Epilogue

Epilogue

Maxim

Three years later

Where is my wife?

I bash my gloved hands against my head and continue circling my opponent.

I’m far more taunted by the empty front row seat than I am by this bastard.

She had dress rehearsal tonight for her one woman show, The Fighter’s Prize, which she has spent the last few years writing, while taking roles in various plays. After the night we met and she pretended to be stranded, I always knew my Whitney was an incredible actress, but when I saw her on stage, she made me feel very funny in my chest. More funny than usual.

When she laughed up there, I smiled.

When she yelled, I wanted to yell as well.

When she cried, I wanted to cry.

I also want to shout at people who look at their cell phones while she is on stage. Can they not see what a treasure is in their midst?

Okay, so once or twice, I did crush a cell phone under my foot.

I had to start waiting outside for the play to finish.

But I managed to keep my control on a leash after that and now watching Whitney on stage is my favorite thing to do. Especially since she does not kiss boys. That would not have gone over well at all, no matter what compromises were made.

She is mine.

My wife, my best friend, my preoccupation.

My world.

I am hers, too, so she really should be sitting in the reserved seat.

I look questioningly at Scout, who sits directly to the right of the open seat. Then at Scout’s husband, who merely shrugs and makes a wrist flicking gesture at me to keep fighting. I make a disgusted face at him around my mouthpiece. I can’t believe this man has become my friend. He is mostly insufferable, but I keep him around because he brings the sister and the sister makes the wife smile. And I live for her smile.

He also brings good cigars.

Finally, I see my wife trotting down the aisle and I almost get my head knocked off while shouting at her to slow down. Is she crazy to run in heels when she is six months pregnant with our second son?

Whitney falls into her chair and winks at me—and just like that, I am focused.

The world has twisted into place and I am ready for anything. My wife is here.

God she looks very pretty.

Is that a new dress?

Seemingly in answer to my question, she lifts the hem slightly and crosses her legs. Slowly. And I see she is not wearing any panties.

My opponent is on the mat within seconds and I am roaring to be let out of the octagon. As soon as I’m free, I jump down and find my wife, carrying her up the aisle at a fast clip to the roaring of the crowd.

“We make a good team,” she laughs, leaning her cheek against my shoulder. “You bring the muscle. I bring the motivation.”

My own laughter booms out, cutting through the cheers, and I wonder—not for the first time—if I was truly happy a single day before I met her. If I even knew happiness like this could exist. No. I don’t think so. To me, Whitney is happiness. They are one and the same. “If a moment with you is on the line, I will always win, Whitney. I love you.”

She kisses me on the mouth and the cheers turn deafening. “I love you, too, Maxim.”

THE END

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HUSKY

It’sFashion Week in New York City and Parker is down to the wire to design a men’s look. One problem? None of the slim male models are inspiring her. She goes in search of inspiration and finds Daws. He’s nothing like the men in the fashion world. He’s huge, he’s thick…he’s husky. And he’s exactly what she needs. Now to convince the gruff former bodyguard turned bar owner to be her pin cushion for the night…

Daws doesn’t need convincing.The moment Parker sets foot in his bar, he’s a goner. He’ll do anything to be alone with the fresh faced sweetheart, even if it means walking down a runway in front of a thousand strangers. It’s not long before temptation takes over and Daws shows Parker that big men do it better. But can he fit into her perfect world permanently? Or will they have to exist on the memories of their one explosive night?

Get it here:https://bit.ly/2DgBHLA