Page 63 of Heartbreaker
“Oh, that’s right, I forgot. You prefer fresh meat,” Leeland says, and turns his gaze on me. “Or is it the other way around? Are you using him to get what you want?”
John’s hand slams down on the table, rattling the table settings. “Don’t you fucking talk to her like that. Savannah and I knew each other well before she came to EWE, and I’ll be damned—”
“Down, boy. I’m just curious what the dynamic is here. She’s obviously younger than you and newer to the business. Sleeping with the face of the company has its perks, I’m sure.”
“I didn’t need his star power to become one,” I say, and from the corner of my eye, I see John’s mouth lift.
“What do you want, Leeland?” John asks after a moment, sounding more confident than he did before. “Because from where I’m sitting, this feels more like a setup than an apology.”
His father chuckles, unwinding his arms to fold his hands together on the table as he leans in. “And what am I supposed to be apologizing for?”
Frost-tipped blades crunch beneath my feet as I walk the distance between the main house and the chicken coop. The sun barely peeks over the distant hills, turning the sky into a watercolor canvas of orange, red, and yellow. I tug my oversized flannel coat tighter around my frame as the wind whips across the open field. The air has a slight bite to it this morning, and it isn’t supposed to get much warmer, according to the weatherman, but I don’t care. The cold is a welcome friend compared to the weather we’ve been traveling in recently, making it officially feel like fall.
I’ve missed this. I never thought I’d say that, but I’ve missed the simplicity of this life. Not enough to give up what I have now, but enough to admit it—if only to myself.
Mere feet from the coop, a flame spreads across my skin when fingers wrap around my hand and thread through mine. He pulls me back two steps and stoops down to press a gentle kiss against my lips. “Good morning, Sweetheart,” he murmurs against me, and I hum in response. “You’re up early.”
“Wanted to grab breakfast with Papá,” I say. “You were knocked out, so I let you sleep.”
John is dressed in the same black sweatpants that hung low on his hips last night before he lured me into bed. He barely moved this morning, only stirring slightly when I lifted his arm from around my waist.
“There’s coffee inside, and I’m sure Mamá has started making breakfast for you before we have to leave to pick up Ari and Sam from the airport.”
“I’ll join her inside, then,” he says, pulling me in for another kiss. This time, however, he pulls my chest against his and slips his left arm around my waist. His other hand cradles mine against his heart. Before I know it, we’re moving in a slow circle across the frozen ground. Questions fill my mind, starting withWhat in the hell are we doing? But I can’t voice them. I’m too captivated by the blue eyes staring down at me and the way the sun casts a warm glow on his face, highlighting the dusted freckles across his nose. The same ones that typically blend in with his skin, only standing out when you’re right in front of him.
I laugh when he spins me out and then pulls me back in, and his warm breath tickles the side of my face. We gently sway, still wrapped in each other, as the sun now crests the hills and trees.
“What would you say if I asked you to marry me?” There’s no hesitation in his voice, only soft intrigue.
“Well, that depends,” I say, leaning a little further into his embrace. “Are you asking?”
“As tempting as going to the courthouse sounds…I think I’d rather do it the right way.”
“A courthouse wedding isn’t the right way?”
“Yes, it is,” John says, before kissing my temple. “But I want to do this whole thing the right way. I want to give you the wedding you deserve. One day, Savannah, I’m going to ask you to marry me, maybe today,”—he squeezes me gently—“maybe tomorrow, or maybe in a month from now. And—”
“So, let’s do it, John. Let’s get married tomorrow when your mom and Grandma Aggie get here. It would be simple and easy—”
“The complete opposite of our everyday lives.”
“That’s why it’s perfect.”
He chuckles. “We could get married in a back alley somewhere dressed in brown paper bags for all I care, but it’s not what you want, Sav.”
“All I need is you.”
His chest rises and falls against my back with a heavy breath before he turns me around to face him. “I want to give you everything you want, whether it’s a full wedding or the—”
“And what about whatyouwant? What about what you’ve always dreamed of?”
“I’m looking at it,” he says, and I can’t help but roll my eyes playfully.
“You are so corny.”
“My only request is that you’re the one walking down the aisle that day.” John brings my knuckles to his lips. “I want to do it all, Sweetheart. Pick the perfect shade of maroon from thirty different shades, because it will obviously be a fall wedding; decide which linens have just the right pattern and texture; stress about the seating chart, because it would be a disaster if my cousin Tommy ends up anywhere near the Raffertys; hand-select the perfect invitation design; and taste a million different cakes until we’re sick to our stomachs. I want it to be everything you’ve ever dreamed of—”
“It sounds like torture,” I say, with a soft laugh.
