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“Yes,” I say, voice grave. “I just… Fuck, I just love you so much.”

What?

I didn’t plan on blurting it out like that, but holding it back has been like trying to stop a tidal wave by standing in the shallows and spreading my hands out.

She gasps and looks up at me, her gorgeous eyes widen with shock. “Did I just hear you right?”

I let out a carnal snarl and smooth my hands over her hips, pulling her as close to me as we can get, eager for there to be no space between us at all. “I love you, Zoey. I loved you from the moment I read your letter. The moment I read those words, it’s okay, it was like you changed something inside of me… something I didn’t even know was there. So yes, I love you, I fucking love you.”

I feel a smile spreading across my cheeks, not a smirk or a wolfish baring of my teeth, but a truly glowing smile.

“I love you too,” she whimpers, as the elevator door dings and opens onto her new art studio. “So much.”

I lean down and kiss her firmly, tasting all the love flowing between us, all the affection and hope for the future.

“I’m so glad you feel the same,” I say, voice shivering with a feral tone. “I’ve been driving myself crazy wondering if you would.”

“Ditto.” She giggles adorably. “It’s like a Mexican standoff, isn’t it? Shoot first and miss and you’re screwed.”

I laugh, nodding. “You’ve hit the nail on the head there, my little artist. And speaking of art…”

I take her hand and lead her into the room. It’s a large space, unfurnished as of yet, with two doors off to the side, one leading to a coffee room and the other to the bathroom.

“What is this?” she murmurs.

“It’s your art studio, if you want it,” I tell her passionately.

She walks ahead of me, looking around with wonder blazing through every inch of her. I lock my eyes on her, wondering if this is a step too far, wondering if…

But no, I won’t spend my life with my woman wondering.

I love her. She loves me. We’re going to build a family and a future together.

We’re going to be together forever.

“You deserve a place to work on your art,” I say, falling to one knee as I reach into my pocket. “Because you’re incredibly talented, Zoey. You’re beautiful and you’re kind and you’re caring and there are so many reasons, so many hundreds and thousands of reasons why I love you. And that’s why…”

She turns as I trail off, a wicked smile on my face.

I know she’s going to chide me about leaving my words unfinished like she always does.

But then she sees me on my knee and she gasps, bringing her hands to her mouth, tears springing into her eyes.

I open the ring box and show her the diamond. It’s full and glittering and bright, but it’s not gaudy. I’ve gone for fullness and elegance, just like my woman, and if her expression is anything to go by, I’ve succeeded.

“Zoey Baker,” I say, my heart drumming with all the love in the world. “Will you marry me?”

This is the moment I’ve played dozens of times in my head ever since I bought the ring, rehearsing it over and over again.

For a moment she just stares at me. Something in my stomach drops heavily, an evil voice whispers that I’ve gone too far, just like I feared.

But then she nods and lets out a shivering scream.

“Yes, yes, yes,” she cries, throwing herself forward.

“Yes?” I yell as joy barrels through me.

“Of course it’s a yes. You said you fell in love with me when you read my letter. Well, I fell in love with you when I wrote it.”

I stand and take the ring from the box, my hands trembling with happiness as I slide the ring onto her finger.

She holds it to the light, tilting her head at me as it glimmers. “What do you think? Does it suit me?”

I laugh as unbridled happiness moves through me, replacing the anxiety that marked me before. “It’s perfect, just like you.”

Our lips magnetize, without our say-so, fusing together as though driven by the burning and bright love flaring between us.

“I love you so much,” she gasps between the kiss, pleasure coursing between us.

“I love you too. And I always will. Forever, my little artist. Forever.”

Epilogue

One Month Later

Zoey

I sit in a garden chair watching as Zack swims up and down the pool, his powerful body making the water splash around him, glittering with each stroke. It’s difficult to take my eyes off his hulking form as I stare, watching the water cascade over his rippling back and make his muscles shimmer.

My mind drifts over the past few weeks as I take a sip of my iced tea.

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