by S. J. Tilly
Needless to say, I am absolutely fucking thrilled to be getting out of here today.
“Alright, Miss Clark you’re all set to head home.” A nurse tells me with a nod. “I’ll have a wheelchair brought to your room in a few minutes, then you can leave.”
I open my mouth to protest that I can walk, but Vincent cuts me off.
“Thank you.” He says, nodding to the nurse.
The nurse gives us a warm smile before stepping out of the room.
“Vincent.” I start.
“Don’t argue. As I’m sure you know, it’s hospital policy to be wheeled out. And even if it weren’t, do you have any idea how long of a walk it is from here to the parking lot? I could carry you, but I’m sure that’d be uncomfortable for you.” He looks pointedly at my stomach.
He’s right. About everything. And I can’t even be angry with him about his outlandish behavior over the last two weeks. I came way, way too close to dying. Vincent’s the reason I’m still here at all. It was his quick response, and knowing to keep pressure on my gunshot wound, that kept me alive until the ambulance came. After that, a team of nurses and doctors worked medical miracles by performing immediate surgery, fishing out the bullet, and repairing the litany of internal damage it had caused. I prefer to not think about the details. That stupid little piece of metal wreaked havoc in my abdomen. I should make a full recovery, but I’m not there yet.
“Fine. I’ll let you push my wheelchair.” I cross my arms and slump back into the chair.
Annie snickers from her perch in the chair next to mine.
She’s spent a lot of time here with me, and her company is one of the only things that’s kept me sane.
“You’re supposed to be on my side.” I jokingly glare at her.
“I am.” She grins.
“We have a moment before we leave, and I’d like to talk to you about something.” Vincent’s tone is serious, and has me frowning.
“What is it? You’re not in trouble, are you?” I ask, sitting forward.
He had assured me that the police ruled the shooting a self-defense killing.
“No, sweetheart. It’s not about that.”
Relief deflates my posture. “Okay. Good. What is it then?”
Vincent crouches in front of me. “I know I’ve been driving you a little crazy.”
I cock an eyebrow at him. “A little?”
He ignores my comment, reaching out to place his hand on mine. “I’m not going to apologize. I need to be with you. I need you with me. I know that Randal is gone," he growls the name. “But that doesn’t stop me from worrying about you. And after seeing you like this. In here. I can’t stand the thought of having you anywhere but with me.”
I roll my hand over, so our palms are touching. “I’m okay, Vincent. You don’t have to worry about me.”
“You’re exactly right. I won’t have to worry. Because you’ll be with me.” He uses his free hand to reach out and squeeze Annie’s knee, who’s beaming at me. “You’ll be with us.”
I’m on pretty mild pain killers now, but my brain can’t make sense of what he’s saying. “What are you… Are you asking me to move in with you?”
Vincent’s lips tug up into a cocky smile. “I’m not really asking. I’ve already had your clothes and personal items moved into my apartment. If there’s any furniture or kitchen stuff that you want to keep, we can arrange that. And don’t forget about my house in the country. I know you haven’t seen it yet, but you’ll love it. We can bring stuff there, too.”
My mouth literally pops open. “You…” I don’t know if I should be outraged, flattered, or have this man committed. My mind rolls through so many questions but only one comes out. “What about Captain? Can you even have pets in your place?”
That’s certainly not the most important issue here, but it’s a place to start.
Annie is the one who replies. “Captain has actually been living with us since the morning after…” She trails off, but quickly picks back up. “He really likes it. Dad got one of those big cat climbing things. He put it up in front of the windows in the living room and Captain loves it.” She hunches her shoulders a little. “He’s been sleeping in my bed at night.”
My eyes dart back and forth between father and daughter, finally narrowing on Vincent. This sneaky asshole knew what he was doing having Annie here for this conversation. I can’t say no to her, and I can’t yell at him in front of her.
“Vincent.” I squeeze his hand. “This is a big step. I know a lot has happened…”
I use my eyes to plead with him. He can be rash, and I don’t want this to be something he regrets later.
Adjusting his crouch so he has one knee on the ground, he leans into me. “I know what you’re thinking. You think I’m not serious. You think that I might change my mind. That I don’t have enough experience with relationships. But sweetheart, I don’t need experience, I just need you. And I don’t need a single minute more to know that you’re the one I want. The one I love. The one I fucking need.”
