Total pages in book: 45
Estimated words: 43198 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 216(@200wpm)___ 173(@250wpm)___ 144(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 43198 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 216(@200wpm)___ 173(@250wpm)___ 144(@300wpm)
“Good,” she whispers.
EPILOGUE
LINDSEY
It’s been a busy day. I’ve been setting up photo shoots. Miraculously, my business came back to life with the Davenports now behind bars. My contract with the school was renewed, so I’m doing school pictures next week. And now I'm on my way to meet Miller and Eli for the ballgame.
As soon as I pull in, I spot Eli running across the field toward his team. I’m gathering my bag when I hear a low whistle behind me.
Smiling, I turn. “Hey.”
Miller doesn’t say anything at first. He just closes the distance and backs me gently against my car. “Hey, you. I missed you today.”
Before I can respond, he kisses me.
It’s not soft or quick. It’s deep, a little desperate, like he really did miss me. The kiss is completely inappropriate for a ball field where families are, but I don’t protest. By the time he pulls back, we’re both a little breathless.
I blink up at him. “What was that for?”
He rests his forehead against mine. “I told you. I missed you.”
A woman walks by, calling out, “Hi, Miller!”
He doesn’t even glance her way, but I do. I watch her go, then hook my thumb over my shoulder. “Wow. Okay. I’m definitely going to have to get a ring on your finger so people know you’re taken.”
He rolls his eyes. “Trust me, everyone knows I’m engaged. I’ve told just about everyone there is to tell.”
He pauses, dragging a hand through his beard. “Except…” he mutters.
I narrow my eyes. “Except what? Miller…”
He sighs, already bracing himself, and pulls something from his back pocket. “Before you get mad…”
He hands it to me.
The second I see the cover, everything else disappears. It’s the magazine featuring the twenty entrepreneurs I took photos of.
“Oh my God.” My name is right there on the front, and I’m credited as the photographer. I flip through the pages quickly, excitement bubbling up, and I’m barely able to process it all. Seeing my pictures in a magazine. “This is—Miller, this is amazing—”
Then I turn the page and freeze. There’s a full spread.
A whole two freaking pages of my fiancé, and he looks hot. Not some stuffy billionaire. The man looks like sin. What was I thinking having him pose like this? Showing off his arms. His tattoos. His ARMS!
I stare at the headline. Whiskey Run’s Most Eligible Bachelor.
“Oh my God,” I repeat, slower this time.
There are multiple photos with different angles and poses. His shirt half unbuttoned, sleeves rolled, that same intense look on his face.
I know that look.
My stomach flips because he wasn’t looking at the camera. He was looking at me.
I drag my eyes back up to the headline and point at it. “Most. Eligible. Bachelor?”
Miller winces slightly. “Yeah… about that—”
I snap the magazine shut and look at him. “You’re engaged.”
“I know.”
“To me.”
“I’m aware.”
“And yet”—I hold the magazine up between us—“this exists.”
He exhales, stepping closer again, like he knows exactly how to handle me. “It was written before we got together. They didn’t change it before it went to print.”
I narrow my eyes. “Uh-huh.”
“But…” he starts. “I bought a front-page feature of the Whiskey Run and Jasper newspaper, and I offered an exclusive interview with the magazine for behind the scenes of our engagement photos.”
I shake my head. “But we don’t have engagement photos.”
He pulls me to him. “I know. It’s a good thing that I know this good photographer and we can get those done pretty quick.”
He takes a deep breath and lets it out. “I love you, Linds. Forever.” He points to the field. “Should we go? We don’t wanna miss it.”
I hold his hand. “Yeah, but stick close. I have a feeling that the claws are going to be out tonight.”
He laughs, clearly enjoying this. “I don’t know… I kind of like this possessive side of you. Didn’t peg you as the jealous type.”
I smack the magazine against his chest. “It’s my own fault. Have you actually looked at these pictures?”
His grin widens. “Once or twice.”
I narrow my eyes. “Miller, you practically radiate sex in these. Every woman who sees this is going to be thinking the exact same thing.”
He steps closer, backing me lightly against the car again, completely unfazed. “And what exactly are they thinking?”
I press the magazine between us, trying to hold my ground. “Things I’m not saying out loud at a little league field.”
He huffs out a laugh, leaning in until his mouth is just barely brushing mine. “Good thing I don’t care what they’re thinking.”
My breath catches despite myself. “Oh yeah?”
“Yeah,” he murmurs. “Because I only care about what you think.”
I challenge him with a look and lift my chin. “Well, I think we’re going to have to get married sooner rather than later.”
“Tomorrow soon enough?”
I gasp. “Tomorrow? I was… are you serious?”
He lifts my hand, turning it so the ring catches the light. “I’d marry you today,” he murmurs, “if we didn’t have somewhere to be.”