Read FORCE: A Bad Boy Sports Romance Online
Authors: Vivian Lux
Chapter Thirty-Five
Candace
No giant, grand gestures. No tearful confessions. Just my man and me, hand in hand, saying ‘I love you’ like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Because it was.
The romance I dreamed of was nothing compared to the reality I lived.
It was better.
Ian held my hand firmly, and I let him lead me slowly into his parents’ house. “Aren’t you going to give me the grand tour?” I asked him, smirking.
He caught the gist of my meaning, and gave me a wolfish smile. “I know how much you like tours,” he said. “But there’s something I wanted to show you first.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yup, just, uh—give me one second. Stay here.”
I narrowed my eyes at him, but he ignored me. “Hey Mom, can I ask you something in the kitchen?”
“Whatever you need, baby,” she cooed, her eyes still bright.
Coach Randall and I both stared at their backs as they disappeared slowly around the corner. “Any idea what this is about?” Coach asked me.
I shook my head. “No clue.”
“He sort of just does what he wants, doesn’t he?”
I nodded and tried not to betray just how much I loved that about him.
I heard a drawer open, and a few more soft voices, and then Ian emerged with his mother, looking calm and collected. His mother, on the other hand, was wiping her eyes.
“Hey, Candy, come out back with me a sec.” He reached out his hand, and I immediately went to stand by him, acting as his other crutch. We negotiated the cluttered living room carefully and emerged out onto a back deck and into the weak sunshine of an early April day.
“What are we looking at?” I asked.
“We’re not quite there yet. Follow me.” I handed him his other crutch and he took off, loping across the yard with big, swinging strides. I rushed behind him, certain he was going to fall over and break his knee all over again.
“The woods?” I asked incredulously.
“It’s not far!” Ian bellowed. He had that single-minded focus thing of his going on. When all that mattered to him was his goal.
He was a beautiful, stubborn, ass.
“If you fall over a root and kill yourself, I’ll never speak to you again,” I huffed, shoving my hands in my pockets. Supposedly it was spring, but you’d never know it. My breath puffed out in little white clouds.
Ian stopped just on the top of a rise and leaned his crutches against a tree. I went to him and helped him hop around to a sitting position.
That’s when I realized we were overlooking a small pond.
“What’s this?” I asked, delighted. There was the smell of earth and moss in the air, letting me know that in spite of the cold, things were starting to thaw. I took in a deep lungful.
Ian looked out, his face full of too many feelings at once. “When Coach Randall moved us out here, I found this place by accident. I used to skate out here.” He cleared his throat. “Remember the night we met?”
I laughed. “Of course I do.”
“Remember when I said I’d teach you how to skate?”
“I do. I couldn’t believe you knew how.”
He smiled. “Well, I’m going to have to learn again.” He cleared his throat and shifted, reaching into his back pocket. “But once I do, I want to take you here. Teach you like I said I would.” He looked out over the pond as the wind blew a silent ripple across the surface. “It’s not frozen now, though, so we’ll have to wait until it is.” He was toying with something in his fingers. “That’s what I want, more than anything, is to teach you to skate next winter, ah—so what I’m asking is—will you stick with me ‘til next winter?”
I laughed out loud. “Sure, Ian.”
He took my left hand in his. “Will you stick with me afterwards, too?”
I looked down and gasped as he slid the ring onto my finger.
“I’ve been thinking about this a lot,” he explained hastily. “And honestly, this wasn’t how I was planning on doing it. I wanted to win the Cup, call you out on the ice, and have everyone watch as I proposed. With the confetti coming down all around us when you said yes. But—it didn’t work out that way, and I can’t exactly get down on one knee these days.” He said, looking down, his lashes, shadowing his cheekbones. “And for a moment just now, I was really pissed about that. But I remembered that none of that mattered, really. What mattered was me asking, and you saying yes.”
I stared at him, openmouthed. “Are you asking me to marry you?”
“I am.”
“Where did you get this ring?”
He smiled. “From my mom. Just now, in the kitchen. I’ll buy you a real one, I swear, it’s just—I just really want you to wear my ring, Candace.”
“Oh my God, Ian.”
“Candace?”
“What?”
He took my face in his hands. “Will you fucking answer the question, please?”
I laughed out loud. “I’m sorry, what was the question again?”
He sighed through gritted teeth. “Will—you—marry—me?”
“You always tell me to say what I want.”
Disappointment fluttered across his face. “Okay,” he exhaled.
“Yes, Ian. Yes, I want to marry you.”
“Oh thank God,” he breathed, and kissed me so hard, it took my breath away.
Epilogue
Candace
(Seven months later)
I wove through the crowd, ducking the flying arms and lifted glasses, and grinning at the drunken cries of congratulations.