Emotion squeezes my throat.
Vincent holds out an open palm to Annie. She glides the zipper of her backpack open and slips her hand inside. My breath catches when she pulls out something small, handing it to her dad.
“Sweetheart.” Vincent whispers, kneeling in front of me. “You’re the only girlfriend I’ve ever had. And you’ll be the only wife I ever have.” He opens his palm to reveal a sparkling ring. “Sasha Clark, will you be my Mrs. Sin?”
EPILOGUE
SASHA
“M
rs. Mazzanti!” A reporter calls out my name. “As the Director of Programs, how do you feel about Marie’s House nearing its one-year anniversary?”
The smile on my face is genuine as I reply. It’s easy to tell the truth when things are going so well. Marie’s House is functioning at full capacity and is fully funded for the next five years.
Turns out Vincent was serious when he said he didn’t want me to go work for some other rich asshole after my assignment at Mazzanti Enterprises. I should have put up a fight, maybe, but the opportunity to run Marie’s House was something I just couldn’t turn down. The chance to make a real difference in the lives of women and families looking for a fresh start, was a career change I didn’t know I needed.
Now I get to spend every day working with amazing people while feeling great about what I do. And I get to spend every night at home. With my family.
Family. The word still makes my heart melt.
Vincent and I flew to Vegas and got married exactly 6 months after our one-night stand. The ceremony was in a tiny no-name chapel and our only guests were Marie, Annie, Angelo and John.
I think John is still eating antacids every time he sees Vincent, but secretly they’re becoming friends.
“Alright, folks.” Vincent’s voice cuts through the noise of the press conference. “Forgive me while I steal away my beautiful wife.”
His warm palm presses into my lower back, guiding me away from the crowd.
“My hero.” I bat my lashes at him.
“You’re goddamn right, I am.” Vincent smirks down at me, those dark eyes locking on mine.
“What would I ever do without you?” I ask.
His hand slips around my waist and pulls me tight against his side. “Doesn’t matter, sweetheart. Because you’ll always have me.”
ANGELO
F ollowing those two down the hall, I try to stop my eyes from rolling. They’re so stupidly in-love with each other it makes me want to gag.
Maybe it’s real. Anything is possible. But it’s not for me. Love, marriage, and a fucking baby carriage. Hard pass. Firm no.
Watching Vincent pull Sasha into his side, I’m tempted to call him out for turning into a giant pussy. But I know better. Having grown up together, I know from experience that even though I’m bigger, Vincent is ruthless.
My phone vibrates and I glance at the screen before answering. “Uncle Enzo. What’s up?”
> His smoke-graveled voice rolls through the phone. “I have a job for you. There’s this girl-”
About the Author - S.J. Tilly
S.J. Tilly lives in Minnesota with her husband and their herd of boxers. She spends an unhealthy amount of time with her face buried in books, reading and writing. If she’s not nose deep in text, or harassing her dogs, she’s probably playing with her plants, pretending she knows how to garden. You can find her stumbling around on Instagram @sjtillyauthor
Acknowledgements
I know I won't hit everyone that I want to thank, but I'll give it a shot anyways. Thank you, mom (Karen Vetvick) for all the hard work you put into this (and every other) book. Your edits, insights, and excitement were invaluable to me. I don’t know how many times you’ve read this book already, but now that it’s published, I know you’ll read it at least once more. And that means the world to me.
Thank you, Mandi Siebels. Thank you for being my friend since we were dumb little kids doing dumb little kid things. You’ve helped me keep my sanity during this horrid pandemic and I can never thank you enough for the encouragement you’ve given me during my writing process. I especially loved the “write faster” texts when you’d finish the most recent chapter, and I hadn’t completed the next.
Thank you, Alena Morrissey, for being such a great cheerleader. We might be new friends, but that never stopped you from being all in when it came to my books.
Thank you, Vanessa Lund, the original speed-reading bitch. You push me, and believe in me, even when I don’t feel like I have it in me. And I’ll only sign a smut book for you if I can also sign your chest.
Thank you, Anna Kucera, Betsy – Boots – McGinley, and Karen Edwards. You weirdos are like my own personal book-nerd cheering section. It’s a crazy good feeling to have your support.
