by Amy Andrews
If she read it and didn’t get it, he didn’t know what he would do. But right now it was all he had.
He hit send.
…
CC opened the email the following morning. She’d put an offer in on a house yesterday afternoon and had finally found a PA for Wade who checked all the boxes. She was feeling damn pleased with herself. So pleased that when the email was there waiting for her in her inbox, she didn’t even hesitate to open it. She’d been expecting pages from him for a while now and had been going to email him about the PA situation later today, anyway.
She was definitely better than when he’d been here two weeks ago. His visit had been a wakeup call. To stop feeling sorry for herself. To get on with her life. Because whether she loved him or not, Wade was Wade. Adored, revered, desired.
And he didn’t love her.
His email was brief, and she quashed the disappointment as she read it.
CC, book is finally done. Would appreciate your feedback soonest.
Wade.
CC almost laughed out loud at the brevity of the email. Typical Wade. What else had she expected? A dear CC? Maybe a warm regards, or a best wishes at the end? She supposed she was lucky he hadn’t signed off WC.
That was something, right?
Still, whatever was lacking in the email didn’t detract from the fact that the book was apparently done? Finished. Jeez Louise…he must have written around the clock. She’d been expecting to get dribs and drabs of pages, and when none had arrived she’d assumed his writer’s block was continuing.
Obviously not.
Would appreciate your feedback soonest. Of course he would. Wade always did think his needs were more important than anyone else’s. But she was exceedingly curious, and she did have a free day…
CC got up, made herself a green tea—she was down to one Red Bull a day with lunch now—and placed it beside the bed. Crossing to the coffee table, she grabbed the writing pad and pen lined up neatly next to the remote controls. She headed back and crawled on top of her made bed, dragging her Mac onto her lap and settling against the pillows.
She planned to read from start to finish and make notes as she went. With any luck she’d have a full set of suggestions to send to Wade by some time tomorrow. Maybe the next day, depending on how much work she felt was needed on the new material.
Taking a steadying breath, she clicked on the attachment.
Four hours later, CC was a total wreck. She’d made two pages of notes—small things, mainly, from the three-quarters of the book she’d already read. But all her note-taking had stopped from chapter forty-nine on. The chapter that began—
The first time I saw Cecilia Morgan, she was kicking her then-boss in the testicles for backing her into a corner and trying to kiss her. I fell in love that day. I was just too much of an idiot to know it.
He loved her. Wade Carter loved her. He’d loved her since that day?
That first day when she’d been sure she’d never be employed again, given that kicking men in the testicles tended to be a career-limiting move. But he’d whisked her away to the bar instead, brushing her off, pressing a glass into her shaking hands, and offered her a job.
A good one. With more money than she’d ever seen in her life and amazing perks as well.
He’d loved her since then?
Her head was spinning. With every word he’d written he’d built a picture of his regard and affection and, yes, his love. She’d smiled and laughed and cried at his words, touched by the depth and emotion in his prose.
Wade Carter may be a kickass ex-pro quarterback with three Super Bowl rings to his name, but he could write the hell out of a love story.
All CC had wanted since her ninth grade high school trip was to live by the beach where the waves and the sand were forever and constant and people were happy all the time.
It didn’t matter anymore. Now the only place she wanted to be was by Wade’s side. Even in a god-awful white elephant of a house in ass-end Colorado.
Shutting the Word document, she navigated quickly to her web browser and bought a ticket to Denver.
…
CC pulled up outside Wade’s house at just past eight in the evening. All it needed was some Spanish moss hanging from the big old tree in the front and it’d be the full antebellum nightmare. In Colorado. Crazy.
But hell, she’d missed this place.
Her legs wobbled as she stepped out of the rental car. Any other time she’d have put it down to the two-hour drive from Denver, but they weren’t that kind of wobbly.
They were huge moment ahoy wobbly.
She had no idea if he was home or not, but there were lights on inside so she hoped it was a good sign. By the time she got to the big front door, her heart was belting so hard against her ribs she could barely hear herself knock.
The door seemed to take forever to open, and her palms sweated, which was utterly ridiculous. Her palms had never sweated in her entire thirty-two years. Knowing her luck, she was probably going into spontaneous menopause now that it looked like she might finally be catching a relationship break.
She practically leapt out of her skin when the door did open. And then it just about peeled off, along with her clothes, as Wade stood there all rumpled and tired and haggard. He was shirtless, his jeans hanging low on his hips, his three-day growth more scruff than whiskers.
Dear God. She’d missed him. His face and his hair and sweet Jesus, that chest. She wanted to launch herself at him and never let go. But if she touched him now she wouldn’t say the things that needed to be said, seek the clarifications that needed to be sought.
“Cecilia,” he whispered.
The ragged note in his voice caused her to sway a little, and CC grabbed the doorframe to steady herself. Christ, it was this house. She was going to go the full Scarlett O’Hara and swoon all over him any moment.
“You love me, Wade William Rhett Carter?”
He gave a slow smile, which wrapped itself firmly around her ovaries. He still looked tired, but he looked sexy tired now. “I do. And you love me.”
