Three Simple Rules (Blindfold Club 1)

“Do you know how much I love you?”

“Yes.”

He was breathing rapidly, but I had no idea if it was from what he was saying, or the twenty-six miles he’d just run. “Do you want to spend the rest of your life with me?”

My idiot brain tried to come back online, and I shot an accusatory look at his brother. Nick had been carrying that ring all morning and had passed it to Logan without a word. “You told him I was coming.”

“Yeah,” Nick said, sheepish. “I was worried it would mess with his head too much if you weren’t there, and then showed up.”

“You’re breaking my rule, Evie,” Logan said. My overwhelmed mind struggled to figure out if he’d meant it playfully or seriously. Emotional tears blurred my vision.

“Will you marry me?”

He’d been with April twelve years and never done this. In less than three months with me, he was sure. And I was sure too. I wouldn’t fail at loving him. Wasn’t even possible.

“Yes,” I said.

It was barely a word, but it registered all the same. He took my shaky hand and slipped the band onto my finger, where it felt like it belonged. Strangers around us cheered and congratulated us. All I wanted was to be in his arms, and it looked like he had the same desire.

Then Logan made the mistake of trying to stand, and his face filled with alarm. “I’m not sure I can move.”

Nick hooked a hand under an arm and hauled Logan’s stiff body upright, ignoring the groan of discomfort this action caused his older brother. I ignored it too. I threw my arms around Logan’s neck, his sweat-soaked shirt beneath my hands. I loved it. I loved everything about him.

His mouth was hot and tasted like cherries from his energy gels, and he answered my urgent kiss by matching my intensity. A hand snaked behind my back to hold me against him, pressing me into his damp body and heaving chest.

“Did that really just happen?” I said in between his breathy kisses.

“I asked Hilary to get it on video because there are some people who are going to need visual proof.”

“Like Mom,” Nick chimed in.

I stared at the ring on my left hand which was still trembling when lips found mine and stole my focus. Holy shit, my fiancé knew how to kiss.

“Okay,” Nick interrupted, “congrats and all, but can you maybe hydrate so I don’t have to carry you when your muscles cramp up?”

I don’t think Logan wanted to. When I tried to release him so he could head to the table with water bottles, his arm remained locked around me.

“Are you okay?” I whispered.

He grinned. “Oh, yeah.”

He was sweaty, and gorgeous, and . . . happy.

And he was mine.

chapter

TWENTY-SIX

The Saturday after Thanksgiving, my phone rang at five forty-five in the morning, bathing our bedroom in pale blue light. My hand fumbled and yanked it off the charger, and my bleary eyes looked at the screen. It was a number I didn’t recognize.

“Hello?”

“Hey, it’s Payton.”

“Who’s dead?” I whispered into the phone, terrified. She knew better than to call this early.

“I am.” Payton’s voice was frantic. “Sorry I woke you.”