Before I can say anything, Gaige has the box in his hand and he's down on one knee in front of me. Tears stream down my face as he opens it. "I loved you before I knew what it even meant to love someone," he says. "I want you, forever. Marry me."
I'm saying yes over and over, and Gaige laughs as I pull him to his feet to kiss him. "Those are good tears, right?"
"Yes, yes, yes," I say. "They're very good tears." Then I'm laughing hysterically, and Gaige is looking at me like I'm crazy.
"What did I say?" he asks.
I shake my head. "It's the hormones," I say. "I'm a mess. I was about to tell you in the car, but you had all of – this planned and –"
"Tell me what?" he asks.
I open my purse and hand him my own eggshell blue box, watching his brow furrow. "Here," I say. "Open it."
"You got me a ring, too?" he asks.
"No," I say. "Just open it up."
He slides off the lid and holds the tiny spoon in his hand. "A silver spoon?"
"They didn't have any rattles," I say.
I watch as his expression changes and a look of realization passes over his face. "Really?"
"Really."
"You're fucking serious," he says. "You're pregnant?"
I nod. "You're happy?" I ask. "I can't tell. Are you happy?"
He scoops me up in his arms, spinning me around until I'm dizzy, before he puts me back down. "Are you kidding?" he asks. "I can't believe you're even asking me that. Am I happy? We're going to have a baby? I'm going to be a father? I'm going to be a dad!"
He yells, and one of the housekeepers pokes her head into the sunroom. "Is everything okay?"
Gaige walks over to her and hugs her, spinning her around before he kisses her cheek. "I'm going to be a dad, Marta!"
Then Gaige bounces back to me. I don't think I've ever seen him so crazy-happy. I didn't think Gaige got crazy-happy.
Gaige kisses me full on the mouth. "I love you, you know."
There are few things in life I know with certainty, but that much, I definitely know.
THE END
Continue on for the last novel in this collection, Cannon, which has an added bonus epilogue!
CANNON
Sabrina Paige
Hendrix "Cannon" Cole is a major prick. That’s prick with a capital P.
He's nicknamed "Cannon" because of the weapon between his legs.
He's damaged, dirty, and demanding. A sexy-as-hell ex-Marine.
My stepbrother.
I used to hate him. Then I loved him. Then I hated him again.
Our history is complicated. But my family thinks he's the perfect solution to my problem. A scandal has thrown me into the limelight, and I'll be screwed if I don't stay on the straight and narrow. Now, Hendrix's new job is making sure I behave.
What I didn't count on was being stuck spending every waking moment with him.
The heat between us is explosive. But if he fires that cannon, we'll both get burned.
DEDICATION
For my husband and my daughter, who put up with me writing all the time, and only complain about it part of the time.
For the other writers and so many readers who have supported me so much and spread word along the way about my work. There are too many of you to thank, and I owe you a debt of gratitude.
CANNON TABLE OF CONTENTS
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Bonus Epilogue
Mailing List
Other Books
Contact Me
About the Author
CHAPTER ONE
ADDY
"What is this, an intervention?" I look back and forth between their faces, the four of them lined up on the opposite side of the conference table like jury members about to render their verdict. I'm kidding about the intervention part, but the joke falls flat and for a brief second, I think it might actually be true. But it can't be. I rarely drink, and I've never even tried drugs – I mean, sure, a couple of drags on a joint years ago, but that hardly counts -- so there's no way this can be an actual intervention, right? "I don't understand."
My mother looks at me through narrowed eyes, her palm on my stepfather's arm. "There's a morality clause in your contract, Addison," she says, her jaw clenched and her voice tight.