by Tessa Teevan
I rest my forehead against his chest then lift up to look at him. “Don’t make me say it, Shane.”
“Say what?” he asks with feigned innocence.
I roll my eyes, rising onto my tiptoes to kiss him. “You, dear husband, are the sweetest gift of all.”
Shane’s jaw twitches and when I lean back to catch his eyes, I see he’s trying not to laugh. Playfully, I push him away, glaring at him while setting my hands on my hips. “Are you laughing at me?”
His shaking shoulders answer my question. When he finally settles, he places both hands on my shoulders. “That was the cheesiest thing I’ve ever heard.”
“I know we’re both new to this whole marriage thing, but I don’t think you’re supposed to laugh at your wife when she’s trying to be sweet. Especially since she had dinner ready for you the moment you walked in the door.”
Shane’s eyes crinkle with laughter as he steps away from me. He crosses to his briefcase, then pulls out his phone. I watch as he programs something into it, and then the soft sounds of Elton John and George Michael come over the apartment’s speaker system. I’m watching him curiously. When he comes back to me, he takes me into his arms and starts swaying around the kitchen.
“You once asked me why I call you Sunshine, and I was interrupted before I could answer.”
My mind wanders back to that day in Vegas and I smile at the memory. “I’m pretty sure that was the moment you realized you loved me, so I think the interruption is forgiven.”
“I’m not going to complain about that,” he replies, just as George hits the chorus.
His arms tighten around my waist. “I wish the story was more romantic, or the meaning grander, but… the first time I saw you wasn’t at the hot tub. It was in the lobby.”
I rear back and meet his eyes. “Really? You never told me that.”
He shrugs. “If you recall, there wasn’t a lot of time for conversation that night.”
“True, and good point.”
“Anyways, ‘Don’t Let The Sun Go Down on Me,’ was on and well, after checking out your ass, my first thought was that I wouldn’t mind you going down on me. Second thought upon seeing you at the hot tub was, definitely wanted you to go down on me. Thus, Sunshine.”
At this point, Shane’s halted our movements and he peers down at me in earnest, waiting for my response.
I do the only thing I can.
I burst into a hysterical fit of laughter.
Nothing about our relationship has been conventional, and the fact that Shane’s nickname for me didn’t come with any cheesy, sappy sentiment is pretty much the icing on the cake. I never thought I’d be here, especially with our journey, but I know I’ll never let anything else, not work, not an overbearing boss, not my own stubborn stupidity, get between us again. Life’s too short, and having already lost a year in which I could’ve been with Shane, I vow never to forget it or make the same mistakes again.
So once I calm my quaking laughter, I rise on my toes, slips my arms around my husband’s neck, and bring my forehead to his, my catching locking in on his gaze.
“I love you, Shane.”
“And I love you, Sunshine. Always.”
The End
Standalone stories for the other couples mentioned in this book can be found at the links below and all are available in Kindle Unlimited!
Ignite (Jace and Lexi)
Incinerate (Knox and Charlie)
Sweet Southern Sorrow (Sawyer and Cheyenne)
Combust (Cohen and Andi)
Conflagration (Branson and Ariana)
Sneak Peek of Conflagration
Curious about how Branson and Ariana found their own happily ever after? Check out this sneak peek and one-click today!
“GET THE FUCK OUT OF THE CAR!” I yell frantically, trying to pull the door handle, but failing miserably. As my fist pounds against the window, I can feel my heart beating wildly—thump, thump, thump—and hear the fire roaring in my ears.
Her beautiful eyes are wide with terror as she tugs on her seatbelt, only to confirm that it won’t budge one single fucking centimeter. Pounding on the window, I’m screaming at her, begging her, pleading beyond reproach, but it’s as if she doesn’t hear me. She keeps shaking her head, the expression on her face one of defeat. Like she’s accepted her fate—that the flames will destroy her—and somehow, she’s at peace with it. And there’s not a fucking thing I can do to save her.
