Page 87 of Recovering Ivy

“Of course, I was. I didn’t know where you were, who took you, if you were hurt. I’ve never been so fucking scared in all my life. I wouldn’t know what to do if I lost you. I might as well die right alongside you. My life does not work if you’re not in it.”

“You saved me.”

“No, Ivy, you saved me, and every morning when I wake up and you’re lying next to me, you save me all over again. You make me better, stronger. I’m nothing without you.”

“Will you marry me?”

“What?” Now it was my turn to stare at her in shock.

“Marry me. I want to be your wife. I want to wake up every morning next to you. I wasn’t living until the night I met you in the bar. Hell, I wasn’t even existing. I was going through the motions because I had to. I want this, us, a future with you. I promise you, I’ll be a good wife to you…”

“You better bet your ass you’re gonna be my wife.”

“So that’s a yes?”

“That’s a we’re getting married.”

“You really won’t answer, will you?” She smiled.

I couldn’t believe after everything that had happened over the last eight hours Ivy was in my arms, smiling. I closed my eyes and thanked God for my good fortune.

“Would you please give me this, Mr. Bossy?” I looked down at the precious cargo in my arms and realized I couldn’t deny her, even if it meant letting her propose to me in the back of a car with my brother and Jaxon in the SUV, too.

“Yes, Ivy, I will marry you.”

I heard Jaxon and Linc chuckle from the front seat before Ivy placed her hand on my cheek, pulling my attention back to her.

“Where’s Lance?”

Fuck. Here it was. The moment of truth. How quickly life could change. One second, I’m flying high at Ivy’s desire to get married and now, she very well may take her words back. I wanted to tell her there were no take backs, but she deserved to know who she’d just asked to be her husband.

“He’s at the motel in the bathtub, either still bleeding out or dead.”

“How?”

“It was me. I killed him.”

Ivy shook her head. “No, I mean, how did he die?”

“Does it matter?” When she nodded, I continued. “I cut his dick off after I gave him one hell of a beating.”

“Is that how you got these?” she asked, lifting our entwined hands and inspected my bruised knuckles.

“Yes.” She brought our hands to her lips and kissed each one.

“Thank you.”

She dropped our hands back down and rested her head on my chest.

“And my mother?”

“She’s next.”

“Good.”

I hadn’t realized I’d been holding my breath until my lungs burned in protest. She hadn’t pushed me away, she thanked me. I hoped like hell she’d feel the same way tomorrow after a good night’s rest and some distance.

“I love you, Zane.”