“Tell Shannon I said hello.”
“All my love to Emilie and the kids.”
“Cheers.” Chains disconnects, and I sit on the couch thoughtfully.
I have so many options open to me, but I can’t think of anything I want to do except make love to my girl and think about some romantic way to ask her to marry me.
It hasn’t taken me long to come to the conclusion that this is forever. We haven’t used the L word yet, not officially, but it’s written all over both of us. As Wayne said in his letter, sometimes you just know, and I definitely know.
She’s the one for me.
She wants babies, and while it makes me a little nervous, I want what she wants. I need something more, though, like a job, but not yet. Right now, I’m content being a civilian and getting used to my new life. Maybe down the road I’ll work with Chains or help Erik get his intelligence agency off the ground, but until then, this is all I need.
Shannon is all I need.
She comes in the door a little before four, her hair windblown and cheeks red from the cold. She drops her things on the floor and straddles me on the couch.
“I missed you,” she announces, kissing me.
“I missed you too,” I laugh, cupping her ass.
“Let’s get naked. It’s been more than twenty-four hours.”
I snort in mock horror. “I’m sorry, my lovely nympho. I won’t make that mistake again.”
She’s leaning in to kiss me when she pauses and frowns. “What’s that?” she asks, noting the bulge of something stuffed behind the pillows.
“What?” I feign innocence.
“Andrew Ross, what did you do?” Her eyes narrow.
“You owed me forty-three pages.”
“Pages?” She blinks.
“For forty-three, and soon forty-four, orgasms.”
Her mouth falls open. “You counted?!”
“We had a deal.”
“That’s cheating.”
“Didn’t you count?”
“No!” Her eyes twinkle with feigned annoyance.
“Not my fault.”
“You can’t?—”
I dig under the pillows and whip out her diary. “Told you I would find it.”
She bursts out laughing. “Not fair! Give that to me.”
“There’s a page that says, ‘People’ magazine has it all wrong—the sexiest man alive is Ace Ross.’” I hold it out of her grasp as she tries to take it from me. “Do you really believe that?”
“No.” She purses her lips. “The sexiest man alive wouldn’t read my diary.”
