Total pages in book: 17
Estimated words: 16136 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 81(@200wpm)___ 65(@250wpm)___ 54(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 16136 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 81(@200wpm)___ 65(@250wpm)___ 54(@300wpm)
I duck to one side, feint with a jab, then throw everything I have into a wild, powerful overhand right. It’s a risk. He could slide out of range, cut an angle, find my jaw.
But I refuse to lose when he crossed a line no man gets to cross, ever. Disrespecting my woman.
My fist connects, and sounds like a gunshot.
He flies back against the cage, his eyes rolling in his head as he slides down the cage. He looks up without seeing me, showing me the whites in his eyes, his body twitching.
The referee flies between us, waving his hands in the air, as the arena goes insane, people on their feet, beer flying in the air, the commentators struggling to be heard as they yell over the chaos.
I leap the cage with ease, walking through the crowd, a shirtless savage amidst these civilized people. Lila rushes to me, her chest rising and falling, a flush creeping over her neck and face. Red and young and perfect and mine.
“Boone.” She claws onto arms. “That was …”
“For you,” I snarl. “For you, my sweet Snapshot.”
“I love you,” she gasps, throwing her arms around me. “Oh, God. I love you. I don’t care how quickly it happened. I don’t care what people might say. I love you.”
“I love you too, Snapshot. And let people talk. I think our love means more because it hit us hard and fast.”
“That’s so romantic,” she murmurs, her voice breaking.
“See?” I smirk. “I’m not a complete savage.”
Her laugh turns into a contented moan when I push my lips against hers. She slides her hand over my back, sinking deeper into the kiss, into the spell of us, as forty thousand people cheer and clap like their lives depended on it.
“What are you doing?” she murmurs when I step away.
I look around until I spot him. Evan. He nods and rushes over, handing me a small package.
“What’s that?” my angel asks.
“It’s full of things I never believed in before,” I tell her passionately. “Destiny, love at first sight, bone-deep belonging. It’s full of the future, Lila. I don’t want you to be scared. I want you to trust your … “Soul.”
She blinks, tears in her eyes. “Boone.”
I take out a ring box from the package. Suddenly, the arena goes quiet. I don’t have to look up to know they’re showing us on the big screen.
“Lila, you’re everything to me,” I tell her. “The weeks we spent apart were agony. I love you—and I’ve loved you since the first time I laid eyes on you. You hit me like a lightning strike. Like, for the first time, I might be able to hope. Lila, I love you. Lila …”
“Boone.” She sobs, touching my cheek as if checking for tears. I’m close.
“Lila Mayfield.”
I lower myself to one knee, causing her to gasp and cover her mouth with her hands. The arena draws in a collective breath.
I open the ring box, showing a full diamond set within a white-gold band. The diamond has small cameras carved each side of it, elegant and tasteful.
“Will you marry me?”
For a beat, I think she might say no. She stares at me with manic eyes, wide, electrified with our closeness, with the wild ride we’re on.
Finally, she puts me out of my misery. “Yes!” she yells. “Oh my God, yes!”
I slide the ring onto her finger, leap to my feet, and pull her into my arms.
The arena erupts; everybody cheers and stares at kiss-cam on the huge screens as I hug and kiss the love of my life. Well aware … I’m the luckiest man alive.
EPILOGUE
Lila
Six Months Later
Iwalk around the lodge, warmth blooming in my belly, as I spread my hands over the front of my dress and try not to let nerves win.
He’ll be happy. Why am I being so weird?
The Montana day burns brightly, the sun cresting the mountains and painting the pines golden. I stand at our front window, looking out at the shimmering lake. Boone has properties all over—he tells me they belong to us both now—but this is my favorite.
I turn, looking at the canvas with a bed sheet covering it. I brought the canvas exactly for this purpose, but I forgot to buy a special sheet. Hopefully he thinks this one is okay.
Going to the counter, I take my cup of hot cocoa and blow on it. I don’t care what season it is or how warm it is. Hot cocoa in the Montana mountains always hits just right.
When I hear his car, I return to the front window, taking a moment, taking a breath. He steps from his truck, spattered with mud. He’s wearing a check shirt and torn jeans, every inch the savage, every inch the beautiful strong man I married.
His beard is fuller, the deep silver winking at me as sun bounces off it. I go to the front door, swallowing a ball of nerves.