Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 127991 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 640(@200wpm)___ 512(@250wpm)___ 427(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 127991 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 640(@200wpm)___ 512(@250wpm)___ 427(@300wpm)
“I repeat,” he said breathily, looking between me and Chris. “What. The. Fuck.”
Chris put up both hands and backed away. “I think that’s my cue to go help pack up.”
After he walked away, I leaned in and pressed a tender kiss to Reagan’s cheek. “You’re mine,” I told him softly. “And I need you to know I’m not keeping you a secret. Ever.”
Reagan’s body deflated like the weight of the world fell off of him. “Really? But… Thatcher, you hate people knowing your private business.”
“You’re not my private business. You’re my partner. You’re important. We’re going to be seen together in public and at work. Word will get out because I don’t plan to keep my hands off you if I can help it. Assuming that’s okay with you.”
He nodded. A shy smile quirked the corners of his mouth. “Yeah. It’s definitely okay with me.”
“And baby, next time you’re worried about something, talk to me. I know it’s early days and we’re still figuring each other out, but you need to come to me when you have concerns. Check in with me and tell me how you’re feeling.”
“I was going to,” he insisted. “After things calmed down at PennCo, and Brant was settled, and—”
“And nothing. You are my priority,” I told him. “First place, always. And I’ll remind you as often as I need to until you really believe it.”
Reagan’s smile spread until it creased his face. “I’ll remember,” he promised.
His pocket began to vibrate with the familiar buzz of his phone, and when he took it out, his eyes widened at whatever he saw on the screen.
“Everything okay?” I asked.
“My parents heard about my promotion,” he said. He lifted his gaze to mine. “My mother wonders if this means I was serious about quitting the campaign and staying in New York.”
I wasn’t sure which of us began laughing first, but I knew that even after it subsided, neither of us could stop smiling.
Chris came over and took his leave with a handshake for each of us. “Thank you again for the interview, Thatcher. And good luck to both of you. Stay in touch.”
I watched him follow his crew to the door, but before he could leave, McGee grabbed his elbow and yanked him into a nearby bedroom before slamming the door closed.
Reagan and I stared at the closed door. “What was that?” Reagan murmured. “Do you think McGee still blames Chris for the bloody nose in Honeybridge? Should we rescue him?”
I shook my head as I remembered McGee’s curious comments back in the emergency room. “I… don’t think he’s angry,” I said carefully.
Reagan’s confusion cleared to shock and then absolute glee. “Oh my god. Love smacked McGee in the face, just like I told him it would. I am going to give him so much shit about this. But first…”
He drew me over to the sofa and sat down, one leg drawn up so he could face me fully. He looked almost hesitant. “Thatcher. You know how, just a minute ago, you told me that I should come to you if I need something? If I have… concerns?”
I frowned. “Yes, of course. What’s wrong, baby?”
“Well.” He licked his lips and met my eyes. The fact that his were dancing should have been my first clue. “I’m concerned that my boyfriend and I haven’t had sex in fucking ages, even though I’ve told him I’m fine, so I wanted to check in—”
I pushed Reagan down into the cushions with a growl, and he shrieked with laughter until I levered myself over him. “Is that so?”
“It is.” He smoothed his hands up my chest and wrapped them around my neck. “So, Thatcher Pennington, how are you feeling right now?”
I leaned down and kissed him lightly on the lips. “I’m feeling lucky as fuck, Reagan Wellbridge. And how are you feeling?”
His lips turned up, and in his aquamarine eyes, I saw my future. “I feel loved. Cherished. And like I’m finally Mr. Important.”
I moved my hands up to hold his face. “I meant what I said during the interview, Reagan. As soon as you’re ready for more, I’m going to marry you without any hesitation. Do you understand?”
His answering grin was wild, free, and unhesitating, the way it was meant to be.
“Yes, sir.”
Epilogue
Reagan
The following New Year’s Eve
“Mask stays on. Clothes come off,” a deep, male voice rumbled in my ear. “You’re going to be good for me tonight, aren’t you?”
The man’s indecent proposal sent a trail of goose bumps washing over my skin, and I froze in surprise. Before he’d spoken, I’d been watching various couples twirl across the floor at the masked charity ball, wondering where the hell my husband was. I’d sent him to get me a vodka soda twenty minutes ago.
“Pardon me?” My words came out husky and flirtatious. “Do I know you?”