Page 36

I wake up to the rich scent of coffee brewing and a goddamn miracle.

Last night happened. Actually fucking happened.

She said yes.

Savannah… my beautiful, infuriating obsession for the last year said yes to my marriage proposal. The girl who’s been occupying every corner of my twisted mind just agreed to be mine. Forever.

What kind of fucked-up fairy tale is this?

My hand shoots across the empty mattress to her side of the bed, and I drag my fingers over the sheets that still hold her warmth. She’s not here, but her scent lingers. I wanted to worship her properly last night and show her exactly what being mine means, but she needs space.

And I’m nothing if not patient when it comes to her.

Scrubbing my face, I drag my sorry ass out of bed and catch my reflection in the mirror. I look like I’ve been hit by a truck, but not because Cal and Mark threw a few punches my way. No. It’s because Savannah gave me the best damn blow job of my life, twice, and I’m still reeling from it.

What the fuck even was that?

I ignore my half-hard cock and assess the damage to my torso.

The bruises are faint enough that they won’t raise questions during training.

Dash might notice, the idiot’s observant when he’s not busy eye-fucking my sister, but I’d tell him the truth anyway.

I don’t lie to my best friend, especially about the girl who owns my soul.

The one I’m marrying.

My future fucking wife.

My chest constricts at the thought, but not from panic. From possession. Pure, unadulterated ownership of something precious, something I’ll hold on to for the rest of my life.

Savannah. My wife. My future. My entire goddamn universe.

Marriage is a massive leap, the kind that sends weaker men running for the hills. But with her? It's the easiest decision I've ever made. She's mine, has been since the moment I laid eyes on her, and it's time the rest of the world gets the memo.

I throw on a shirt and step out of the bedroom, only to freeze in the doorway like I've been sucker-punched.

There she is.

Standing at my kitchen counter with her back to me, drowning in my oversized shirt like it's her uniform. She's pouring coffee into a mug with the casual confidence of someone who's done this a thousand mornings before, in a kitchen that belongs to her.

Fuck.

My brain flatlines. The shirt hangs off her delicate frame, slipping down one shoulder to reveal a tantalizing strip of golden skin, and my semi-hard cock decides now's the perfect time to remind me exactly what I'm working with.

She shifts her weight, completely oblivious to the fact that she just became the center of my entire existence, and something primal takes over.

I move.

Slowly.

Deliberately.

Crossing the room with quiet steps until I’m right behind her.

She doesn’t notice me at first, too focused on her coffee, but the second I slide an arm around her waist, she stills, her body tensing before she exhales a soft, sharp breath.

I press a lingering kiss to her cheek, my lips brushing against her skin, feeling the way her body melts into mine.

“Morning, Pretty Girl.”

“Morning.” Her response is soft, almost hesitant, but she slides a coffee mug across the counter without meeting my eyes. Does she think if she doesn’t look at me, last night will dissolve into some fever dream?

Not a chance in hell, sweetheart. You’re stuck with me now. Forever and always.

She perches on the barstool, and that’s when I spot Stanley glaring at me next to the counter.

“All right, buddy. I got you.” I grab his bowl from the cabinet and start preparing his breakfast.

Savannah watches me work, her fingers curled around the warm ceramic. “So that’s where his food is. Since I’m going to be one of his primary caregivers now, that’s something I really should know.”

Her voice is light. Sweet, almost. I’ve never heard her sound so happy, and damn does it make me proud knowing I’m the reason for it.

“Yeah, Stan’s pretty low-maintenance. He just needs a few walks a day, some snuggles at night, and food. Then he’s a happy boy. Kind of like me.”

“I can see that.”

After setting Stanley’s bowl down, I lean against the counter opposite Savannah and take a long sip of my coffee as I watch her.

“So what are these logistics we need to talk about?” Yeah, I brought it up almost instantly because I’m not playing games. I’ll wait forever for Savannah, but I need to know logistics aren’t going to cockblock our future.

She smiles, taking her own sip before answering. “A few things, I guess. Are you su—”

I raise a hand, cutting her off before she can finish. “Sav, I swear to everything sacred, if you ask me one more time if I’m sure I want to marry you, I’m going to have to take drastic measures to prove just how sure I am.”

Her lips part slightly, cheeks tinged with pink. “No, I was going to ask if you were sure you wanted Adley living here.”

Relief floods through me, and I nod without hesitation. “Oh. Fuck yes. Absolutely. No question. We’ll decorate her room however she wants, and you”—I pause, watching her expression carefully—“you can move all your stuff into our bedroom.”

She swallows hard, her fingers tightening around her mug.

“When you’re ready, of course,” I add quickly because I’m not completely savage. Yet.

“Of course,” she echoes, her voice softer now. “When she moves here… that makes complete sense.”

I watch her closely, the way her eyes flicker with thought, like she’s still trying to wrap her head around all of this. The marriage, the moving in, the fact that this isn’t just a temporary fix… it’s real, and I intend to make sure she never doubts it again.

“And so what are the next steps to get her here?” I ask, tossing Stanley a treat once he’s finished with his breakfast.

She blinks, clearly caught off guard by the question. “I should probably call my foster counselor, Fern,” she says after a pause. “I assume she can put me in touch with the adoption agency and walk me through the process.”

Her voice is even, but there’s something guarded in her expression, like she’s bracing for impact.

“I’d talked about it with her briefly before, but…” She hesitates, rolling her lips together, eyes flicking away like she’s afraid to say the next part out loud. “I don’t think anyone really believed I’d be able to do it.”

“Don’t you love proving people wrong?” I don’t even let her doubt settle. “We’ll get her back, I promise.”

“Mhm.”

