Secret Plunge - Jasmin Miller Page 0,56

and spots me leaning against the doorjamb. Her left hand shoots to her chest, her eyes wide. “Oh my goodness, you scared the crap out of me. You can’t sneak up on me like that. I mean it.”

My eyes flicker to her chest. There’s something on her finger and I point at it. “What is that? A ring?”

She smiles. “Yes.”

I step closer. “Let’s see it.”

She holds out her fingers like we’re ring-shopping, and my throat tightens. Is this what Mason gave her earlier? She’d put it in her pocket right after he left and before I could see it.

When I get a better look at it, my eyes snap up to hers. She’s biting her lip, her eyes filled with amusement. I look at the ring once more, unable to believe what I’m looking at. “What the hell? Is this for real?”

And then she laughs. “Right? I mean, what are the chances? If Mason knew what significance his present has for me. For us. Best thing ever.”

“A fucking Smurf ring. Wow.”

“Yup.” She moves her hand around so I can see all angles. “I thought I could, you know . . . practice wearing it.”

I’m not sure what’s worse, my heart palpitations, my dry mouth, or my sweaty hands.

Does she . . . No, she can’t possibly know that I . . .

She takes a step toward me, fisting my shirt above my chest to close the last distance between us, her baby belly gently pushing against my stomach. Then she goes up on her toes until she’s right in my face. “Babe?”

“Huh?” My brain short-circuits with her so close, but I’m trying to focus on her words.

“I know you’re giving me time until you ask me because you know I’m a bit freaked out about getting married so soon after getting divorced, and I appreciate that more than I can ever tell you.”

One of her hands moves up my chest and neck until it rests against my cheek. “But I want you to know one thing. When you think I’m ready, and you’ll ask me, I’ll say yes. Because we’re in this together. You own my heart as much as I own yours, baby craziness and all.”

That’s it. That’s all I can handle.

I wrap her in my arms and carry her out of the closet and over to the bed. “I love you so much.”

“Right back atcha.” She doesn’t wait for me to undress her. She’s already ripping off her clothes before my hands even make contact with them.

Let’s just say, her second trimester pregnancy hormones have been very good to our sex life, and I’m not complaining.

I pull her face to mine and stare into her eyes. “You are the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and I’d take the plunge again into this mess if it meant I got you at the end.”

“I feel the same. I’m so glad I celebrated New Year’s with you instead of Bacon.”

“Me too, baby. Me too.”

And then I make love to her until she screams my name, doubting I’ll ever get enough of her. Happy I don’t have to ever find out because she’s mine, and I’ll make damn sure that it will be official soon too.

Although, I hope she doesn’t get too attached to that Smurf ring . . .

THE END

Who’s ready for Jace’s story and the woman who steals his heart? Continue reading for an excerpt of Fresh Meet, a heartwarming single dad sports romance that readers call real, fun, and breathtaking. You can check it out right here.

Prologue

Jace

Women are crazy.

I will probably deny ever having had this thought, but they are absolute nut jobs.

Especially the one standing in front of me.

Or maybe it's just my shitty talent of picking them.

With one hand poised on her hip, and her other one clutched tightly around the now empty wine glass, Sandra has a bigger resemblance to a snake-loving Medusa than the beautiful and exotic bikini model I enjoyed spending some of my down time with.

Used to enjoy spending down time with.

As of three minutes ago, right after I told her we should stop seeing each other—and she unceremoniously dumped her red wine on me. I'd say the breakup was successful.

Which is exactly what I wanted.

But I could have gone without the drama.

If her pursed lips are anything to go by, we're not done for tonight.

"Jace Atwood, I can't believe you're treating me like this. I thought we had something special. You're . . . you're . . . such an