
“Trust me, sweetheart, sex in my Ferrari isn’t a punishment. I’m just surprised we haven’t done it in there already.”
I giggle when he throws me over his shoulder and races toward the garage. And for the next two hours, he thoroughly defiles his most prized possession. And it wasn’t the Ferrari.
EPILOGUE 2
Shane
“Hey, babe?” I stop in the doorway when I find her on the bed with all the kids asleep around her. She holds a finger to her mouth. I walk to the bed and whisper, “You need help out?”
She laughs, but it’s quiet, making her shoulders rattle instead of hearing the beautiful sound. Reaching her hand out, she takes mine, and I lift her by the waist when she gets to her knees.
I don’t put her down. I hold her to me like we used to do all the time. Her legs come around my middle, arms around my neck. She drops her head to my shoulder as I carry her out of the room.
We don’t go far. The kids can’t be left unsupervised, but I’ve wanted to do this for so long that it seems now was a good time. Now or never.
“We wrapped the album,” I whisper, pressing her back to the wall just outside our bedroom.
“That’s amazing,” she murmurs against my lips. “I’m so proud of you.”
My pride for her extends well above what I could ever do for the family. Though she doesn’t see it this way. She believes this is her opportunity to give our kids what she never had in her own life. But I know what she gave up to be here for us—not just for the kids but also for me to chase my goals. So I’ll make sure her wildest dreams come true.
“I wanted to give you something.”
“Ooh, a gift?” She reaches below my belt. “Is it—”
“No,” I reply with a low chuckle. I’ve created a monster. Catching her hand, I want this to be about her, not me. I reach into my back pocket and pull out a piece of paper. “Here, this is for you.”
When I set her on her feet, she unfolds the paper. I didn’t expect a gasp or a glare. “Tell me you did not buy a yacht, Shane Faris.”