Being the only sober person at a wedding is both highly annoying and highly amusing.
Ian was still sitting at our table, right where I had left him. “Nice toast, baby.” He smiled at me once I made it unscathed to his side. He grinned, sliding his hand up my thigh. “How’re you feeling?”
“Hot as hell,” I complained, grabbing the wedding program and fanning myself. “This humidity is killing me.”
“Me, too,” Ian grinned. “I think that’s going to be what I’ll miss most when this is over,” he said, rubbing his hand over my round, taut belly. “We finally agree on the thermostat.”
“I guess pregnancy does have some perks, then!” I said. “For
you
anyway!” I sat down with a heavy grunt and stretched my puffy legs out. “How about you? How are you feeling?”
His lips pursed. The cast has only come off last month, but Ian had already thrown himself into a rigorous and, in my mind, completely insane regimen of physical therapy. I knew he wanted to be back on the rink as soon as he could, but this was utterly ridiculous.
He told me it was so he could chase our child when he or she was born, but there had to be something else driving him.
“I’m great,” he smiled. That smile was suspiciously smug.
“And now,” the deejay interrupted, “I’d like to invite all of the couples here today to surround Tim and Donna, as they have their first dance as man and wife.”
I leaned my head on Ian’s shoulder and smiled as I watched my radiant sister step out into the center of the dance floor with her brand-new husband.
“Well?” Ian said, nudging me.
“Well what?”
“You heard the man,” he said, taking my hand. “It’s time to get our asses out on the dance floor.”
“But—” I stammered, as he reached for his cane, “your knee.”
He stood up slowly and looked at me. “You want what I want, right, baby?”
I felt heat flash across my cheeks. “Always.”
“Well,
I
want to dance with the most beautiful woman in this room.”
“Can you, though?”
He raised his eyebrows in that haughty look I recognized from the bedroom. “Try me.”
I took his hand and followed the man I was going to marry, the father of my child, as he walked stiffly onto the dance floor.
Only then did I see that Donna had been watching us both intently. When we took our position, she looked over her shoulder and nodded at the deejay.
The song began to play.
I looked up at Ian. He stood strong, taller than he had in months. Then he slipped his hand around me to cup the small of my back and pull me tight to him.
Then he began to lead me.
A small, gentle swaying was all he could manage. But he
could
manage it, and that was the most important thing of all. I pressed my cheek securely against him, burying my face in his neck to hide my grateful tears.
“This is why I’ve been working so hard,” he explained, his breath blowing softly across my ear. “I was bound and fucking determined to dance with my wife-to-be.”
“Okay,” the deejay announced over the music. “Will all of the couples who have been married for one day or less, please leave the dance floor?”
The guests all clapped and whooped as Donna and Tim left the floor, hand in hand.
Ian held me closer.
“Will all couples who have been together one year or less, please leave the dance floor now?” the deejay announced.
Ian held me tighter.
“Ian, honey,” I whispered. “That’s us.” A few scattered couples left the dance floor around us.
He shook his head. “I’m not done dancing with you yet.”
The music swirled around us. I felt the heat rising from his body, smelled the soap on his skin, and, from somewhere inside of me, the strange, sliding sensation of our baby, surprisingly active for only four months along, rolling over between us. Of course he was a strong baby. He was Ian's son, after all.
“Will all of the couples who’ve been together ten years or less, please leave the dance floor?”
“Ian,” I patted him. “Honey.”
“I told you. I’m not done yet.”
“We haven’t been together long enough,” I told him. “We have to leave now, that’s the rule.”
He smiled down at me and pressed a kiss to my forehead. “Since when have you known me to follow the rules?”
I grinned. He was right, of course. He was the complete opposite of me, and opposites attract, after all.
“Will all the couples who’ve been together twenty years or less, please leave the dance floor?”
“Ian?”
“Will all the couples who’ve been together fifty years or less,” the deejay called, “please leave the floor.”
“He still hasn’t called us,” Ian insisted.
“Why, who are we?”
“The couple that will be together forever.”
THE END
Thank you so much for reading FORCE! Keep reading for a very special FOUR BOOK bonus, my SONS OF STEEL series, in its entirety
BOOKS BY VIVIAN LUX:
Sons of Steel Motorcycle Club:
Rockstar Romance
JAX: A Rockstar Stepbrother Romance
RANE: A Rockstar Stepbrother Romance
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Vivian Lux loves bad boys who are good men. She lives in Upstate New York with her model-hot husband and adorable twin boys. When she's not writing, she's reading. When she's not reading, she'd really love to be hiking, but is more likely dealing with the mountain of laundry that piled up while she was writing and reading.
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I love to hear from my readers.
Email me at
mailto:[email protected]
Friend me at
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