My eyes drop to her bare ring finger, and I make a mental note to fix that tragedy ASAP. “Do we need to be married before you contact them?”

“I doubt it. I think living here and being engaged would be enough evidence. We’d probably need to come up with a good backstory about how we met.”

“Easy. Last year. I had the biggest crush on you the moment I saw you in class, but it took me months to work up the balls to actually talk to you.” I take a step toward the kitchen island and lean over so I’m in her space.

“You ignored me at first, played hard to get, but I’m a persistent motherfucker when I want something.

And I wanted you.” Her pupils dilate as she watches me.

“You finally agreed to watch me play hockey and we’ve been inseparable since. Sound good?”

“I, uh, guess so.”

“Perfect. Now that we’ve established our origin story, there’s one more thing.” I grin. “Summer wedding or winter?”

“Uh.”

I smile because I enjoy taking her by surprise. “Obviously, I’m partial to winter, so I can literally skate you off your feet on the ice, but I’m open to negotiation. Plus, summer means no scheduling conflicts with games.”

“I haven’t really thought about that.”

“Really? So it’s not running through your mind every second of the day like it is mine?”

She laughs, and I let her think I'm joking. Better that than her realizing I'm completely fucking obsessed and have been planning our wedding since approximately five minutes after she said yes.

“I've been thinking about it a lot too. I'm still trying to wrap my head around the engagement part, though. Wedding planning is… overwhelming.”

“No sweat,” I say easily. “Any other logistical landmines we need to defuse?”

“I mentioned it before. What happens when you move to Atlanta?”

The million-dollar question. “Honestly? I have no fucking clue. But I'm good with taking it one day at a time, and I'm not expecting you to uproot your life for me. Especially not when Adley's just getting settled.”

She worries her bottom lip between her teeth, a habit that's going to be the death of me. “But how would being married even work if we're living in different states?”

I shrug like it doesn't terrify me. “Same way marriages work when people are in the same place. We'll figure our shit out. That's what couples do.”

“Okay,” she says, but she sounds about as convinced as I feel.

“Any other concerns we need to tackle?”

“I don't know. Maybe I can think everything through and we can talk more over dinner tonight?”

Fuck. My stomach drops.

“What's wrong?”

I scrub my jaw, already hating myself. “I'm out of town tonight for a game. We're staying overnight in case it runs late.”

She doesn't react visibly, but the temperature in the room shifts. All that progress we just made, all the walls I've been carefully dismantling, and now I have to leave her. The first night we could actually celebrate being engaged, talk through all her fears properly.

“Where are you going?”

“Not far. Southern Collegiate.”

She nods, lips pressing together like she wants to say something but doesn’t. “That’s fine, I—”

She stops, cutting herself off. Then looks down at her coffee. What’s she so afraid of?

And then it hits me.

“Are you going back to Luke’s?”

Her lips part, and she shakes her head. “He told me to take a few days off after last night.”

“Mhm.” Buttering her up, making her think he cares.

“You can quit, you know.” I keep my voice level, controlled, because this conversation is a minefield and one wrong step will send her running.

“You could go back to the diner if you want a job. Not that you need to work—focusing on school is what matters, and things might get hectic when Adley comes home.” I'm rambling like an idiot and force myself to stop. “I just want you happy.”

“I appreciate that, Cade.” She glances up with a smile that's all heartbreak and resignation. “I just wish it were that simple. You know Luke… there's a lot of complicated history there, and I'm kind of trapped working for him right now.”

“You were trapped.” I set my mug down and cover her hand with mine. “You've got me now, and I'm going to help you fix this shit.”

She exhales slowly, doubt written all over her beautiful face. She wants to believe me but doesn't understand how I'll pull it off. Perfect. I fucking live for proving people wrong.

“How much do you owe him?” I keep my voice steady, even though every instinct is screaming at me to hunt that bastard down and end him.

She stutters before answering. “I-I don't know exactly. He just… tells me when I've worked some of it off.”

Motherfucker.

I knew it. The piece of shit is keeping her on a leash, dangling freedom like a carrot she'll never reach. Pure manipulation, and my sweet Savannah walked right into his trap.

I breathe through my nose, trying to sound calmer than I feel. “That's complete bullshit, Savannah.”

She flinches at my bluntness. Fuck. So much for restraint.

“He's stringing you along, baby. He'll never let you go until you make him.”

Her gaze drops to her coffee, and I watch her fold into herself. The last thing I want is to sound harsh, but sometimes the truth hurts before it heals.

“What choice do I have? Until I pay him back, I'm stuck.”

“No.” My voice is steel. “You're not. Give me a few days and I'll handle it before he expects you back. That's a promise.”

She squeezes my hand and looks up at me with a smile. “Gosh, you’re taking the role of fiancé seriously, aren’t you?”

“Of course. I’ve made a commitment to you, Sav. I intend on keeping it. This is just one of our logistical points. It needs to be figured out, but it’s in no way a deal breaker.”

I lean in, closing the small gap between us, our breath mixing as my lips hover just above hers. My fingers graze the back of her neck, my thumb brushing along her jawline, coaxing her closer.

She meets me halfway, kissing me slow and deliberate, and when she pulls back, she whispers, “Thank you, Cade. Since I won't see you tonight, will you walk me to class?”

“Always. You know I'd follow you to the ends of the earth.”

Her smile is softer this time as she pushes back from the counter. “Perfect. I just need to get ready.”

I watch her retreat to the bedroom, my eyes shamelessly devouring the sway of her hips and the curve of her perfect ass. She disappears behind the door, leaving me with the same thought that's been consuming me since last night.

I will destroy Luke's hold on her. Whatever it fucking takes.