Page 32 of Forbidden Confessions: Vol. 2
I’m alive—thanks to him.
At Dorinda’s side, he kicks the weapon from her hand and bends to check her pulse. A moment later, he lets out a relieved breath. “She’s dead.”
The nightmare is over. I’m shaking so hard I can barely stand, the adrenaline crash hitting me like a freight train.
With a cry, I launch myself into Rand’s arms. “I wouldn’t have made it without you. Thank you.”
He pulls me even closer. “You helped. You kept her talking and held her off until I could get a clean shot. Thank God.”
The sound of his heart hammering fills my head. Every muscle in his body is taut. Then he dips his head to take my lips in a hard press. “I don’t know what you think should happen between us next, but you’ll have to get a restraining order and a crowbar to pry me away from you.”
“I don’t want that. I want you. Always.”
“I want to spend my life with you, Sophie. Wherever that takes us, let’s do it together.”
“We should start by getting married.” It’s unconventional as far as proposals go, but why not?
“You took the words out of my mouth.” He smiles as he presses a kiss to my forehead, then gives me a solemn stare. “But first we need to call the police and sort through the red tape.”
He’s right. “I’ll need to call David, too. He can do damage control with the press.”
“You up to that?”
If that’s what it takes to spend my life with Rand? “Yeah.”
And while I’ve got David on the phone, I’ll also tell him that I’m downshifting my career to enjoy some life with the handsome hunk of bodyguard who turned out to be the man of my dreams. I can’t wait to get started on my forever with him.
Epilogue
Bartonville, Texas
New Year’s Eve
* * *
“You ready, honey?” Rand cups my arm and drops a soft kiss onto my shoulder.
I can’t believe it’s been almost six months since we met. To say we’ve been inseparable is an understatement.
After the police descended on the cottage in Granbury that horrible night, they thankfully agreed that Rand shot Dorinda in my defense, ending one nightmare. But the press became another, printing every detail of our Fourth of July they could dig up—our escape from the parade, a photo of me wearing Rand’s shirt as we crossed the street hand in hand, him kissing me in the buggy. Instantly, rumors of our romance began to buzz. Poor Rand couldn’t get a moment’s peace after that.
I turn to him solemnly. “More than ready. What about you? Are you sure? I’ve made your life hell since we met.”
“No, the press has made my life hell. You’ve been the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”
His words melt my heart. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I’m thrilled we’ve made it work, despite the challenges.”
“Me, too.” He kisses me softly.
God, I love this man. We’ve learned to communicate and compromise. Rand has had to swallow his pride more than once. But he’s been supportive and understanding, no matter what.
The first month of his employment in Bartonville was hell with the press and my fans stalking him in and around the police headquarters. He had to sell the place he’d bought before he ever moved in. I know that annoyed him, just like I know it chafed to take refuge in a house behind a gate and a guard. The five million for its purchase came mostly from my bank account. Rand wanted to object…but we both agreed that safety had to come before pride.
Our early days in the house was rough. Going from an eight-hundred-square-foot apartment to an eight-thousand-square-foot house took a lot of adjusting for Rand. He questioned what the hell we were going to do with six bedrooms and eight bathrooms…until we christened them all. We also found out that we still had a lot to learn about each other. He didn’t count on me being a neat freak. I didn’t know he likes to play video games when he suffers from insomnia. But we’ve adjusted to one another’s quirks. He showed me the joys of skinny-dipping at midnight. I tried to teach him to cook, which we both decided is a lost cause. But it’s fine since I love being in the kitchen. And he loves eating…then having me for dessert.
For me, it’s been unusual to be in one place for weeks on end. Not bad, just different—especially after the new album dropped. I did far fewer public appearances to promote it, and those I did, I found myself flanked by Rand or Rob, sometimes both. The success of the album exceeded my wildest expectations, and the pressure to extend the tour and do the late-night circuit was enormous. But I finally sat David down and told him this album would be my last for a while, maybe even forever. Since then, I’ve started producing work from my new home studio. It’s creative and fulfilling without the pressure of performing. I don’t know what I’ll do with it, if anything. But I’m enjoying it. And I’m so blessed.
Not only that, but Rand’s family embraced me completely from the moment we announced our engagement. His mother, Charlene, took me under her wing like the daughter she never had, calling me weekly to check in and share family recipes I love trying to master. Even his brothers, despite their rough edges, have made it clear I’m family now. All the Garrisons have rallied around us, and for the first time in years, I feel like I truly belong somewhere. Like I have a family.
