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Relief melts me. Griff wasn’t quite so understanding when we first talked about this. “Thanks for listening. I’m glad you understand.”

“You’ve always had my back. Dry your eyes. It’s going to be all right. Hey, I think Gus booked another act to liven the place up in between your sets. Want to see?”

“I should go to the ladies’ room and try to repair my makeup. I’m sure I’m a mess and—”

“Three minutes,” Griff says in a tone that’s somewhere between persuasive and implacable.

I open my mouth to argue.

Then I hear the strains of a song I haven’t heard in exactly two weeks, since the crazy night I dragged Maxon out for karaoke.

I tense. Freeze. Look up at Griff.

He’s smiling, the expression between indulgent and superior. He knows what’s up.

“This is for the beautiful woman I stupidly hurt. I could tell her that I love her but those are just words, and she deserves more.”

My heart catches. I’d know that voice anywhere—in my sleep, a million miles from civilization, moments from death.

Maxon Reed.

With a gasp, I turn around and see him standing on the stage, holding the mic as the strains of the song continue to bloom in my ears.

He’s looking right at me, his face full of apology and adoration and something I’ve never seen there before.

Love.

My chest heaves. I put my hands over my heart as if I’m afraid it will fall at his feet again. Fresh tears come. Is he really here for me? And is he going to sing?

He is. He does. And his ability to carry a tune is just as terrible as it was the last time, only now he actually knows the words and he doesn’t seem to care what anyone else thinks. He’s singing his heart out—literally. And he’s looking right at me and as he vows that he needs me more than he wants me…and that he will want me—and only me—for all time.

My knees give out. I lose my composure completely.

Griff supports me with strong hands and guides me gently toward his brother. Maxon comes off the stage to meet me and wraps a supportive arm around me before he brushes his thumb over my cheek and wipes away my tears.

As the song’s instrumental interlude begins, he relinquishes the mic to the stand. Who cares if anyone sings the rest? All I want is the man in front of me.

I stare up at Maxon’s face, his green eyes caressing me with a heartfelt devotion I never thought I’d see from him.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs. “So sorry. What I did was wrong and thoughtless and not at all indicative of the fact that, in my heart, you’ll always come first.”

Words fail me. I know he means that, not because he’s spoken but because he’s now shown that he’ll sacrifice everything—his career-making deal, his need to best his brother, even his substantial pride—for me.

He loves me.

I sob into his chest.

He crooks a finger beneath my chin. “Hey, I’m here and I’m not going anywhere. Did you see what I’m wearing?”

I’m still hoping all of this means that he wants me back as I send him a watery gaze. “Wearing?”

What does that have to do with anything?

Then he shows me the timepiece on his arm. Black band, white face with Roman numerals. Cartier. “My grandfather’s watch. I realized I never wore it because I didn’t feel like a man of honor. You changed that. You changed me.”

I send him a teary smile of hope. I wish I could stop crying, but I’m an emotional girl.

I also admit when I’ve done something wrong, too. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you the truth about who I was and why I was here when we met. I meant well, I swear. I knew Griff needed you in his life…and I figured you needed him, too.”

“You’re right.” He waves my apology away. “If I had known you’d come for Griff, I wouldn’t have listened to any of the important things you had to say about changing my life and embracing love. That man didn’t deserve the truth—or you. But I’m going to spend the rest of my life being worthy of you because I love you.”

With a kiss on my forehead, he drops to one knee and pulls a box from his pocket, then flips the lid open. It’s a simple solitaire winking at me from a thin gold band. It’s striking and beautiful and perfect. Everything inside me stops.

He’s proposing?

I hold my breath. “Are you serious?”

He nods. “Marry me, sunshine. Please say yes. Nothing will ever again be more important to me than you. I promise.”

I know some women might hold out longer, want to make him suffer and squirm. They would want to make sure he learned his lesson thoroughly. But I think he has, and that’s not how I roll. I love him. Why would I risk losing him again by saying no? If he screws up, I’ll remind him of his priorities.

With a watery nod, I urge him to his feet. “Yes!”

“Oh, thank fuck.” He sounds relieved.

I laugh in joy. The audience claps and cheers uproariously. Then I cry again as he slips the ring on. It hugs my finger just right.

“I’m glad you said yes because I have another surprise for you.” He whips out a set of keys from his pocket, along with a business card of a hammock on a beach. It reads SUNSHINE COAST BED AND BREAKFAST. The address matches the house we toured together, the one in which I pictured our happy future. It lists the proprietors as Keeley and Maxon Reed.

I gasp as thrilled disbelief courses euphoria through my veins. “You…you bought the house?”

“For you. When we met, you said you wanted to be happy. I’m going to make you delirious.” He grins at me. “Is it working so far?”

“Yes.” I nod like an idiot because I can’t imagine being any happier. “This is perfect.”

“Good. We already have our first booking eight weeks from now. It’s the beginning of our future.” He looks near tears, too. He’s holding me close, and I feel so cherished. “Tell me you love me.”

The way he searches my eyes for my heart nearly takes me out at the knees again. I have a feeling he’ll be doing this every day.

“I love you, Maxon Miles Reed,” I vow.

“And I love you, Keeley Sunshine Kent.”

I giggle. “That’s not my middle name.”

“Whatever.” He shrugs. “It fits you. Just like you fit me. You’re my everything, sunshine.”

It hits me in that moment that he’s mine to kiss and tease and feed every day. He’s mine to laugh with and make love to every night.

I can’t imagine a better ending than that. A million emotions pelt me, and I wish I could tell Maxon everything I feel. I guess I could try…but I know a better way.


Tags: Shayla Black More Than Words Erotic