Page 138 of Whenever You Call

Again, she saw it. She hadn’t missed anything since I’d first woken. “Let me call a nurse. You need pain relief.”

“I don’t care about the pain—just let me look at you.”

She paused for only a moment, and we stared into each other’s eyes, letting silence be our love language the way we’d let it be so many times before.

“I… I have something to say.”

“Talk to me, Logan,” she said with a soft smile.

“I’m going to marry you one day, Hannah Moore.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.” I inhaled through my nostrils, the emotion of having her in my life forever taking control. “I’m going to make everything happen that you told me about while I was sleeping.”

“You heard that?”

“Every word.”

Her eyes filled with more tears. “And what did you think?”

“I want your dream, too.”

“So, we’re moving to the beach?”

“And having more babies.” I smiled, not caring about the discomfort. She numbed everything that hurt anyway.

“I’ll wear a white dress.”

“Then you’ll run down the aisle.”

“And you’ll catch me.”

“Always.”

Hannah closed her eyes again, her face wistful as she pressed herself against my hand, curling her fingers into my stubble. “I can’t wait to spend my life with you. But most of all,” she whispered. “I can’t wait to tell the world about us.”

It was the best thing she could have said—the only thing better than the I Love Yous she’d rained down on me for the last two weeks.

“Look at me and say that again,” I begged her with a broken voice.

Letting her eyes open, she leaned over me, letting her nose slide against mine and her mouth linger for a kiss. “I can’t wait to tell the whole world about us. Let them see what happiness looks like. So long as I have you and Bella, I have everything I’ve ever needed. You answered my call, Logan. Just like you promised. It’s time for me to answer yours.”

When Hannah kissed me, I pushed my calloused hands into her soft hair, and I held on tight, refusing to ever let her go again.

Epilogue

HANNAH

Several Months Later

“Imay end up in hospital again. You’re about to give me a heart attack.”

I playfully slapped his shoulder. “Don’t even joke about it, Logan Thomas. That’s not funny.”

“Sorry.” He smirked, his eyes finally rising to mine after lingering too long on every curve of my body in the slinky black dress I wore—a Kate special she’d designed just for me and this night. My short hair had been given a slight Hollywood curl, and for the first time in a long time, I’d let someone do my makeup.

Since the accident, our lives had changed completely.

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