Five Weeks (Seven Series #3)

I looked down at him with a foolish grin, his brother between my legs, flanked by his pack who’d begun to close in on us. In front of everyone who mattered and others who didn’t, I told him what I’d been holding back for decades.

 

“Jericho Sexton Cole, I love you to pieces. I love the man you were, the man you’ve become, and most of all I love the way you love me.”

 

His shoulders sagged as if he’d been holding his breath. “Come down here.”

 

Wheeler set me down, and my stomach knotted when I saw that Jericho wasn’t smiling. He didn’t kiss me, twirl me, lift me into his arms, or do any of the silly romantic things that I thought might happen after giving him my declaration of love.

 

“Are you mad?” I asked.

 

His mouth formed a grim line, and he shook his head. “You bailed on me tonight during the first song.”

 

“Are you serious?” I said, my voice raising an octave. “I had to drive all the way home in hellacious traffic. I hit almost every red light, I almost hit a cat, and all so I could put on this shirt!” I said, tugging at the fabric. “Are you seriously upset that I didn’t hear you sing?”

 

“Yeah, I kind of am.” He stepped forward and tilted his head to the side. “I had plans.”

 

“Did I miss the striptease act?”

 

“Baby, there’s only one thing I want to take off for you.”

 

He reached beneath his shirt and lifted a long silver chain from his neck. My knees weakened when a smile tugged at his mouth and he fell to one knee, holding my left hand.

 

“Isabelle Marie Monroe, will you be my life mate?”

 

A ring slid on my left ring finger, and it sparkled like nothing I’d ever seen before—like a supernova. The chain still hung from it, and my hands trembled. Jericho’s cheeks flushed, beads of sweat appearing on his brow as he looked at me expectantly.

 

Nervously.

 

Uncertain.

 

“But we don’t do rings,” I protested.

 

“If your wolf loses it, I’ll buy you another, but that ring is going to sparkle on your pretty hand. So don’t be a stubborn wolf; give me your answer.”

 

I leaned down and cupped his cheeks, placing a soft kiss on his mouth. “Yes, sweetheart. I’ll be your mate, your friend, and maybe a pain in the ass, but I’m here for good. No more running unless it’s into your arms.”

 

Then his tongue entered my mouth. Heat slid down to my core, and our bodies married as he rose up and we fell into a lover’s kiss. A few claps erupted around us, and Austin patted his shoulder, walking off with Lexi. I loved that despite it all, his brother supported his decisions.

 

“I’m sorry I missed your show,” I whispered.

 

“That’s okay, baby. You get the encore.” Jericho smiled wide and snared my arm. “Let’s go. Time to do some consummating.”

 

I hopped on one foot with eagerness.

 

“What’s wrong with your leg?” He glanced down at my swollen, shoeless foot. I had left it somewhere in the parking lot between the street and fire hydrant.

 

Ignoring him, I touched the bear claw hanging from his neck. “What’s this?” Then my eyes roamed to the puncture marks on his left arm, and I pulled his shirt back, noticing more on his chest. “And what are these?” I exclaimed, horror sweeping over me.

 

“A souvenir. No one messes with my girl,” he said, stroking my soft hair with his dexterous fingers.

 

Then I knew. The man who tried to drown me must have been a Shifter. A bear. The one that was left on my car as an offering. Jericho had challenged him for my honor and had chosen not to heal all the way, as is custom. A Shifter who fought for his mate’s life wore his battle scars proudly.

 

I stroked my finger over the puncture wound closest to his tattoo and kissed it. “Jericho, you didn’t need to get me a ring. You’re my diamond. Strong, resilient, and one of a kind.” I traced my finger around the scar.

 

In a swift movement, he bent down and swept me off my feet. “Are you trying to win my heart?”

 

“So what if I am?”

 

“Baby, you already had me with the shirt. Hell, you had me the day we met in the rain when you told me to get lost.”

 

I laughed against his neck. “Well, you were a persistent pain in the ass. Not to mention you used a porn magazine to cover my head.”

 

He chuckled. “The centerfold made for extra coverage.”

 

“Are you really going to carry me out of here An Officer and a Gentleman style?”

 

He kissed my cheek and belted out a few words to the song at the top of his lungs. I slapped my hand over his mouth and laughed. “Don’t you dare embarrass me while sweeping me off my feet. You have an image to protect. You know—the badass image. Singing a sappy song from last century? No, sir.”

 

“I’m not going to lie to you, baby. I’m staying with the band. Austin’s offer to work in the shop isn’t what I’m about. This is who I am. Late nights, rehearsals, zoning out at dinner and scribbling lyrics on a napkin—that comes with the package. I’m sorry if I can’t wrap it up in a neat bow.”