Page 8 of Scoring Chance
Three
“I can’t believe Sydney and Dean are done,” Sarah began as she snuggled against her boyfriend. “Maybe it’s best they’re apart.”
“I think so. They’re really young mentally so they have a lot to work out,” Jameson agreed, “but you’re right. Sydney chose Ian instead of Dean and he can’t compete with that.”
“Sydney chose Ian?” Sarah turned to him. “Well, if it wasn’t for your best friend, they would still be together.”
“Ian got into Sydney’s head before Dean had a chance,” Jameson defended. “She’s easily manipulated.”
“Excuse you?” Sarah challenged. “If it wasn’t for your best friend and his damn insecurities, they would still be together.”
“Well, maybe if your best friend listened to my best friend about his feelings, then maybe, they would still be together.” Jameson shot back.
“Oh, so it’s the girl’s fault?” Sarah scoffed. “You men slay me with your bullshit. A woman can be completely innocent but when a man messes up, it’s immediately her fault!”
“Sydney’s completely innocent?” Jameson chuckled. “She did everything but sleep with Ian, but don’t you worry, I’m sure she’s doing that right now.”
“Hey, there’s no evidence of her doing anything wrong,” Sarah defended her best friend, “I can’t say the same for the simp you call a best friend.”
“My best friend is a simp, all right.” Jameson nodded. “And maybe he was simp for the wrong woman.”
“Maybe my best friend fell in love with the wrong piece of dick,” Sarah sharply retorted.
“Maybe my best friend wouldn’t have been a dick if his fiancée wasn’t too busy looking at another!”
Sarah harrumphed. “You are such a damn spoon.”
“And another thing…” Jameson stopped once he realized the insult Sarah gave him. “…spoon?”
“My great-grandmother was a Scot. If she called you a spoon, it meant you were too simple and stupid to be trusted with a fork or knife. You might hurt yourself.” Sarah grinned. “Bless your heart.”
Jameson’s fists curled up into tight balls and his heart pounded through his chest. “That’s it!” He rushed over to Sarah and crushed his lips upon hers after he slammed her against the wall.
His lips went everywhere on her body – her neck, her chest and he softly kissed her décolletage. His hands explored her thick waist, reaching back to her behind where he firmly grabbed it.
“I hate that fighting with you is such a turn-on,” Jameson barely pulled his mouth away before he spoke.
“We need to fight more often,” Sarah breathed.
Jameson stepped back and tried in vain to catch his breath. “We need to get married.”
“Well, we are,” Sarah breathed, “soon.”
“This weekend,” Jameson nodded.
Sarah quieted her breathing and looked dead into her boyfriend’s eyes. “What?”
“Sarah, I want to make love to you but I refuse unless we’re married,” Jameson walked back to her and cupped her face, “I don’t want to piss God off.”
“I’m pretty sure if you got in between my legs and give me your third one, God wouldn’t mind that at all,” she replied, “in fact, I think he’ll give you a thumbs up and maybe a hi-five for such a good job.”
“Sarah, I’m serious.” He led her back to the sofa and sat. “I don’t want to wait anymore. I don’t want us to date forever and then decide to get married. I want to do it the right way. We can have the big wedding later. I want to make you my wife now.”
Sarah swallowed. She loved that man. She loved everything about him. And now he wanted to make her his – forever. “What about your fortune?”
“Our fortune,” he corrected, “what’s mine is yours.”
“What about my life in San Francisco?”
