Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 75633 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75633 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Slowly, he stands, unwinding our fingers. I watch him walk across the room to the old radio on the counter. He flicks it on. Soft rock guitar twangs out, not at all what I expect. Country, some cowboy bellowing out his love for the one who got away. It's a change from the rambunctious, heavy beats he listens to in his shop.
Then he's next to me again, sliding my hand into his, a mysterious smirk on his face. “Give me this dance, Red.”
It's not a request. Or a dream, unbelievable as it is.
I instantly rise, grinning as I fall into his arms.
The impossible is happening.
I'm dancing with the man who dragged me into his bed, into his life, and apparently, now into his soul, too. He's a swaying, smiling contrast. A bundle of blue-eyed pain, gorgeous in his imperfections, scary in the changes rippling through his massive soul like river rapids.
I lay my head against his chest. Hear his heart hammering his ribs, and I wonder why he's nervous.
Then it hits me: he's planned this. Whatever it is, it's thought out and deliberate. And yet, I'm the one who's fighting to stay calm, moving with him as he leads me around his little kitchen, grinning like a sixteen year old idiot at prom.
“Want to know something, Red?” He leans in, stubble tickling my neck as he whispers in my ear. “You're the first woman I've ever bothered dancing with. I kept to myself in school and all through the service. Had my fun, yeah, but never made it serious. Sex was a distraction from the bullshit. From the cruelty. Nothing more.”
He lets me fall, holding onto my hands, gently tipping me backward. Then he jerks my body to his again. There's a vicious grace in his movements. His eyes are a constant glow, experts at leaving me small and wet and wanting.
But it's more than just another master seduction tonight. It has to be.
There are too many secrets in his eyes. Too big a confession bleeding in his whispers. Too much need in his embrace, winding tighter all the time, all the better to angle my head just so for the fiery kiss he traces on my lips
His forceful, teasing tongue takes my knees out from under me, leaving me breathless before I can ask any questions.
Holy hell yes.
Both his hands encircle mine before it's over. He's still holding my hands as he sinks to his knees, his gaze even firmer than before. He has my full attention. My fullest, and then some.
The snowstorm whipping against the windows could cave the roof in, and I still wouldn't look away.
“Sarah. Sadie. Red. It'd be a damn shame to ruin such a nice evening, but I'd be a jackass not to try. You're right about everything, more than I ever let on. But tonight, you said something dead wrong. We're not moving too fast, darling. I believe with all my heart we're moving at the speed God intended, and if this is too fast, too ridiculous, too reckless, it isn't meant to be. I believe you're ready to admit you're wrong, once you hear what I have to say next.”
My pulse throbs. The rest of the world goes dark and silent. Lost in his smile and two brilliant eyes that shame the stars.
His hands squeeze mine. One drops away, reaching into his pocket, digging. I'm baffled how an epic game changer can be this small. Just a tiny box, wrapped in burgundy purple.
“Red...” Oh my God, is he speaking again? I'm very, very faint. “You're wrong, I think, I hope, because I'm asking you to be my wife. Marry me.”
With a flick of his thumb, earth tilts on its axis. I'm staring into a shiny slice of heaven forged in white gold and diamonds.
A ring. A rite of passage. A journey waiting for me to say the magic word.
“Jesus, Marshal...I...” I can't remember my own name. So I just sink down on the floor, too. I throw my arms around his neck, pushing my forehead into his so hard it hurts. “Of course, of course, of course...yes!”
I'm afraid I'll leave my own body. Good thing his kiss anchors me back in the flesh, and the ring sliding on my finger does the rest. His tongue hits mine and I'm home where I belong, happier than I've ever been to admit when I'm wrong.
“Thank fuck. I'm no expert at this proposal thing..”
“Marshal, it was perfect. You were right, and so is this. Just the speed we're meant for,” I whisper, echoing his words.
His eyes are narrowed now, fixed on mine with a balmy blue peace I've never seen. His next kiss comes with rough fingers in my hair, his other hand in mine, gripping the size eight promise he just made like it's forever.