She stared up at him, her eyes glistening with tears. That speech had been so beautiful, she could barely believe it had come out of Beau Prescott’s mouth. Yet even though his voice shook when he spoke--and this was likely the first apology he’d made to anyone in over twenty years--there was just one more thing she had to see to truly believe he meant what he’d just said.
His eyes.
She tentatively reached up and removed his sunglasses.
He let her, but his arms stiffened around her waist as she took them off, which let her know he wasn’t wholly unaffected by what she was doing.
She found his beautiful silver eyes filled with tears, just like hers. And to her surprise, the dark pupils inside of them shrank under the lobby’s bright lights. “Have you gotten some of your sight back?”
“No, my eyes still respond to light, but they don’t relay a picture to my brain. That’s how my condition works.” She could almost see the effort it was taking for him to hold still under her scrutiny. “I decided to make a donation to UAB’s Department of Ophthalmology, and I’ve got a few other neurosurgeons looking at my file, but as far as I know, I’m going to be blind until further notice. I know that’s not ideal. But I promise, I won’t ever let it affect my ability to love you the way you deserve to be loved ever again.”
She regarded him for several seconds before saying. “You’re right. I don’t like you as much now as when you had your sight.”
His grip around his waist slackened. “Oh,” he said, the expression on his face going from hopeful to devastated to resigned in the space of a few seconds.
But then she said, “I like you way better. Way,
way
better.” She smiled up at him. “In fact, I love you, too, because now you’re perfect. Yes, Beau, I’ll marry you.”
And he smiled back, before pressing his mouth into hers. For a moment, the staring Alabamans in the lobby faded away, and it was only them returned to the love-struck teenagers they’d once been, but then she remembered, “Oh my God, Colin! We were supposed to meet to talk about him giving Ruth’s House a donation.”
But his arms only curled tighter around her and he said, “However much you were planning to ask him for, I’ll match it.”
“But—”
“Double it.”
“Beau—”
“Hell, you’re going to be my wife. I’ll give you my checkbook and let you decide on the amount.”
And lest she think he was actually trying to buy her again, he capped this declaration with the sweetest, most sincere, and most grateful kiss she had ever known.
EPILOGUE
TO THEIR CREDIT,
Josie and he did manage to make it out of the back of Mac’s car, before they consummated their reunion. But there was no way he was going to let them get all the way up the stairs, or even to a chair or couch. In fact, Beau considered himself a damn gentleman for closing the door all the way behind him, before he threw Josie down on the foyer’s floor.
She seemed desperate for him, too, because not only did she go down on her back without a word of protest, she unzipped his pants and pulled him out as she did so.
But despite his many changed ways, Beau still wasn’t the type to give his future wife what she wanted without making her work for it. “I don’t hear you narrating, darlin’,” he said, refusing to go along with her as she started to position his cock between her wet folds.
Below him, she went still. “Are you kidding me?” she asked.
“Not even a little bit,” he answered, pulling back slightly to make his point.
She let out a huff of air, but eventually said, “I’ve got your thing in my hand.”
“Josie…”
“I’ve got your dick in my hand—and wow! It just got harder as soon as I said that.”
“What’s your other hand doing?” he asked, trying to ignore the aching pain that came with wanting to be inside someone this much.
“It’s, um, on your butt, trying to get you to….”
He finally allowed himself to sink his cock into her, and savored the sound of her delighted moan when he was all the way inside and began moving. Now both her hands were on his ass. But soon after he started thrusting into her with long, hard jerks, he felt both of her hands thread themselves under his arms, before hooking around his shoulders from behind, as if she were trying to hold on.
“Tell me what you see,” he said.
“From this position, just my hands on your shoulders.”
“Describe them to me.”
And he could hear the smile in her voice when she said, “Well, the right one is just my plain old hand, but the left one has a big honking diamond on it.”
His diamond. The one he’d put on her in the back of Mac’s car when he realized he’d forgotten to propose to her with it.
He let out a strangled groan and pushed into her even harder, making sure he hit her clit with each stroke. More than anything, he wanted to please Josie, wanted to spend the rest of his life pleasing her.
His lips searched for and eventually found the thin scar at the top of her left breast. He promised himself that from then on, he’d kiss it every time they made love, for the rest of his life, as a reminder of what she had survived in order to make her way back to him.
And it felt like his heart would come out of his chest when she began bucking beneath him. She cried out his name, “Beau!” before she seized up and came with a happy sigh.
He was glad she was happy. He wanted that even more than he wanted his own orgasm, which came crashing over him a few minutes later. He released into her, already knowing after their upcoming wedding and the birth of their children, this moment would be forever seared in his mind as his most favorite.
But then it was interrupted by the sound of the front door opening. “Yoo-hoo, Beau, darling!” came his mother’s voice. “I’m finally….”
The thud of what sounded like one of his mother’s expensive purses hitting the floor came next. “…home.” Then: “Josie Witherspoon, I do not believe this is the job I hired you for.”
“Oh. My. God,” Josie said underneath him, obviously mortified.
But Beau just laughed. Not even this latest interruption could diminish the joy of finally winning the heart of Josie Witherspoon. His dream girl. His favorite ally.
His one and only love.
THE END
But wait! Who was that mystery woman? Find out in 2014, when Colin Fairgood finally gets a southern-fried love story of his very own.
If you liked this story, check out the other books in the 50 Loving State series:
Theodora Taylor reads, writes, and reviews in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. When not reading, writing, or reviewing, she enjoys going to the movies, daydreaming, and attending dinner parties thrown by others with her wonderful husband. Feel free to contact her at
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, and if you love IR romance as much as she does, check out her review blog at
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