Page 158 of The Stud

“Always.”

“Not not always.”

“See.” He lightly chortles. “It’s in your nature to constantly be on the defensive to the point being on theoffensiveis so uncomfortable that you will go out of your way just to return to the defensive even if it means locking me out of my own home.”

“That’s not…not…true.”

“Again,” the stuffed animal is placed on the double sink counter near what’s become his side, “you illustrate my point.”Tanner adoringly plants his palms on my hips. “I chooseyou, Arden.” The flexing of his fingers traps me in place. “And I’ll always choose you. Over bunnies. Over contracts. Over good press. Over hockey itself becauseyoumatter to me more than any of those things combined.” He cranes his face a little closer to mine. “I love you. And that will not change whether I’m in Dalvegan or Camelot or Highland or Florida or New York or Finland or Antarctica-”

“They don’t have a hockey team.”

“Not yet.” His playful waggles of his brows successfully gets me grinning. “I love you and will keep loving you and keep calling you mine whether we’re in the same city or states apart.”

“Sameskies,” comes out right above a whisper.

“However, I need you totalk to meabout things and to know you truly trust me, because if you do not, then no matter how many times I say it or ways I show it, it’ll never be enough.”

There’s no stopping my fingers from gently gliding up his sweatshirt covered chest. “Idotrust you.”

“Then act like it.”

The forceful response has me clamping my thighs together against my own volition.

ForFuhrsakenow is sonotthe time for that.

Or…maybe it is?

Would it be weird to go into surgery full of him?

“Trustthat you’re the only one I want wearing my numberand,” Tanner unexpectedly drops himself down to one knee,“my last name.”

“Wh…wh…”

“Trustthat I’m gonna do what’s best foryou…” a white gold ring with an emerald surrounded by smaller diamonds is suddenly presented, “for us…” the taking of my left hand occurs next, “the same way Hennington and Blanc and our mates all trust that I’m gonna do what’s best forthem.”

“I…”

“This ring,” he gingerly begins to slide it in place, “represents our relationship being the crest I amalwaysgoing to be playing my best for.”

“Are you…asking me…to…marry you?”

“No.”

“No?!”

“I’mnot not askingthough.” Once it’s secured in its spot, our eyes meeting again. “I’m not not asking you to spend your life with me. I’m not not asking you be at my side – with our GMs blessing by the way – for awards and signings and parties and retirements and weddings. I’m not not asking you to step into the spotlight as not only mySlayer…but asmy wife.” He gives my knuckles a gentle stroke. “Arden Grace Hoss…will younot notmarry?”

Tears unexpectedly begin to fill my gaze on a whispered, “Yes.”

“Little louder for those in the nosebleeds, please.”

Mirth-filled laughter sends the droplets down my cheeks, “Do not make me change my answer.”

“You won’t.” He slowly rises to his feet. “And I will do everything possible to guarantee I keep this win.” His arm winds around my waist prompting my hands to fold themselves together at the nape of his neck. “Just like I’ll do everything possible to keep them in the barn.”

Our lips swiftly smash together, allowing our tongues to edaciously touch, scribbling our signatures on what is undoubtedly the deal of a lifetime for us both.

EPILOGUE

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