Page 130 of Cannon
“What you thinking about, wifey?” Cannon’s deep voice rumbled behind me as his strong arms wrapped around my waist. His chin rested on my shoulder, his body warm against my back despite the morning chill.
I leaned into him, savoring the solid feel of him. “Just how far we’ve come.”
Six months since ZaZa nearly died in that hospital bed. Six months since Cannon dropped to one knee in that courtyard and told me—not asked, but told me—we were getting married. Six months of rebuilding, healing, and dreaming of this moment.
“You think this is the one?” he asked, his lips brushing against my ear, sending a shiver down my spine that had nothing to do with the breeze.
I turned in his arms to face him, taking in those eyes that still made my heart skip. At thirty-one, Cannon Price had theconfidence of a man twice his age, but then, he’d lived more life in those years than most men do in a lifetime.
“I know it’s the one,” I said, my hands sliding up his chest. “Ten bedrooms, that massive kitchen, the natural hot springs on the property… it’s everything we talked about. There’s enough acreage to build the spa and other buildings.”
His smile, that rare, genuine smile that transformed his whole face stopped my heart. “Then it’s ours.”
Just like that. No hesitation, no lengthy deliberation. When Cannon decided something, it was as good as done. That decisiveness had changed both our lives in ways I never could have imagined six months ago.
The real estate agent approached from inside the house. “Mr. and Mrs. Price? I have the property survey you asked for.”
Mrs. Price. I still wasn’t used to that, even after our small ceremony three months ago. Just us, the boys, ZaZa, Nori, and Cannon’s brothers. No big production, no drama, just promises made and kept.
Cannon took the papers from her, his eyes scanning the documents with that intense focus he brought to everything. “These look good. We’ll take it.”
The agent’s eyes widened slightly. We hadn’t even discussed price yet, but that was Cannon. When he wanted something, money was never the obstacle.
“That’s… wonderful!” she recovered quickly. “I’ll draw up the offer right away. The asking price is…”
“We’ll pay asking,” Cannon cut her off. “But we need to close quickly. My wife has plans for this place.”
I couldn’t help but smile at his confidence in me. I was about to open the most exclusive wellness retreat on the East Coast. If you’d told me a year ago I’d be leaving Sylk Road behind for green pastures and meditation gardens, I’d have laughed in your face.
“I’ll get the paperwork started immediately,” the agent promised, practically glowing at the thought of her commission. “Would you like to take one more look around while I make some calls?”
“Yes, thank you,” I said, already mentally placing furniture, designing spaces, seeing what this place could become.
Once she disappeared, Cannon pulled me close again. “Happy?”
“More than I thought possible,” I admitted, standing on tiptoes to kiss him. His mouth moved against mine, familiar yet still exciting, still making my pulse quicken.
When we broke apart, he kept me close, his forehead resting against mine. “I talked to Hunter and Josiah yesterday. They’re excited to come visit once we’re settled.”
A bittersweet smile touched my lips. Those boys had been through so much, but they were adapting to life with their aunt and uncle better than anyone expected. Cannon saw them every other weekend, flying to New Jersey on his private jet like it was nothing.
“They’re doing okay?” I asked, knowing how much he worried about them, how the guilt still ate at him sometimes in the quiet hours of the night.
“Yeah,” he nodded. “Josiah’s making friends at his new school. Hunter’s still quiet, but he’s coming around. Mia’s good with them.” His jaw tightened briefly. “She’s letting me take them for two weeks this summer. Thinking we could bring them here, let them help with the horses.”
I squeezed his hand. “They’d love that.”
We walked through the mansion again, our footsteps echoing on the hardwood floors. Each room held so much potential, the library that would become a reading nook for guests, the sunroom perfect for morning yoga, the massive kitchen where we’d serve farm-to-table meals.
“I talked to ZaZa this morning,” I said as we climbed the grand staircase to the second floor. “She aced her midterms.”
Cannon nodded approvingly. “Being back in school was the best thing for her.”
“Thank you for that,” I said softly. “For making those calls, setting that up. Javi’s a good father, but he doesn’t have those kinds of connections.”
Cannon shrugged it off like it was nothing, but we both knew better. After ZaZa recovered from her gunshot wound, she’d been different, more focused, more determined. The trauma had stripped away her childish selfishness, replacing it with a maturity I hadn’t expected. Living with Javi while attending school on the scholarship Cannon had arranged through King Industries was giving her the fresh start she needed.
“She still wants to come work here in the summers,” I added. “Says she wants to learn the business side.”
