Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 76415 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76415 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
She just blinks. “I seriously can’t believe you left the playoffs for me.”
“I’d do anything for you, Willow. I love you.”
“I’m so sorry I couldn’t say the words to you before. I was so caught up in being scared about marriage that I didn’t even stop to think about how I felt about you. Had I done that—just taken a moment—none of this would have happened. I love you so much, Dominik.”
That deserves another kiss, so I give it to her, hoping to convey it’s truly going to be okay between us.
I pull back from the softness of her lips. “No more talking. Let’s get back on my plane and go to Paris. Or London. Or even Amsterdam. Wherever you want to go in Europe, as we can be there in four to five hours. We’ll let you get some rest before we head back to the States.”
“I wish we could head straight to Phoenix so we could see the game,” she murmurs dejectedly. “I feel horrible for leaving.”
“We’d never make it back in time,” I say, taking her by the hand. I lift it to my mouth, then press my lips to it. “But I promise… we’ll watch it on TV while naked in bed. Sound okay?”
She smiles, though it’s a little sad because not being at the game in person sucks.
Regardless, I’d rather have Willow safe, sound, and firmly back in my life. I’m the absolute winner right now.
♦
We’re not naked. Instead, we’re sitting on the end of the bed, leaning toward the flat-screen TV.
As with owning a private jet capable of traversing oceans on a tank of gas, it was pretty easy to secure a luxury suite with access to a live feed of the final championship game.
When Willow and I arrived in Paris, we took showers, both of us travel weary, and slept for a few hours. I woke her up with my mouth, and we made love twice.
Ordered room service and ate like starved animals.
Fucked in the shower, then dressed in the robes provided by the hotel.
And now, we’ve been screaming at the TV for the past three hours as the time ticks down toward victory. The Vengeance is up 4-2 with less than a minute to play, and it’s on a TV timeout right now.
Willow bounces off the end of the bed and crawls onto my lap, straddling me. Her face is lit up with excitement and sheer joy. “I can’t believe it, Dominik. You’re getting ready to win the championship. The brand-new baby team in the league is knocking down veritable giants, and it’s all because of the amazing roster you put together.”
“It’s surreal,” I admit. “I mean… when I bought the team, it was just an investment, but it’s gone so far beyond that.”
“It’s become a family,” she says. And, yes, that’s exactly what it is. “I still feel bad we’re not there.”
“Everyone understands,” I promise her. Willow called her parents and Dax from the plane as we flew out of Adana toward Paris. She told them some glossed-over details about what happened and that we were headed to Paris. They were just so happy she was safe and returning home no one minded in the least—especially Dax—that she wasn’t there.
As for my team, I’m sure they’ll understand. In fact, I know they will. Dax got on the phone with me for a private word, to thank me for going after his sister. His parting words were, “I’ll always have your back, bro.”
I think all my players would feel that way.
So yeah… it’s okay we’re here. Willow’s on my lap, and my team is getting ready to win the Cup in their inaugural year.
In fact, it’s more than okay that Willow’s in my lap right now.
I vaguely hear the announcer come back on the TV, but Willow is soft and warm and I know there’s no way the Vengeance will give up a two-goal lead with less than a minute left.
“Dominik?” Willow whispers in my ear.
“Yeah?” Settling my hands on her hips, I press our bodies together.
“I love you. You know that, right?”
“Right.”
“Is your plane all gassed up?”
“It should be,” I say. We hadn’t made any solid plans on when to leave.
“Let’s fly to Vegas tomorrow.”
My chin jerks inward, and I push her back slightly so I can see her face. Clear eyes stare back, filled with devotion. “Vegas?”
And then it hits me.
Vegas.
Land of the quickie weddings.
“Are you sure?” I ask as I wrap my arms tightly around her.
“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life,” she replies. On the TV, I vaguely hear the buzzer go off, signifying the end of the game.
The Arizona Vengeance are the champions.
And it looks like I’m about to get married.
Life could not be any more perfect.