And not only did Willow attend with me every single week, but it never failed that at least some—if not all—of her family tagged along too.
It had been two months since she moved in with me—I’d wanted it to happen a whole hell of a lot sooner, but she’d claimed she needed to pack and put her house on the market and all that, so I’d given her that time she needed, but not a single day more. I had to admit, there was something totally addictive about coming home to the same woman night after night. Especially when that woman was Willow.
Another change over the past few months was her car. Even after we got together in a very official capacity, she’d still fought me tooth and nail on that goddamn car. So I’d done what any reasonable, level-headed boyfriend would do.
I’d sold it without her knowing and drove her to a dealership on our way to dinner one night. Sneaky and underhanded? Maybe, but my woman was now in a safe, new Ford Explorer with airbags that actually worked, so as far as I was concerned the end justified the means. As a bonus, I got to hold it over her head, because she loved her new car so much more than that older piece of shit.
The back door opened, letting out the loud, raucous noises coming from inside, and I turned from my perch resting against the banister of the back deck as Jon came out to join me.
“Figured you’d want a fresh one,” he said, extending a beer bottle my way.
I set the empty one I’d been holding down and took the one he offered. “Thanks.”
Just like my little sister had done months ago, Jon came up beside me and mimicked my stance, looking out at the view past Scooter and Caroline’s backyard. I let the silence linger, knowing he’d come out for a reason, but not wanting to rush him.
“You know, these Sunday dinners really are something else,” he finally said. “Back when Colleen was alive, we did something like this every week with our girls and their families.”
“Glad you like it, Jon. We all love having you guys here.” And that was the truth.
Scoot and Jon got along great, Caroline loved having a houseful of screaming kids, and the Thorne sisters had no problem joining in with my own to give me shit just for fun. They were chaotic, but they were great.
“Colleen used to worry about Willow. She was so worried our shy little wallflower would end up alone because she was too scared to take any chances. Not a doubt in my mind she’s lookin’ down right now, smiling that her girl finally found the man who’d make it safe for her to break out of her shell.”
He turned to look at me, and I rasped, “Means the world you think I’m that guy. All I want to do is make her happy.”
He shifted to look out at the view from the backyard, and I knew whatever he was gearing up to say was going to be heavy, but I didn’t feel my muscles tense or my gut churn like it would have in the past. That was all thanks to Willow. She balanced me. She fed that adrenaline rush I sometimes craved. Now everything in my life was great.
“I know you guys are still new, and I don’t want you to think I’m putting any pressure on you, son. I want you to know upfront that’s not my intention at all, but I don’t know how many good days I have left. So if you think my girl’s the one, and you see a forever with her—which I suspect you do, because you look at her the same way I used to look at my Colleen—I want you to ask for my blessing while I’m still of sound mind enough to give it to you.”
“Jon—”
He stood tall and turned to look at me. “I’m not sayin’ you have to ask her in a week, or a month, or hell, even a year. I’m just asking that if you think it’s a possibility, ask me now. Just in case. This is a memory I want to have for as long as my mind will let me.”
I smiled, and at the sight of it, some of the tension melted from his shoulders. “Jon, I love your daughter more than I’ve ever loved anyone in my whole life. She’s it for me. She’s my forever. I bought the ring three weeks ago and planned to ask you when she wasn’t around, but this seems as good a time as any.” The rest of the tension drifted from him, and he stood tall, shoulders square and head held high and proud. “I swear to you that I’ll treat her like the most precious thing in my life, mainly because she is and always will be. I’ll be good to her. I’ll break my back to make her happy, and I’ll give her a family as big or small as she wants. So do I have your blessing to ask your daughter to marry me?”
He pulled in a stuttered breath and looked off to the side while clearing his throat and blinking his eyes rapidly. Finally, he gathered himself enough to look back at me. “Depends on one thing.”
Well I hadn’t been expecting that. “What’s the one thing?”
His lips spread in a shit-eating grin. “Take me out for a ride in that Chevelle of yours.”
My head fell back on a bark of laughter. “That’s something I can do.” I held my hand out to him. “So we have a deal?”
His palm clapped against mine, and we shook. “We have a deal, son. And just so you know, I couldn’t have picked a better man for my girl if I’d sent out for one in a catalog.”
The door squealed open just as we broke apart, and Willow’s head poked out. “Hey guys.” She gave us a curious look. “What are you two talking about out here?”
I moved away from her father and pulled her to me, brushing my lips against hers when she tipped her head back to give me access. “All good things, mouse. All good things.”
Truer words had never been spoken. Because I was going to make this woman mine forever in the very near future.
My mouse.
My wallflower.
The woman who changed me with one look without even knowing it, taking a man made of stone and giving him the kind of happiness he never expected.
Hell yeah, everything with us was so much better than good. And it was only going to get better.
The End.
Thank you so much for reading!
Keep going for a sneak peek at Ravage.
Enjoy an Excerpt from Ravage
You may not know this, but years ago, before Redemption was even a twinkle in my eye, I originally introduced Stone Hendrix in a totally different series.
If your curious to see how his journey started (namely, his time with Lyla and Will), check out the excerpt below.
Chapter 1
Lyla
Thirteen years old
I could still remember the very first time I laid eyes on Mason “Mace” Keller. The way my heart threatened to beat out of my chest, the goose bumps that broke out across my skin, the blood rushing to my cheeks and setting them on fire. That day, that moment, had been burned into my brain and would remain there for the rest of my life.
I’d been ten years old at the time, and everything in my little world changed the moment he stepped into it. At that age, my sense of romance was inflated thanks to the standards set by every princess movie ever made.
I firmly believed that a handsome prince would appear one day and I’d fall madly in love. I went as far as to act out elaborate wedding ceremonies with my Barbie and Ken—when I still played with dolls, of course. I wore the cheap metal ring I got out of the machine at the grocery store on my left hand like a badge of honor, even after it turned my skin green and the plastic diamond fell out of the setting. I was totally going to be Drew Barrymore in Ever After, just without the evil stepmother and all that jazz.