Page 25 of Preacher's Property

Every day I come home from work, he has dinner waiting for me along with a vase of fresh roses waiting on the counter with a sweet note. It’s like he spends all his time waiting for me to get home. The guy even does my laundry for goodness’ sake. Dusty didn’t even want to spend time with me. Work and everything else was always his priority. When he wasn’t working,he’d spend his weekend waxing his stupid Charger and polishing the chrome on his wheels. Preacher spends every spare moment with me.

He takes me for drives on his motorcycle. Takes me on shopping sprees and for little weekend getaways. He spoils me endlessly. And in the evenings, he doesn’t turn on a fight and spend his time screaming at the TV, ignoring the fact that I’m in the room. Instead, he cuddles with me and we talk.

Oh God. I hope I haven’t ruined things.

He said he was just going out. That means he’ll be back. And when he walks through that door, I’m going to tell him how I feel. I’m going to tell him how sorry I am and that I only wanted him to win the bet. I have this stupid notion in my head that if he wins, it means we’ll be getting married. I can’t tell him that part though. He’ll think I’m crazy, jumping from dating for two months to being hitched at the altar.

It’s been thirty minutes since he left; at this time of night, surely he’ll be back soon. But thirty minutes turns into an hour. An hour turns into three. And he still hasn’t shown. I get this horrible thought of him lying on the side of the road, crushed under that metal beast of his. Right as my stomach drops at the thought, the front door opens.

I jump off my bed and rush into the living room.

“Where have you been? I’ve been worried sick.” The panic is clawing at my throat, and I feel like I’m gasping for air. I need him to come and sweep me up into his arms, but he doesn’t come closer. He stands rigidly in place, and that sinking feeling in my stomach grows dreadful.

“I went to the clubhouse.”

As soon as he says the word, an image terrorizes my thoughts. The girls coming up to him, begging for his attention. That definitely could explain him keeping his distance right now. He doesn’t want me to smell them on him.

“Did you go there to fuck a sweetbutt?”

Since I wouldn’t take care of his needs, he needed to find someone who would.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” His voice is a near shout. “I’m not your ex, Chass. I wouldn’t betray you like that.”

“Then why did you go there?”

“I needed a drive to clear my head, and I figured I’d stop and get something that I needed while I was out. When I showed up, Dozer asked me to join him for a drink, so I sat down and talked to him.”

“Did you talk shit about me?” It’s another question I regret the moment it leaves my mouth. Dusty used to complain to his academy buddies about my nagging him to spend time with him, but I shouldn’t have deflected his behavior on Preacher. It’s only made him angrier.

“Goddammit, Chassie. Why would I talk shit about the woman I’m in love with?” Oh my God. “Have you not been paying fucking attention? My entire world revolves around you. Here I am trying to give you space and time, trying to let your heart heal, but you still don’t trust me. I’m in love with you, Chassie. You want to see what I fucking went there for?” He digs into his pants pocket then shoves something in front of me. “This. This is what I went there for. I’m not going to sit around talking shit about the woman I want to marry. Fuck!”

I look down, catching a glimpse of the sparkling diamond ring right before he storms from the room.

A ring. He went to get a ring, and I just accused him of fucking a sweetbutt.

I walk back to his room and see him standing with his head hung low. I did that. I caused this amazing man pain.

“I’m sorry, Preacher. I’m sorry for making you think I don’t trust you. I do. My fear of losing you took control, but I know you’re nothing like him. You should know that my heart didn’tneed healing because it never belonged to him. You own my heart. And if you ever decide you want to ask me the question, if I haven’t ruined things between us, then my answer will be yes. I would love to marry you one day. I’d be honored to be your wife, Jordyn.”

He turns slowly and his eyes finally aren’t rigid around the edges. They’re full of warmth again. He comes toward me, and that warmth expands through my body, thawing out my freezing nerves.

“What if I wanted to ask you now?” He takes my hands in his. “What if I wanted to get down on one knee”—he lowers to the ground and my heart leaps into my throat—“and say please, Chassie Anne Shumer, will you do me the honor of being my wife? Will you promise me your heart so I never have to feel the pain of loneliness ever again? Every day with you has been the happiest of my life, and I don’t want to live another day without you.”

“Yes!” The tears start to slip down my cheeks. “Yes, Jordyn Ray Clark. Yes, I’ll marry you.”

He slides the ring onto my finger and then rises from the ground.

“And out of the pain came something incredible,” he whispers against my lips.

“It did.” I smile through my tears, taking his warmth and begging for more. It really did.

“I love you, baby.” He slips away allowing me to catch my breath. “Now. Where are we going to go on our vacation?”

Our vacation? I look to him in question.

“The trip I owe you for losing the bet,” he explains, pulling me over to the bed.

“You technically didn’t lose the bet. We didn’t have sex.”