CC nodded. “I do.”
He flat-out grinned then, not looking remotely tired suddenly as his hand slid up the doorframe and he leaned in a little closer. “Okay then.”
“And you want to be in a relationship with me. A monogamous relationship with me? Forever? Because I deserve forever, Wade, and I’m not interested in any other version.”
“You do.” He nodded slowly, his gaze meshing firmly with hers, and there was so much honesty there she couldn’t look away. “You do deserve forever, and so do I. We deserve forever with each other, and I’m not interested in any other version, either. I know it’s hard being in the limelight like I am, but believe me, Cecilia, there will only ever be you. I want to marry you and have babies with you and make you happy for the rest of your life.”
CC’s throat constricted. She believed him. Sincerity blazed from his eyes and vibrated through his body.
“Where will we live?”
“I don’t care. In California or in Denver or in Credence. Wherever you want to live is where I want to be.”
“Maybe we can spend time in each?”
He nodded. “Done.”
God, he was saying all the right things, but she needed to be sure. “I’m going to have my own bank account and checkbook. I’m going to pay the bills.” Well, she paid his bills anyway, but CC was pretty sure he knew what she meant. “And fix the fences.”
“Of course.” He smiled. “I don’t want to walk in front of you, CC.” He reached for her hand and entwined his fingers with hers. “I want us to walk together, side by side.”
Dear Lord…she wanted that, too. “I’m not going to be easy, you know. I’m not one of those yes-women you seem to like so much.”
He chuckled, and CC swore she spontane
ously ovulated. “This is not news to me.”
“I’m Scarlett. Not Melanie. If you want a Melanie, you should tell me right now and I’ll go.”
“I don’t want a Melanie.”
“You should. Your life would probably be easier.”
He laughed then. “I have no doubt it would be. But for some crazy reason…I only want you. I love you, Cecilia.”
CC swallowed against the tightness in her throat. She was starting to tremble now. “I love you, too,” she whispered.
He grinned then. A Super Bowl touchdown kind of grin. “Good.”
He let go of her hands, and before she knew what he was even thinking, he’d swooped her off her feet and up into his arms. He kissed her, and she kissed him back, drowning in the smell and the taste of him and the glorious promise of a future in his arms.
They were both breathless when he finally pulled out of the kiss, and CC was glad he was holding her because her bones had completely dissolved.
“Mmmm,” he murmured, his lips wet, his eyes satisfyingly glazed. He moved then, kicking the front door shut with his foot, and CC yelped a little and grabbed him around the neck as he strode into the house with her, crossing the lobby to the foot of the sweeping staircase.
“Hold on tight, baby,” he said as he paused at the bottom. “I’m going up.”
CC loved it when he called her Cecilia. When he called her baby? It melted her into a pile of mush. So instead of saying don’t be ridiculous you’ll break your back, she clung tighter and stared into his eyes as he effortlessly traversed the staircase to the top.
“Where now?”
“Now?” He shot her a wicked smile. “Now, I’m going to throw you on the nearest bed and then I’m going down until all of Credence can hear you screaming my name.”
CC did not protest. In fact, it was her first lesson in that thing he did with his tongue, and she did scream—loud.
“I think they heard you in Kansas,” Wade muttered half an hour later, his breath warm on her belly as he kissed his way up, a smile in his voice. “Give me some recovery time, and I’ll make them hear you in Texas.”
CC laughed. Smug. The man was getting so freaking smug. But he was all hers. All the time.
She could live with that.
Epilogue
Four months later. Carter family farm.
If it had been anyone else’s wedding, any other bride, Wade would have been muttering about the ridiculousness of a hundred-pound hog with a pink ribbon around its neck and an eighteen-month-old Border collie with a blue ribbon around its neck walking down the aisle together.
But this was his wedding and his wife, and if she’d wanted a mariachi band and jugglers, she could have had them. She’d already turned their Credence house—one that didn’t need any more attention drawn to it—into an indoor petting zoo, with several piglets at varying stages of bottle-feeding, an orphaned baby goat, and two fluffy bunnies she’d assured him were both girls—until they’d had babies.
And now there were eight fluffy bunnies.
But that didn’t matter, either. All he wanted was his ring on her finger. And the fact it had taken four months to finally get here meant nothing right now.
Wade was a patient man. Unlike Wyatt, who had been like a cat on a hot tin roof for the month it had taken his mother and Jenny to organize their wedding. He smiled at Wyatt now while he waited for CC at the end of the aisle. His brother smiled back, but all Wyatt really had eyes for was Jenny and her very slight baby bump.
Henry came down the aisle next, looking very country-kid in his jeans and vest and cowboy boots, a ten-gallon hat pulled low on his head, throwing rose petals on the ground from a small basket. Jenny beamed at her son, as did Wade’s mom and dad, who’d made it their mission in life to spoil Henry rotten.
The barn looked a picture. When Ronnie had suggested it for the ceremony, Wade had been doubtful, but he’d been wrong. It was big enough for all the guests, including the ones with giant celebrity egos, and with the long side doors open, crisp November sunshine flooded the space.
