Page 95 of Fight for You

“Wait …”

He groaned, nipping my neck.

“Sorry.” Though my body responded, I whimpered a question, “How old is Lach?”

“Twenty-seven, twenty-eight. Who knows?”

“Too old. Tell him not to try anything with Cutie Pie.”

“You already sound like someone’s aunt, lassie. C’mere.”

As the stars spilled across the sky like scattered diamonds, Jamie swooped me into his arms. The concern for another woman, which would always be my second nature, faded. My gown trailed over the ground like mist over the earth. As we crossed over the threshold into the pool house, I knew that the two of us—survivors who lost everything and found each other—would finally share the kind of love we’d spent our lives not believing we deserved. Man, was I ready to love every inch of this man.

THE END