Page 137 of Forgotten Desires

“I know, and me buying the paper wasn’t about the money either. I did it because I love you and I refuse to let anything tarnish your name. I will stop at nothing to keep you from being hurt, Bee. Nothing.”

Why does he have to be so damn sweet? “I didn’t need you to buy the paper,” I tell him, my hand moving to his cheek. “I would’ve weathered the storm beside you.”

“I’m hoping you’ll do that anyway.”

“I will.”

He smiles. “I’m going to take that as a vow.”

“We’ve already said those.”

“I want to marry you again.”

“Uhh, what?” I ask, confused. “We’re not divorced, unless you managed to buy the courthouse and change records while I was in surgery.”

At this point I wouldn’t put it past him.

His soft laugh is followed by a deep exhale. “I didn’t, but that’s not a bad idea.”

I roll my eyes. “Anyway . . . we’re already married.”

Crew’s smile makes my heart race. “I want to marry you for the right reasons. I want to stand up there with you knowing that I’m choosing you for the rest of my life, even if I already did. The first time, you thought it was just for Layla, and that was part of it, but I’ve always loved you, Bee. You’ve always been what I wanted.”

“Kiss me,” I request because I can’t move to him.

He brings his lips to mine in the sweetest, most tender kiss I’ve ever had. When he breaks away, he rubs his thumb against my cheek. “I would marry you every day if that’s what you needed to prove how much I love you.”

“I don’t need that. You’ve more than proven how much you love me. You bought a freaking newspaper to avoid a story.” Which brings me to the whole reason we’re having this discussion. “Okay, last question.”

“Go ahead.”

I’m not sure I want to know this, but if this marriage is now real, and we’re a couple, we’re merging our lives together. Which includes money, not that I have any.

“Exactly how much did your newspaper takeover cost?”

Crew laughs once. “Two hundred and fifty-six million.”

thirty-three

CARSON

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” I ask my wife when I find her standing by the back door with her boots on.

She tilts her head to the side. “To see the animals.”

I huff, crossing my arms over my chest. “I said we’d come to Sugarloaf for the next week as long as you promised not to overdo it.”

Brynn shrugs with a smile, but I see through her little innocent act. “I’m not overdoing it. I’m going to pet a goat.”

We arrived back in Sugarloaf last night. After a lot of arguing, I agreed to take the trip as long as she followed the rules. The last two weeks in New York have been calm. She’s gone to her therapy, done great with her medications, and it’s a very different experience than she had right after the liver donation.

The doctors told us at her last visit it would be okay to spend some time out of New York and might even help her spirits.

Like a lovesick fool, I couldn’t say no when she asked me to please let her have some time at home.

I sigh. “Let me get my shoes.”

Seems I’ll never learn to say no.

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