Total pages in book: 38
Estimated words: 36487 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 182(@200wpm)___ 146(@250wpm)___ 122(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 36487 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 182(@200wpm)___ 146(@250wpm)___ 122(@300wpm)
I sweep a lock of hair from her cheek and tuck it behind her ear. And then I get down on one knee in front of her.
“The first time I ever saw you, I thought, There is no universe in which she doesn’t belong to me.”
Now she looks shy—every inch of her young, and pure, and so fucking sweet.
“Oh, Marshall.”
“I meant it then, and I mean it now.” And I slip my hand into my pants pocket. There it is, waiting for me, as it has been for days. A little velvet box. I flip it open and she gasps.
“Lexie. Marry me.”
She doesn’t say yes.
She doesn’t have to.
It’s not really a question, it’s an order.
But, still, her kiss tells me everything I need to know.
CHAPTER 12
Marshall
Epilogue 6 Months Later
It’s the big day. Our wedding day. It’s happening on my estate and the place is alive with caterers and florists and guests.
Including Lennon, still looking pale after his wife-to-be found out about the auction and dumped his undeserving ass.
And Lexie’s three best friends, who two hours ago serenaded everyone with a rendition of M.C. Hammer’s, “U Can’t Touch This”. Apparently, some sort of bet they made. Whatever, it made most people chuckle and my princess laugh which was all I cared about.
A lot has happened in the last six months. I moved her here with me, and we got her enrolled in school, studying what she wants, as she wants. No more econ, no more political science, fuck all that noise. Now she’s enrolled in a combined Bachelor’s-Master’s at the School of Agriculture at Louisiana State in Baton Rouge. She’s also got a growing hive on the back of our property. So many nights, I’ve watched her at sunset, enjoying a whiskey, listening to her hum to the bees.
Seeing her happy makes me happy. It’s just that fucking simple.
And today is the cherry on top.
Even her parents are here.
Once they got over the shock, they supported us in a way that neither one of us expected. Lexie says it comes down to money, but I’m not so sure. Behind that ice queen exterior, her mom is still there somewhere. The sister I missed so much. And it seems like by falling in love with Lexie, I helped heal a few wounds.
It’s almost show time. I’m up in my dressing room, waiting for Victor, my best man. I’m all dressed, but can’t fucking figure out this Windsor knot, no matter how hard I try.
A knock at the door surprises me. Victor would knock, but not so soft and sweet. Could be the florist with my boutonniere.
“Yeah, come in.”
The door opens slightly, but nobody steps inside. Holding the edge of the door now, I see Lexie’s sweet little fingers, and her engagement ring, sparkling in the light.
“Holy shit, what are you doing here?”
“I’m not really here-here. But I need to talk to you. So close your eyes.”
“Isn’t there some rule against this? Seeing each other?”
“Right. Which is why I said close your eyes.”
For half a second, I wonder if I can get away with peeking. But no. Fuck that. There’s a time for breaking rules and this isn’t one of them.
“Closed.”
The sound of fabric on the carpet fills the air. Somehow, I just know she’s in her dress. The dress she’ll be wearing when she becomes my wife.
She steps into me, close enough that I can smell her perfume. She goes straight for my tie, adjusting my collar and then looping and slipping the silk with an expert touch.
“I have to talk to you.”
“Now?”
“Now. And you have to keep your eyes closed. No matter what I say. No matter how surprised you are.” She smooths my tie in a final adjustment and takes my hands.
“Christ. I don’t like the sound of this.”
She clears her throat. Clutches my hands in hers, tight. Church and steeple, all the people.
“So, apparently…” She swallows hard. Nervous. I can even feel her hands shaking a little bit in mine. The air is almost vibrating with her energy. And it’s fucking killing me. Because I want her excited, I want her breathless, but I don’t want her shaking with worry. Not on my account.
Never.
“Tell me. Just fucking say it.”
“Apparently your…”
My…my what? My best man is drunk? My caterer never showed? My way of life isn’t for her? I can’t fucking take this.
“Lexie. Just say it. Put me out of my misery.”
Big inhale and she blurts it out.
“Apparently your swimmers were hell bent for metal on knocking me up.”
Wait. A. Minute.
Is she saying what I think she’s saying?
Holy fuck alive.
“Are you telling me…?”
“Yes. I am. And I wanted you to know it now, before we get married, so I wasn’t…” She makes a frustrated little whimper, searching for the word. “...I don’t know, conning you into something you didn’t sign up for. Wrangling you into some two-for-one deal.”