I did.
He knelt down in front of me—and my heart flew away.
I couldn’t breathe. “Max?” Only it came out as a wheeze.
He gazed at me with tremulous eyes, his face as serious as I’d ever seen it.
“I asked you to marry me here, and it nearly messed everything up. I used a fake ring that my best friend picked out.”
I swallowed.
He eased the engagement ring he’d given me off my finger, slipping it in his pocket.
He pulled a small black box from his other pocket. “But this . . . this is a ring that I picked out yesterday. I searched every jewelry store until I found the perfect one. The idea that you might be pregnant had nothing to do with me buying it. Maybe that was another reason I didn’t ask you about that test strip. I wanted this moment to be about us—nothing else.” He paused. Our eyes locked. “I love you, Sunny Blaine, and I want you to marry me. For real.” He opened the box, revealing a heart-shaped diamond ring.
I gasped. It was huge. It was beautiful. It was mine.
With sure hands, he slid it on my finger and looked up at me. “For the rest of my life, I want you. Forever.”
The butterflies in my stomach went crazy. I nodded. “Yes, yes, yes.”
He pulled me to my feet and kissed me under the lights of a quiet stadium.
There was no Jumbotron. No cheering fans. Just us.
It was everything.
He was everything.
We were everything.
Two Years Later . . .
MAX JUMPED IN OUR KING-SIZED bed like it was a trampoline and stuck his cold feet against my naked back. I yelped, smacked him on the arm, and wiggled away from him. “Stop it, Quarterback! I haven’t had coffee yet.”
“I haven’t had you yet,” he growled and turned me over to my back, tickling my ribs as he rubbed scruff down my chest, kissing and nuzzling my stomach.
I laughed at his antics, which turned passionate as he went lower, his mouth finding the curve of my knee, the sensitive area on my hipbone. He ran his fingers around my back, idly tracing the lines of one of my scars. He paid special attention to them.
“I’ve never been this happy,” he murmured against my neck.
Deep contentment coursed through me. “I know. Me too.”
I thought back over the past two years. He’d won the Heisman and a National Championship. Then, we’d gone to New York for the draft where he’d been the number one pick for the New York Giants. I took a second to gaze out of our high-rise window overlooking the Manhattan skyline. With his signing bonus and a monetary gift from his dad, we were living in an upscale area with tree-lined streets and adorable coffee places.
After graduation, we’d gotten married in Atlanta. It had been a relatively small affair with our closest friends and family. Isabella had been my bridesmaid, and I’d worn the fishtale dress I’d tried on.
Now, I worked part-time at a dress shop that made up-cycled clothing. One day I wanted my own boutique, but for now, I was enjoying being with Max.
Life was perfect.
As far as Felix went, he hadn’t been picked up in the draft.
Oh, how Max had loved that.
When it came down to it, Felix didn’t have the talent. We’d heard he was a used car salesman in Florida. After much discussion, Max and I had mutually decided to put him behind us and let the past go.
We didn’t spend time thinking about him.
We had too many good and real things to focus on.
He kissed me again. “You’ve got that dreamy look on your face. Whatcha thinking about?”
“You.”
He grinned. “I am pretty damn dreamy.”
I poked him in the ribs and he collapsed against me, his naked body gliding against mine. The air thickened around us, heat building. It never took much for us to be hot for each other.
He touched me, his hand coasting down between my legs and dipping inside. He kissed me, soft and then hard, his tongue sucking on mine.
My need ramped up. I cupped his ass, pulling him in closer, wet and ready. “Hurry,” I murmured.
Lifting my leg over his shoulder, he said my name with reverence and slid inside.
I arched, my body accepting all of him.
“I love you so much,” he ground out as he made me his.
I kissed him.
Our lives were just beginning.
Max . . . us . . . Fate had divined our love.
Since the night we’d met on that shore, an invisible thread connected us.
I didn’t understand the hows and whys of our meeting, but life isn’t nearly as complicated as we make it.
Sometimes there really is a bigger plan.
Sometimes there really is that one person.
Sometimes true love finds you no matter what.
The End
Turn the page to enjoy the first two chapters of Dirty English, a Wall Street Journal Bestseller
PROLOGUE
A stabbing pain in my temple.
Fat and swollen lips.
A throbbing tenderness between my thighs.
Why did I feel like I was dying?