Thank you, Michelle Penna, for your stupidly smart brain. Having you on my team to edit/proof/give feedback has been such a weight off my shoulders. I can never thank you enough. And even if I could, I know you’d never let me. Because you’re stubborn as hell.
Thank you, James Adkinson, for being such a talented designer. You took the idea I had in my head for this cover and blew it up into something amazing. I know I was annoying, and persistent, and impatient, and I’m sorry that I’ll for sure be like that on every cover we do together.
Thank you, Jaymin Eve, for all of your help and guidance. I tried my best not to fan girl all over you after I won the “mini-mentorship auction” that allowed me to ask you for advice.
To my husband, Johnny… Thank you for always standing with me. Having you at my side makes all the difference in the world.
For the rest of my parents and siblings and friends and family, thank you. I am who I am because of the people I surround myself with.
And lastly, I want to thank my 4th grade teacher, Mrs. Woxland. Thank you for encouraging me at a young age to be myself. A racy romance novel might not have been what you had in mind when you sent my 9 year-old self to the library to write short stories during reading time, but… here we are. ; )
Books by this author
Sin Series
Contemporary Romance
Mr. Sin (March 2021)
I should have run the other way. Paid my tab and gone back to my room. But he was there. And he was… everything. I figured what’s the harm in letting passion rule my decisions for one night? So what if he looks like the Devil in a suit. I’d be leaving in the morning. Flying home, back to my pleasant but predictable life. I’d never see him again.
Except I do. In the last place I expected. And now everything I’ve worked so hard for is in jeopardy.
We can’t stop what we’ve started, but this is bigger than the two of us.
And when his past comes back to haunt him, love might not be enough to save me.
Sin Too (April 2021)
Beth
It started with tragedy.
And secrets.
Hidden truths that refused to stay buried have come out to chase me. Now I’m on the run, living under a blanket of constant fear, pretending to be someone I’m not. And if I’m not really me, how am I supposed to know what’s real?
Angelo
Watch the girl.
It was supposed to be a simple assignment. But like everything else in this family, there’s nothing simple about it. Not my task. Not her fake name. And not my feelings for her.
But Beth is mine now.
So when the monsters from her past come out to play, they’ll have to get through me first.
Sleet Series
Romantic Comedy
Sleet Kitten (May 2021)
There are a few things that life doesn’t prepare you for. Like what to do when a super-hot guy catches you sneaking around in his basement. Or what to do when a mysterious package shows up with tickets to a hockey game, because apparently, he’s a professional athlete. Or how to handle it when you get to the game and realize he’s freaking famous since half of the 20,000 people in the stands are wearing his jersey.
I thought I was a well-adjusted adult, reasonably prepared for life. But one date with Jackson Wilder, a viral video, and a “I didn’t know she was your mom” incident, and I’m suddenly questioning everything I thought I knew.
But he’s fun. And great. And I think I might be falling for him. But I don’t know if he’s falling for me too, or if he’s as much of a player off the ice as on.
Sleet Sugar (June 2021)
My friends have convinced me. No more hockey players.
With a dad who is the Head Coach for the Minnesota Sleet, it seemed like an easy decision.
My friends have also convinced me that the best way to boost my fragile self-esteem is through a one-night stand.
A dating App. A hotel bar. A sexy-as-hell man, who’s sweet, and funny, and did I mention? sexy-as-hell… I fortified my courage and invited myself up to his room.
Assumptions. There’s a rule about them.
I assumed he was passing through town. I assumed he was a businessman, or maybe an investor, or accountant, or literally anything other than a professional hockey player. I assumed I’d never see him again.
I assumed wrong.
Sleet Banshee (July 2021)
Mother-freaking hockey players. My friends found their happily-ever-afters with a couple of sweet, doting, over-the-top, in-love athletes. They got nicknames like Kitten and Sugar. But me? I got stuck with a dickhead who riles me up on purpose and calls me Banshee. Yeah, he might have a voice made explicitly for wet dreams. And he might have a body and face carved by the gods. And he might have a level of Alpha-hole that gets me all hot and bothered.
But when he presses my buttons, he presses ALL of my buttons. And I’m not the type of girl who takes things sitting down. And I only got caught on my knees that one time. In the museum.
But when my decisions get one of my friends hurt… I can’t stop blaming myself. And him.
Except he can’t take a hint. And I can’t keep my panties on.