Turning to look at the wreckage around us, I know I’m racing against time and it won’t be long before the semi cab’s engine blows high into the sky. My brain is screaming at me to run away, to find safety, but then I look back into the car. Her hand presses against the glass, her fingers spreading, and she looks at me, tears filling her eyes. I press my hand to the window, covering hers, and in that instant, the world around us stops. Our eyes lock, knowing we may be the last thing each other sees, and for a split second, there’s recognition in her eyes. There’s a familiarity here, as if I’ve met her before, but I can’t place her. I’m transfixed on her for a moment, trying to figure out how I know her.
I no longer feel the heat on my back, the flames on my face. All I see is her. All I feel is her. She’s someone important—I can feel it deep down in my soul, but I’m not sure why. Without question, something inside me shifts, and I start pounding my fist against the glass, knowing I need to get her out of there.
She bangs on the window, our fists both working against the glass. Yet, instead of trying to break it, she’s telling me to get out, to move away. Valuing her life over mine, which really isn’t saying much.
A small sense of victory washes over me when a crack finally appears in the glass. Motioning for her to move away, I watch and wait as she leans into the passenger’s seat, out of harm’s reach as I start hitting the crack. The sound of shattering glass brings on sweet relief as I finally break through the fucking window, my fingers fumbling as I dive into the car, barely registering the feel of glass stabbing my torso as I lean in.
I try to unbuckle her seatbelt, but it’s no use. The fucking thing won’t dislodge, and I start to panic the moment I hear her sobbing.
“Let me go. It’s no use. Get out of here before you’re burned to ashes, too,” she sobs, her voice wavering.
She refuses to look at me, and in that moment, I don’t care about myself. I’d give my life for this beautiful, familiar stranger. It’s a surprising thought because I’ve always been a selfish asshole, but seeing her there, vulnerable and ready to give up for me, I’m aware that, for once in my life, I can put someone else first. And I goddamn fucking will.
Grabbing the multi-tool from my belt, I thank the Lord my dad always made me carry one, even if it is more for cracking beer than tool use. I flip the knife out and make quick work of cutting through the material. Once she’s released, she falls against my chest, and I sigh in deep relief. A loud pop interrupts the moment, and she wraps her arms around my neck. With as much care as possible, I pull her through the broken window, wincing as every single inch of shattered glass pierces my skin.
“Oh my God. You saved me,” she murmurs, and I watch as blood trickles down her forehead.
“I’m no savior, baby. I usually destroy everything around me,” I admit, knowing she probably won’t remember this interaction.
“That’s not true. You could’ve left me to die, and you didn’t. You came back for me. No one ever comes back for me,” she whispers, her voice trailing off as her head starts to lull off to the side. The blood from her head wound continues to trail down her face, and I mentally panic as she slowly falls into unconsciousness.
Looking up, I’m straining to hear the distant sirens, begging beyond hope that help arrives in time. I’m standing in the middle of the road with a beautiful woman in my arms, and for once, I have no idea what to do.
Before I can catch my bearings, I hear a high-pitched hiss, and moments later, my vision explodes in flashes of yellow, orange, red, and blue. Somehow, I hold
on to her tight even as I’m thrown forward, my arms tightening around her as we fall to the ground. Settling in on the side of the road, I roll to my side with her still in my arms. Pain flows through me, but she’s the one I’m concerned about. She’s the one I want to be safe. Me? I could die right now and no one could care. But her? I’d never fucking forgive myself if I don’t keep her safe.
I feel the heat at my back, and I hold her tighter, my body cocooning hers to keep the flames at bay. Voices shout in the distance, but my vision turns blurry, and no matter how hard I try to fight it, everything fades to black.
Buy Conflagration here
Tessa Teevan is a twenty-something book junkie who decided that there were too many stories in my head to keep to myself. It’s a crazy, busy life, and she loves every single second of it. She’s a research analyst by day, reads/writes by night, and is married to a guy 15 inches taller than her, making them quite the pair!
They currently reside just outside of Dayton, OH with two adorably grumpy cats. If she’s not writing or scouring through tons of photos of hot men, all in the name of research, then you can probably find her curled up with her Kindle, ignoring the rest of the world. She loves her sports almost as much as she loves her books. Her other obsessions include red wine, hot men, rock music, and all things Corey Taylor.
She adores hearing from readers, so please feel free to contact via any social media site!
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