Page 82 of Dump Tackle My Heart
Because this moment matters.
Becauseshematters.
“I mean, it’s just,” I start, then trail off, my throat thick with emotion.
This woman?
She’s everything.
More than I ever dreamed I deserved.
More than I ever thought I’d be lucky enough to find in this lifetime.
She’s strength and softness, sass, and heart, all wrapped up in a curvy, stubborn, brilliant package that I can’t stop wanting.Needing. Loving.
Ever since I asked her father for permission to marry her, I expected her to say something. To rib me for being slow. Maybe throw in a sarcastic“You waiting for the next snowstorm to pop the question, Hudson?”
But she didn’t.
Not my girl.
She never rushed me. Never pushed.
She justtrusted me.
Trusted that I was waiting for the right moment—and that I’d get there, in my own time.
And that?
That’s love.
“Well,” I finally say, voice a little rough, “the first time I saw you, I was struck.”
Her lips part slightly, and I keep going, heart pounding against my ribs.
“It was like—like you just dump tackled my heart and my soul and it all justclicked.”
“Maybe I’m the one who should be called Tank,” she teases, and I grin. Fuck, I love her.
“What I mean is, the second I met you it was like some part of me that’d been sleeping finally woke the hell up. And ever since that moment, Dani—I’ve been yours.”
Her breath catches.
And I swear, the stars above us shine a little brighter.
Because now she knows.
And now she feels it too.
She blinks, surprised.
“I’m trying to put it into words, but I’m not a poet,” I admit, voice rough. “So I’m just gonna borrow something from someone smarter than me.”
“Smarter than you? I thought you were a genius.”
I pause and grin, squeezing her hand, eyes locked on hers.
“Maybe. But Shakespeare said it better. The sentiment, though? It’s all mine.”
