Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 102185 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 511(@200wpm)___ 409(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102185 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 511(@200wpm)___ 409(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)
Three months later . . .
This button is going to pop before it holds my boobs in properly. Damn, Savvy. She knew what she was doing when she ordered this Cardinals jersey for me. Griffin is going to love it, especially with his name on the back this time.
Waiting outside the gate for the players to come out of the locker room with all the other baseball bunnies isn’t my idea of a good time. I heard cleat chasers once. I don’t know the official term, but I do know they’re looking to score. I’m looking to . . . okay, fine. Maybe we’re not so different. At least I’m guaranteed a good time with the man I’m madly in love with and with whom I share a kid.
The guards open the gate to let a few players into the parking lot. With bodyguards keeping a path clear for them, some load onto a bus, and others have rides waiting for them. I turn back when I hear a scream, with Griffin shouting in the middle of it. Two players part, and I see him, my sexy and oh, so handsome man. I join in with the others because I’m bursting at the seams and excited to reunite with him. It’s been a few weeks since he hit the road to travel with the team, and I was back working and spending my time with Jacob in Dover Creek. We watch the games with his family, and sometimes at his dad’s house. I work on the puzzle that he started and never finished, saving the last piece for him to complete when he gets back.
Since everyone else is calling his name, I cup the side of my mouth, and call, “Hey, Twenty-Two.”
He looks up, the tension knitted between his eyebrows releasing when he sees me. His cocky grin goes rogue and weakens my knees. As soon as he passes through the gates, he reaches for me. Our fingertips touch, but another bunny shoots her shot and grabs his hand. Griffin frees himself from her clutches, then tells a guard to help me.
It happens fast. They surround me and move me through with their large bodies, covering me. I’m released into his arms, his eyes that are bluer than summer Texas skies, and his lips pressing to mine before he whispers, “Little Chirp.”
We’re maneuvered in front of the bus, where he takes me to a lineup of cabs waiting for a fare. Before we get in one, he kisses me again. “What are you doing here?”
“I missed you.”
This time, his smile is so sincere that it makes my heart ache from its absence lately. He says, “I missed you, too.” His eyes dip to my chest, and all sincerity is replaced by hunger. Licking his lips, he tugs me tightly into his arms. “Damn, you look good.”
“I wore it for you. Has your name on the back and everything.”
He cups my face and kisses me again as if he doesn’t want the moment to pass us by. “I’ve been thinking about that.”
“What about?”
“How do you feel about it being your name as well?” Everything stops—my heartbeat, my breath, my thoughts, my body, the world on its axis. “This isn’t romantic, babe. It just comes from the heart. I love you and want to marry you. I want to be your husband and you be my wife. Wake up together when I’m home and go to bed together at night.” He runs his hand through his hair and sighs. “I could have done this better—”
“I’ll marry you.”
As if I hadn’t said anything at all, he says, “I’ll make it up to you and ask for your hand in mar—”
“I’ll marry you, Griffin.”
“Wait, you will?” Disbelief is overcome by elation. “You’ll marry me? For real?”
“For real. I want to marry you.” I lift to my toes and kiss him to seal the deal because he said it. He put it out into the universe. I’m no fool. I know a great thing when I see it. Even more when I kiss it like I’m kissing him now.
EPILOGUE 1
Cricket
Two months later . . .
Griffin puts the piece in place, then stands over the puzzle, gazing down with a grin on his face. It wasn’t a huge puzzle or anything like that. I think he just remembers putting it together with his mother. Looking over at me sitting at the table in his dad’s kitchen, he says, “That is so satisfying.”
I laugh. My guy’s a puzzler, what can I say? “I ordered some puzzles for the wine shop. They can spend a few hours drinking wine and putting puzzles together, or purchase them to take home. Surely, you can’t be the only one so into them.”
He crosses the room, stops in front of me, and pats his thigh. I place my shoe against his leg. He starts trying to fasten the tiny buckle on the ankle strap of my shoe since I had no luck. “When does the tasting room open?”