“Yeah. I am. Come on.” I led her into the house and up the stairs. There was a cheer that went up in the backyard, and I guessed that Knox and Naomi had just made their post-wedding-sex entrance.
“Where are we going?” Lina asked.
“Gotta show you something,” I said, opening a door and pushing her inside.
“Oh my God. Is this your room?” she asked, taking in the small bed under the checkered comforter, the shelves of trophies, and other boyhood knickknacks.
“It was. I told Naomi she could redecorate, but I guess she hasn’t gotten around to it.”
I closed the door and locked it.
“Sex at your brother’s wedding?” she said coyly. “My, my, hotshot. I’m impressed.”
I unbuckled my belt and she wet her lips. That peek of pink tongue and wet lips was all it took for me to go hard.
“Been thinking a lot lately.”
“When have you had time to think? We spent most of the last twenty-four hours dodging bullets,” she teased.
“Every waking moment since I found you in my stairwell.” I nudged her until she sat down on my old bed.
“That’s a lot of thinking.”
“You’re a complicated woman. It takes a lot of thought and planning when it comes to figuring out how to convince you to make a life with me.” I slid my pants down my thighs.
Her eyes were on my groin and I felt the pulse and throb her attention ignited in my dick.
I hooked my thumbs in the band of my boxer briefs.
“If you think your cock—magnificent as it is—is going to count as some kind of grand gesture that proves you’re in this for the long haul, you’d better go back to the drawing board.”
She was already parting her knees on the edge of the mattress. I longed to push all that silk up around her waist and take her. To show her how much I needed her. To remind her how much she wanted me.
But first I had something else to do.
I turned around.
“I might be willing to accept your ass as a grand—”
Her words cut off as I shoved my underwear down.
“Nash!” she gasped.
I tried to peer over my shoulder at her to get a sense of what she was feeling. “Damn it, this was stupid. I should have gotten it someplace else. Somewhere I could see you.”
What had I been thinking? A woman like Lina deserved a midnight proposal on safari with fireworks and fucking lions. Not—
“Angel wings,” she whispered, stroking her fingers over the fresh ink.
I winced.
“Poor baby,” she teased. And then I felt her lips brush my ass cheek.
My cock responded accordingly.
“I can’t believe you got a tattoo for me. On your ass. You realize this makes it official. Your ass is mine. Every woman in town is going to be devastated. Because I’m absolutely telling them about it. In fact, I need my phone. I want a picture of this.”
“Angel,” I said.
“What?”
“It’s not done yet.”
“I can see that.”
“Someone had to get herself kidnapped in the middle of the inking. But that’s not what I meant.”
“What’s missing?” she asked.
“Our date. The happiest day of my life.”
She was silent so long, I turned to face her with my pants still around my thighs. “Knox got today’s date done over his heart. Family tradition,” I said.
Those beautiful brown eyes were glassy with tears. Her full, red lips trembled.
“Make a life with me, Angelina. You can be as scared about it as you want because I’m not. I’ll be strong enough for the both of us.”
She nodded and a single tear spilled over. I crouched down in front of her and thumbed it away, then moved in to kiss her.
But she stopped me. “I still get a ring though, right?” There was joy and mischief sparkling in her eyes, mixing with the tears.
I grinned. “Already have an appointment with the jeweler scheduled for tomorrow.”
She leaned in closer until our mouths were just a breath apart. “Then I guess I’d better schedule my appointment.”
“Your appointment for what?”
“My Nash tattoo. I was thinking maybe your badge might be appropriate.”
I surged up, pinning her to the mattress.
“I fucking love you, Angel.”
“I love you, Studly Do-Right,” she whispered, stroking a hand over my face.
A loud knock rattled the door, and for a second, I flashed back to my teenage years.
“Lina? Are you in there?” a voice called.
Lina jackknifed into a seated position. “Is that my mother?” she hissed.
“Shit.” I stood, frantically trying to pull my pants up.
“Lina? You in there? That Knock guy said you were probably up here.”
“Dad?” she squeaked, looking shell-shocked.
“Maybe they’re having sex,” her mother suggested from the hallway.
“Why do you have to say shit like that, Bonnie?” her dad said.
“Why are my parents here?” Lina demanded as she frantically straightened her dress.
“I forgot to tell you. I maybe kind of invited them…after I asked them for their permission to marry you…after I already proposed.”
She put her hands on my chest and looked into my eyes.
“Prepare to be smothered for the rest of your life.”
I was looking forward to it.
While you’re waiting for Things We Left Behind on September 5th, don’t miss Nash and Lina’s bonus epilogue here!
**If you are having any trouble tapping on the extra scene please type lucyscore.net/twhftlbonusepilogue into your phone or computer browser.**
AUTHOR’S NOTE TO THE READER
Dear Reader,
The more romance novels I write, the more convinced I am that loving someone is the bravest thing we can do in this world.
It’s not just falling for the broody police chief next-door. It’s the friends who show up with wine on your best and worst days. The nephew who can’t talk yet but melts your heart with a toothy smile. The sibling that always manages to make you laugh. The neighbor surprising you with fresh vegetables from their garden. The happy sigh of a good dog. The knowing looks that have become their own language between long-time lovers.
And sometimes it really is the small-town hero who makes you want to take a chance on getting your heart crushed.
The most important lesson Lina and Nash taught me is that the best kind of love is the one you are brave enough to give freely. Even knowing they could hurt you or disappoint you or break your heart, loving someone exactly as they are is the greatest gift you can ever give.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go hug Mr. Lucy and ask him to take me for emotional support tacos.
Xoxo,
Lucy
P.S. Lucian’s book? wipes sweat from forehead shoves computer into freezer to keep it from overheating
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Lucy Score is a New York Times, USA Today, Wall Street Journal, and #1 Amazon bestselling author. She grew up in a literary family who insisted that the dinner table was for reading and earned a degree in journalism. She writes full-time from the Pennsylvania home she and Mr. Lucy share with their obnoxious cat, Cleo. When not spending hours crafting heartbreaker heroes and kick-ass heroines, Lucy can be found on the couch, in the kitchen, or at the gym. She hopes to someday write from a sailboat, oceanfront condo, or tropical island with reliable Wi-Fi.