He started to speak, but I put a finger to his lips as my gaze met his. “But then I met you.
“You’re the one and only thing I’m sure about. Everything else is just details. Because you’re it for me, Thatch. And I trust you with everything because I know you trust me back.”
I closed the distance between us. “I’m sorry for what I did. I’m sorry for jumping off that cliff. It was selfish and cruel, and I’m so sorry I hurt you like that. When you begged me not to do it, I should have known you weren’t trying to control me, you were just trying to keep me safe.” I reached up and touched his cheek.
He leaned into my touch and closed his eyes. “I should have gotten over it faster.”
I shook my head. “Will you forgive me?”
“Of course, I will, honey,” he whispered with his heart in his eyes.
“Will you still love me?”
Both of his hands cupped my cheeks. “I never stopped. And I’m sorry I told you like that.”
I inhaled a cavernous breath as relief coursed through my veins.
I wrapped my arms around his neck and stood on my tiptoes to press a soft kiss to his lips.
“I love you.”
His answering smile was blinding. He lifted me up, hands putting the softest pressure at the juncture of my ass and thighs, and wrapped my legs around his waist.
“I love you too, honey.”
“Enough to still marry me?” I asked against his lips.
He chuckled. “Are you asking me?”
I nodded. “Marry me, Thatcher.”
His eyes changed from playful to serious in the span of a heartbeat. “You’re really asking me?”
I pressed my forehead to his and locked our gazes. “Yes. Marry me. Make me the luckiest fucking girl on the planet.”
“You’re that sure about us, honey?”
I held up my left hand and showed him the engagement ring I now refused to take off. Funny how this afternoon I’d been one shake shy of cutting off my finger just to get it fucking gone.
“Yes. I’m that sure.”
He took my lips in a hot, deep, sexy kiss.
“Is that a yes?” I asked against his persistent mouth.
He shrugged, but a soft smile graced his lips. “Maybe.”
I leaned back and stared at him.
His goddamn smile grew, and I couldn’t stop my lips from mimicking his.
“You’re giving me a maybe? Leslie’s Instagramming about this right now. Hashtag CuntResponse.”
He winked.
That fucking wink.
This was a challenge. I could see it all over his face. He wasn’t content to let our relationship follow the normal path, and the more I thought about it, neither was I.
All we needed was a promise. Not some over-the-top proposal.
God-fucking-dammit, I loved him.
“I’m not taking this ring off.”
His response was immediate, demanding, and everything I never knew I needed it to be.
“Rule number seventy-five, never take that fucking ring off.”
The early morning sun filtered in through the floor-to-ceiling window of the living room as I padded back into the kitchen to pour a fresh cup of coffee. I stirred my favorite caramel creamer into my brew while I wiped the sleep out of my eyes.
It was early. Too goddamn early. But my internal clock had been off-kilter over the past few weeks. Lately, I’d been waking up before Thatch and Phil, which said a lot since our little piggy tended to rise and shine before roosters crowed.
The clock on the stove glowed 6:00 a.m. and I groaned.
This morning bird bullshit was annoying.
After a few sips from my mug, I fixed Thatcher a cup of coffee and headed back into our bedroom. My eyes took in the numerous photographs I’d hung up throughout the apartment over the past two months. Black-and-white landscapes and colorful cityscapes filled the hallway, and the picture Thatch had taken of the three of us in Central Park hung proudly over the mantel.
Thatch’s apartment was no longer just his place; it was our home now.
Sometimes, I still couldn’t believe it was real. Sometimes, it was difficult to process, that at one point in time, I had almost lost him. But we were real. We were an us. And we were forever. That much I was resolute on. Everything else was just minor details.
Yeah, that big motherfucker had won my heart. Loving Thatch had changed me. He was my best friend, and because of his love and friendship, he made me a better version of me.
I know, I know, that’s some real sappy bullshit, huh?
Well, Love is a real fucking bitch, and once she’s got you in her hold, consider yourself done for. Which is why I can honestly admit that I am officially a woman who is head over heels in love with a man who loves me for me. I know, I got real fucking lucky. I almost lost him because I had been stupid and selfish and stubborn. But I swear on Thatch’s Supercock that I’ll never make those mistakes again. The Jolly Green Giant is stuck with me and my crazy for life.
So, I’d like to thank you guys for not killing me off before our story got its happy ending.
And I’d also like to thank Love for being a bigger bitch than me.