Total pages in book: 28
Estimated words: 25267 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 126(@200wpm)___ 101(@250wpm)___ 84(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 25267 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 126(@200wpm)___ 101(@250wpm)___ 84(@300wpm)
“You make it hard to say no.”
“Then say yes, trouble.”
I take a deep breath and decide to jump in with both feet. “Okay. Let’s do it.”
A huge grin breaks out across his face as he pulls me into his arms again. “I love you.” He breathes against my lips.
“I love you, too.” I finally admit the words that’ve been stuck in my throat for the last few days.
“Thank god.” He kisses me again until my knees go week. When he steps back, I lean against the break room table to stay on my feet. “Now, finish your sandwich.”
“Yes, sir.” I laugh and reach for the pastrami.
We spend another ten minutes in the quiet of the break room, a tiny bubble of sanity in the middle of the hospital chaos. He tells me about the game, about how Ryan is still being a pain in his ass. It’s mundane. It’s domestic. It’s the most perfect conversation.
When the pager on my hip finally buzzes, the sound feels like a physical blow. I look down at the display and see there’s an incoming ambulance, five minutes out. The bubble pops, and the professional world rushes back in with the force of a tidal wave.
"I have to go," I say, sliding off the table. I feel a sudden, sharp pang of loss at the thought of him leaving. I want to tuck him into my pocket and keep him there.
"I know," he reaches out and straightens my scrub top, his fingers lightly running along my collarbone for a second. "I’ll be in the parking lot at seven to pick you up. We can get a few hours sleep then start moving your stuff into my apartment."
"I’ll be there," I promise. I look at him, really look at him, and for the first time, I don't try to hide the way I’m feeling. I let the affection, the want, and the terrifying realization of how much he matters show on my face. "See you soon."
He kisses my forehead and the tender gesture makes my eyes sting. "Go save lives, Mia. I’ll see you in the morning."
I walk back out into the hallway, my heart pounding hard in my chest. As I pass the nurses' station, the atmosphere is electric. Katie is standing there, arms crossed, a grin on her face that tells me she’s dying to know what’s going on. Oh, well. She’ll have to wait until we deal with this trauma.
I spend the next three hours in a blur of ER chaos counting the hours until my shift ends and I can see Mick again.
CHAPTER TEN
MICK
SIX MONTHS LATER
The ring has been burning a hole in my pocket for exactly six months. After Mia moved in with me, she told me she wanted to wait until the end of the hockey season before we talked about making our relationship permanent. It killed me to wait but I was willing to do whatever it took to keep Mia. Forever.
I steer the boat toward the center of the water, the engine a low, steady thrum beneath my feet. The rental is a classic wooden Chris-Craft, all polished mahogany and gleaming chrome, because Mia isn’t a fiberglass-and-glitter kind of woman. She’s timeless. She’s the kind of woman you build a life around, not just a weekend.
“Mick, this is incredible,” she says, leaning against the rail. She’s wearing that leather jacket I love, the one that smells like her perfume and stubborn independence. Her dark hair is catching the wind, wild and tangled, and her blue eyes are reflecting the first bruised purples of the sunset.
“Only the best for my best girl,” I say, keeping my voice steady even though my heart is about to pound out of my chest. I cut the engine, letting us drift. The silence of the Puget Sound settles over us, punctuated only by the soft slap of water against the hull.
I reach for the wicker basket I packed this afternoon. I pull out the chilled bottle of champagne and the deli containers from that place downtown she’s obsessed with. There’s enough pastrami and potato salad here to feed the entire Knights’ defensive line, but I know it’s her favorite.
“Champagne and deli sandwiches?” She laughs, the sound rich and bright, hitting me harder than any puck to the chest. “You really know the way to a girl’s heart.”
“I know the way to your heart,” I correct, popping the cork with a muted thud. I pour two glasses, the bubbles hissing in the quiet air. “And that’s all that matters to me.”
I hand her a glass, my fingers brushing hers. That spark is still there, the one that’s been humming between us since the first night I saw her and realized I was done for. It’s a physical pull, a magnetic north that keeps me centered no matter how chaotic things gets.