Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 78416 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 392(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78416 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 392(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
I shake my head at my own thoughts and sigh.
A few weeks ago, when I was physically well enough to go back to work I went to meet a client for a showing and completely broke down. I couldn’t even get out of my car, and it was so bad that Maxim had to come pick me up and drive me home. It was then that I realized that I wasn’t mentally prepared to step back into a house that wasn’t mine with people I didn’t know. After that situation, I found a therapist to talk to and they assured me that my fear was normal. They also explained that it would be wise to take a step back from my business until I had a chance to deal with the emotional trauma I suffered from what happened.
I didn’t want to, really didn’t want to but knowing it’s necessary in order to get better I’ve stepped away from anything to do with selling houses and have been helping Maxim with stuff he doesn’t have time to do especially now that Malo has been so focused on Panic Pants. Really I don’t mind it at all, it’s giving me something to do and I know with baby steps I’ll get back to selling houses eventually.
Feeling eyes on me I look up and find Maxim in the doorway watching me then notice a piece of fabric in his hand.
“Everything okay?”
“I have something to show you outside,” he says and I glance to the window and see that it’s dark, not really surprising since we are heading into fall.
“I’m almost done with this, can you give me five minutes?” I ask him and he shakes his head then steps around the desk to where I am.
“I can finish that up tomorrow.”
“Or I can finish it tonight, I just have a few girls left.” I start to spin the chair around to face him when he comes to stand behind me but he stops me before I can.
“No more talk about work.” The piece of fabric in his hands comes down in front of my face.
“What are you doing?”
“You’ll see.” He places it over my eyes then I feel him tie it into a knot at the back of my head. “Up you go.” He helps me stand then starts to lead me out of the office.
“Don’t let me fall,” I hold onto him tightly as he leads me blindfolded through the house.
“I would never let you fall,” he assures me right before he scoops me up into his arms bridal-style, causing me to shriek. “I got you.”
“Okay.” I hold onto his neck, then feel him come to a stop right before he maneuvers me to open the sliding door leading outside. And I know it’s the door leading outside, since I have spent almost every day by the pool or in it since my stitches were removed a week ago.
“What are we doing?”
“You’ll see.” He rights me, placing my feet on the ground, then he turns me away from him so that my back is against his chest. When I feel his fingers at the knot tied at the back of my head, my heart pounds with anticipation. “Surprise,” he whispers against my ear, and I blink my eyes open, seeing twinkle lights wrapped around the base of each tree, along the fence, and arched across the glowing pool. It looks like a fairy garden under the dark star-filled night sky. A lot like his yard in Vegas only better because it’s here where I get to enjoy it every evening.
“This is… wow.” I turn to face him, and my heart drops into my stomach. Between his thumb and index finger is the most beautiful ring I have ever seen in my life—a large oval-shaped diamond surrounded by smaller stones.
“I thought about waiting to ask you to marry me.” He takes my left hand and brings it up between us. “But after everything that has happened, I don’t want to put it off.” He slides the ring down over my knuckle. “I also don’t want to wait a year to make you my wife.”
“Are you proposing, or are you telling me we’re getting married?” I ask, looking up into his eyes.
“Do I need to tell you we’re getting married, or will you just say you’ll marry me?”
“You know… you have a really bad tendency of ruining important moments with your highhandedness,” I inform him, even though I really don’t care. I love that he’s always so sure about everything that he never makes me question how he feels or what he wants. I love him more than I thought I could love someone.
“Are you going to marry me?”
“Can you ask me properly?” I snap, then I gasp as his mouth crashes down on mine for a kiss that is so deep it takes my breath away.