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I may or may not have taken a liking to the kid as well, and may or may not be bringing extra dinner and extra treats for him to eat while he’s working.
And it’s quite possible I send extra home with him for his mom.
I stop at the edge of the mat and drop down to sit and watch the training session.
Watching Ringer work is the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. I thought he was hot before.Damn.
Barefoot and dressed only in tight compression shorts, his muscles and tattoos glisten with sweat as he bounces around the mats. Watching him train is the hottest thing to witness.
But this Ringer? The coach side of Ringer? He melts me.
I may not ever want kids of our own, but the way he teaches the kids with such care and thought. It’s amazing.
After watching Ringer and Carter spar for what feels like an hour, he finally breaks for water and smiles down at me. “Hey, Princess.”
“Hey, Mrs. M,” Carter calls.
“Carter, I told you to call me Lilah.”
He shrugs, blushing as he squeezes some water into his mouth before strapping his glove back on.
“Diner when you’re done?” I ask Ringer.
“Wanna take Carter?”
I nod, smiling at my husband.
I settle back on the mat with a clean towel as my pillow and get comfy while I wait for them to finish.
* * *
“Oh Jesus, I can see the balloons from here,” I groan as Ringer and I walk through the parking lot toward the gym where all of our family and friends are waiting for us.
Opening the door, every single person in our lives seems to be on the inside. Desert Outlaw family, bakery family, and now gym family, everyone is here to celebrate our anniversary.
“Happy Anniversary, baby,” Ringer says, looking down at me with a soft smile.
“I love you.” I press a kiss to his lips.
Ringer slips something into my hand and waits for me to see it.
I snap my head towards him. “What the hell is this?”
“A wedding band.”
I flash my ring at him. “I already have a wedding band.”
“Nah. That’s just your engagement set. This is our wedding, Princess. No matter how fucked up it is, this is our real wedding, and you deserve a real wedding band.”
I start laughing and work my small clutch open, pulling out a wedding band that I had custom-made for him. “Great minds think alike, I guess.”
I slip the tungsten band on his finger while he slips the diamond-encrusted band down over the top of my engagement set. With a kiss, the crowd, who must have been watching us like hawks, lets out loud cheers, and someone cranks the music up.
The night is perfect. We spend it dancing, just like we did in Vegas on our real wedding night. Except this time, I don’t drink enough to black out, and the next day, I remember every single detail of our wedding night.
epilogue two
Lilah
