Total pages in book: 166
Estimated words: 160042 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 800(@200wpm)___ 640(@250wpm)___ 533(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 160042 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 800(@200wpm)___ 640(@250wpm)___ 533(@300wpm)
So here we are, married and trying for a baby.
When we come down from the high, he gently lowers me onto the ground and turns me over. He covers me with his body, and taking his mask off, puts his mouth on mine. He gives me gentle kisses, as gentle as our lovemaking was hard.
“Hey,” I whisper, opening my eyes.
His dark eyes are filled with concern. “You okay?”
“Uh-huh.”
“That wasn’t too rough?”
I throw him a blissful smile. “It was perfect.”
He watches me smile for a moment before coming down for another lazy, cozy kiss. When that’s over, it’s my turn to ask, “Are you okay?”
His features tighten a bit, but then he says, “Yeah.”
I cup his jaw. “The wedding wasn’t too much for you?”
He swallows. “In the beginning.”
“But then?”
He licks his lips, traces my face with his pitch-black eyes. “Then I saw you walk down the aisle, lookin’ like a dream, and I forgot everythin’ else. The world could be on fire and I wouldn’t have noticed.”
I smile again, relieved. Even though at my insistence he’s seeing someone about his PTSD, I was worried about him in the crowd. When he proposed to me one night, by his favorite creek—he got me a ring and got down on his knee and everything—I told him that I didn’t want a big wedding, just him and me with his family would work. But he said he’d already done that once. He’d already ruined my special day and colored it with blood so he was going to do this right. And if it meant learning more breathing exercises and suffering through a few hours of being in a crowd, he’d do it.
He’s crazy that way, my husband.
But the ceremony was beautiful. All of his family was there, along with all the ranch hands. Rad was his best man, and obviously, Peyton was my maid of honor. But the most memorable part was my husband standing at the end of the aisle, wearing a suit that fit him like a glove and his brown Stetson. I don’t think there’s another man anywhere who’s more handsome than Arsen.
I wind my arms around his neck and give him a peck on his jaw. “Are you trying to sweet-talk me?”
“Depends.” He kisses me back. “Is it workin’?”
“Yeah. For a hardened cowboy with a record, you’re a fast learner.”
“What can I say, that’s because for a naive little college girl, you’re a good teacher.”
“I love you.”
“You’re my life,” he says, and I love that more than those three words because it’s his way of declaring his love for me. And only he knows how to love me right.
“Happy wedding day, husband,” I whisper, smiling.
He hums and kisses me again. Softly, gently. Until I run out of heartbeats and breath. But I’m still able to say, “Till death do us part.”
He stares at me a beat before rasping, “Nah, not even then. Because even death can’t tear me apart from my wife.”