Total pages in book: 46
Estimated words: 44725 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 224(@200wpm)___ 179(@250wpm)___ 149(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 44725 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 224(@200wpm)___ 179(@250wpm)___ 149(@300wpm)
“I don’t want to get published just because we’re together. I don’t want to cheat the system.”
“Publishing’s a hard game. Sometimes, even the best books don’t reach the readers they deserve, but I respect you, Zoey, more than anybody. If that’s the path you want to take, I’ll respect that too.”
“I’ll think about it,” I murmur. “Thank you.”
We pull up in the parking lot of a large warehouse-style building. Jax places his hand possessively against the small of my back as we walk into the building. The chunk-chunk-chunk of the printing press reaches us first, and then we walk into a cavernous room, books running along the assembly line. Pride whelms in me when I see them, Jaxson’s name on the front.
“Here,” Jaxson says, picking up one from the pile. “Why don’t you take a look?”
He’s unusually fidgety as he hands it to me. It must’ve been printed recently. It’s still warm but nowhere near as hot as the love expanding inside me, spreading its glow further each moment. As I open the book, Jax drifts behind me. I gape down at the dedication.
To my wife, the love of my life, Zoey.
“I don’t understand,” I whisper.
“It’s a gamble,” Jax replies. “If you say no, I’ll look like one hell of a jackass, but I wanted to see it in print to make it real.”
I turn, looking for him. I take a second to realize… Oh, wow. He’s on one knee, a ring box in his hand, staring up at me with emotion welling in his eyes.
“Zoey, I love you,” he says firmly. “I love you so, so much. I’ve wanted to say it a thousand times, but I was waiting for this moment—for you to read it in black and white.”
“I love you too,” I whisper, my voice breaking as a sob rises in my throat. “I’ve almost said it a million times.”
He smiles. “Zoey Gray…”
Opening the ring box, he displays an enormous diamond, the band elegant, so much more than I ever could’ve dreamed of.
“Will you marry me?”
“Yes,” I yell over the sound of the printing machine. “I can’t believe you were ever worried.”
He slips the ring onto my finger and then jumps to his feet, sweeping me into his arms. With the smell of paper all around us and so much love in my heart that I’m sure I could burst, we kiss. We kiss passionately. We kiss like we’re telling the universe, We’re here. We’re together, and nothing is ever going to change that.
EPILOGUE
THREE WEEKS LATER
Jaxson
I hold my hands near the weight bar as Peter completes his last set. He grunts, then slots the bar into place, standing with a grin on his face.
“I can’t tell you how happy I am,” he says, “and I meant what I said before. Luke would be happy, too, knowing you will care for, support, and protect her. You’re not breaking the promise you made. You’re keeping it.”
I smile, clapping him on the shoulder. “Hell, I’m just glad you came around.”
When my phone vibrates from the floor, I reach for it quickly. Peter chuckles and shakes his head.
“You’re like a teenager with that thing.”
I laugh. “Guilty.”
Hey, Jax. Do you think you’d be able to look at my latest chapter when you get home?
I never thought I could feel this carefree, this weightless. When I read home, it reminds me that Zoey has moved in with me. It’s heaven waking up next to her every morning. How did I ever live without her?
Of course. You don’t even have to ask.
You’re the best. I love you.
I love you, too, so much.
I drive home with a big old smile, probably cheesy as hell, but not caring even a bit. We fought for this—the right to spend an evening together without worrying about reality crashing down and crushing us.
As usual, I’m grinning like a madman when I walk through the door to my apartment, and as usual, I can’t help but think about the house we’re going to have one day. We’re already looking for a place to call our own, a real home where we will raise our kids.
“Zoey?” I call.
“In the shower,” she yells back. “My laptop’s on the coffee table.”
Odd, but I can’t hear the shower going. Maybe she means she’s about to get in the shower. Since she’s so keen for me to look at her story, I head straight to the coffee table, picking up her laptop. Instead of her usual artistic prose, only two large words are on the screen.
I’m pregnant.
I leap to my feet, meaning to dart through the house and join my woman in the shower, but she’s already waiting for me, wearing lingerie that has my mouth watering. Before we get steamy, though, I stride across the room and sweep her into my arms. I hug her tightly, flooding with love and determination to do right by her, always protecting her and our child.