Suddenly, CC appeared on her brother’s arm in a long, flowing dress, and Wade’s breath stuck in his throat, his chest too tight for his ribs. It was a simple design—no frills, no lace, no fuss—but given that her preference had been jeans, the dress was a revelation.
He already couldn’t wait to get her out of it.
And he thanked God for her douchebag ex-boss with the grabby hands. His loss had been Wade’s gain that day in a Denver hotel lobby, even if it had taken Wade almost six years to get a clue.
Six years of professionalism, bickering, and friendship.
Best. Foreplay. Ever.
…
Several hours later, CC’s head was spinning from the whirlwind of the day. She wouldn’t have thought it was possible to be this happy, but her cheeks literally ached from smiling. And still, the best was to come. If she could only get a spare second with her husband, she was sure he’d agree. She’d been hugging this information close since this morning, and she was practically blowing a gasket keeping it to herself.
Spying her superhot husband in his sexy tux with a bunch of ex-jocks, she excused herself from one of Ronnie’s crazy Southern relatives, as Cal called them. If she didn’t do it now, they’d be sitting down to their meal and a bunch of speeches and she probably would blow her gasket.
Picking up her dress, she pressed through the crowds, ignoring anyone trying to gain her attention—she was on a mission and she was not going to be stopped.
“Ah,” Wade said as he saw her approaching. “My wife, gentlemen.”
There was general good-natured teasing as CC joined them, slipping her arm around Wade’s waist. One of them shook his head and said, “Man, anyone tell you you’re punching way above your weight?”
Wade dropped a kiss on her temple. “All the time.”
CC laughed and said, “Excuse me, gentlemen, but I’d like to borrow my husband for a moment, if that’s okay?”
She didn’t wait for their permission, just slipped her hand into his and tugged.
“I hope you’re taking me somewhere to have your way with me,” Wade said close to her ear as he followed.
CC smiled. “I think you’re going to want to see this.”
“Mrs. Carter, are you not wearing any panties under that big ol’ gown?”
She laughed. “That’s for me to know and you to find out, Mr. Carter.”
Finally, CC rounded a corner and they were blissfully alone, the sun slowly sinking over the fields to the west. “I’ve got something for you.”
He smiled and pulled her close, nuzzling her neck. “And I’ve got something for you.”
CC shivered at the brush of his mouth before pushing gently against his chest. There would be time for distractions later. She fished down the front of her dress.
“Mmm.” Wade nodded appreciatively. “I like where this is going.”
“Trust me, you’re going to love it.” CC produced the test stick she’d shoved down there this morning after she’d changed into her gown. Why didn’t wedding dresses have pockets? “In fact, you’re going to be over the moon.”
Her hand shook as CC passed the stick over, her heart beating loud in her ears. He took it and, for a second, looked at it uncomprehendingly. Then his expression changed as he stared at the small pink positive sign in the test window and realization dawned.
“Congratulations, Wade,” CC whispered around a sudden lump in her throat. “You’re going to be a daddy.”
He smiled, tentatively at first, a little disbelievingly, looking at CC, then back at the stick, then at her again. Then he was grinning and laughing and then he bent her over backward and kissed the hell out of her until CC was breathless and half-crazed with lust.
“Thank you,” he said as he righted her.
CC�
��s heart ached in her chest, she was so damn happy. “Your turn to be left tackle now.”
“Yeah.” He nodded. “It is. And I’m going to be the best damn left tackle there ever was.”
Then he picked her up and spun her around and around and around as the last golden rays of the day blended into night.
Want more?! Click here and download one of Entangled’s bestselling books for FREE!
Acknowledgments
It’s taken a village to raise this book, and I’d like to thank everyone who had any little hand in it along the way.
Firstly, my thanks must go to the good folks of Entangled Publishing for all the behind-the-scenes magic. I know this book went through multiple hands and a lot of backing and forthing was done on the cover, as well as making sure this book got onto as many shelves as possible, and I thank you all! Most special thanks to Liz, who not only went to bat for this book, but who drove me out to eastern Colorado so I could get a real feel for my little fictitious town.
Thanks to Robyn Rychards, who read this book from cover to cover, checking it for American-isms, Colorado-isms, and NFL-isms. This rugby girl did not want to screw up the gridiron, so her input was invaluable and any mistakes are my own! It was fabulous meeting you, Robyn, in Denver, and I hope we meet again.
To Harper Kincaid—who I love to pieces—thanks for kicking around titles with me in the early stages, and my dearest Jane Porter, who gave me some useful information about housing prices in SoCal.
Thanks as always goes to my husband, Mark, who keeps me supplied with cups of tea or glasses of wine depending on how well the book is going. He did not fall in love with a writer, but considers himself blessed to be married to one. Nor did he want to pack up and move hundreds of kilometers away to the ocean. But he did it for me. And for that alone, I will love him forever.
And lastly, thanks to the two special women in my life who’ve known me the longest and who cheer every success and are there to pour wine for every setback. They are my absolute rocks. Thanks, Ros. Thanks, Leah.
