Sweetheart – The Morgans of New York Read Online Deborah Bladon

Categories Genre: Billionaire, Contemporary, Erotic Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 75457 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
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He turns in his chair, so he’s facing me directly. “Tell me.”

“Sweet Love,” I whisper.

“Sweet Love,” he repeats. “That’s what they had, isn’t it? A sweet love that stood the test of time.”

A loud rumble of thunder sends both of our gazes toward the window.

Jameson is out of the chair and on his feet in an instant. His hand reaches out to me. “Come with me.”

I do it without any hesitation.

He holds my hand while he grabs his suit jacket off the coat rack near his office door. When he turns to face me, I see softness in his expression. “You don’t mind a little rain.”

I tug on the bottom of my red cardigan. “It may not be waterproof but I think I’ll be fine.”

CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE

Sinclair

Jameson races up the subway steps with me in tow.

I’m holding tightly to his hand as he maneuvers around the mid-afternoon commuters trying to escape the sudden storm.

Thunder claps in the distance. It lures Jameson’s gaze back to meet mine. His eyes glimmer as the sky comes into view.

It may have been a sea of darkness when we boarded the subway, but now that we’re in midtown, the clouds are breaking apart, and the rain has slowed to nothing more than a sprinkle.

“We missed the storm,” I tell him as we hit the sidewalk.

“No,” he corrects me, pushing a strand of my hair behind my ear. “We lived through the storms, all of them. We made it through, and it brought us here.”

“Here?”

He shakes his head. “Close, but not here.”

“What?” I laugh as he tugs on my hand. “What does that mean?”

He starts walking. “Remember when we went to that movie in Times Square when we were fourteen?”

I nod. “We paid for one movie and snuck into another.”

“We snuck into the R-rated one.” He chuckles. “That was the first time I saw tits on a big screen. They were massive.”

I squeeze his hand. “The bare ass on the actor in that one was spectacular.”

He stops mid-step to look down at me. “Better than my ass?”

I shrug. “I’ll need another look at yours before I make a final judgment.”

He glances around us. “It’s too crowded here. My naked ass would cause havoc in midtown Manhattan.”

Holding in a smile, I sigh. “We can’t have that now, can we?”

We slow as we approach a light. Jameson tugs me closer to him. “Do you know how glad I am that I came home, Sin?”

I place my hand on the center of his chest. “I know how glad I am.”

His gaze wanders past me. “We can cross now. We’re almost there.”

“Where?”

“There.” He points in front of us.

“Jameson.” My voice gets caught in my throat because we are headed right for the spot where our friendship fractured two years ago.

He doesn’t say anything as he leads me through the crowds on the damp sidewalk until we reach our destination.

With my heart thundering in my chest just as the sky lets out one more distant rumble, the man I love drops to his knee.

The people around us slow down to witness what is about to happen. Some point their phones at us to save this to memory.

Jameson’s hand dives into the inner pocket of his suit jacket. When it reappears, there’s a small square box in it and a piece of light blue paper folded in quarters.

He takes a breath before offering me the paper. “This is for you.”

I tear my gaze from the box to take the paper. With trembling hands, I shake my head. “What is this?”

“I wrote that when I was eight or nine.” He chuckles. “Open it.”

I slowly unfold it, noting the color of the ink as soon as I spot it. It’s green. It was my favorite color at the time.

“Read it,” he whispers.

I do just that silently.

Sinclair.

Will you marry me when we grow up?

Circle your answer and pass it back to me.

YES. NO.

“Jameson.” My hand darts to cover my lips.

“This is our do-over, Sin.” He gazes up at me as he pops open the box to reveal a beautiful ring. “I bought this for you a long time ago. You pointed it out at a jewelry store on the Upper East Side one day. We were with Molly and Kalon, and you said you wanted a ring like that when you got married.”

Tears well in my eyes.

I remember that day as if it was yesterday. We were a bunch of bored seventeen-year-olds on summer break. It was the fourth of July, and after we’d had our fill of fireworks, we took a stroll through the city to walk Molly home. When we passed by the jeweler, there was a display in the window with a sole spotlight on a diamond ring. It wasn’t large, but it sparkled. Molly asked if I liked it, and I whispered that one day I hoped my husband-to-be would choose one just like it.


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