A string of hearts followed her message and I wished I could rush home right then and do exactly that.
Me:I can’t wait to make you my wife.
I added even more hearts to my message than she had. Yup, I was a sap and proud of it.
River:I can’t wait to be your wife.
Before I could respond, she texted again.
River:Just a small group for vows though. If the group wants to do something later, that’s okay.
Me:Whatever you want, sweetheart.
I’d do anything for River.
She shot me a smiley face and then the dots started again.
River:By the way, your mom met a hot doctor that was checking her out and the ladies are in set-up mode.
What the fuck? My mom? A guy?
Did I want her to find a man? Shit, I hadn’t thought aboutit, but I should have. It had been so bad with my dad and just the two of us for so long that her being single had been the norm.
My phone pinged again.
River:Breathe, baby. It’s a good thing. She deserves to be as happy as us, and to find as good of a man as I did. Although, he won’t be quite as good because I got the best one out there.
My woman was right and her words made me feel fucking phenomenal.
The alarm blared and I knew I had to go.
Me:Thank you, baby. And she does deserve to be happy. Alarm just went off, I’ll call you later. Stay safe going home and make sure you lock things up when you and the kids get there. Love you.
River:I will. You also need to be safe. Love you too.
I wished I could be by her side all the time, but that wasn’t possible. We still hadn’t found out anything about who attacked her at work or why. It was eating at me, but she was determined to live her life. Or as she liked to say, it was her new life because now she had me in it.
As I ran to grab my gear and equipment, I let myself revel in the fact—before I got into work mode—that in another week, River would be my wife.
Little did I know then how close I’d come to losing her before that ever happened.
Chapter Forty-Nine
RIVER
Home sweet home.
We pulled up to the house and parked, but I didn’t move. It had been a long day—one full of amazing memories—and the idea of making dinner didn’t sound too appealing. I groaned with exhaustion.
“Want me to run and grab something from our favorite pizza place?” Lennon asked.
How the heck was my sixteen-year-old reading minds like my fiancé and all the other guys in our group? Were they showing him the ropes or did it just come naturally?
“I know you. That groan said it all.”
There it was again, this time making me laugh.
“Okay, Mr. Mind Reader, pizza sounds great.”
