Dawn of Forever (Jack & Jill 3)

Luke’s voice grew nearer. “You adore me?”

“Yes. This guy I once knew, told me adoration is better. It means to love and admire.” She tried to turn the handle again, knowing he was right on the other side of the door. “Let me in.” She laughed.

“How long?”

“How long what?”

Luke waited a few long seconds to answer. The lock clicked.

“How long will you adore me?”

The birthday boy had some crazy questions. How could he not know that answer?

“Forever, you know tha—” She opened the door. Shock paralyzed her entire body.

A glorious technicolor of sticky notes covered every surface of his office, floor to ceiling. Her favorite Staples aisle exploded in Luke’s office. There must have been thousands of sticky notes. In the middle of the paper sea: Luke on two knees. He held a small box with a neon pink sticky note on it that read “Marry me?”

“This is where it all began. This is where you ruined me for every other woman. I think I loved you before I ever knew you because it’s never felt like a choice for me. It’s just something as certain as the change of the seasons, the tilt of the earth, the dawn welcoming a new day.”

He looked around the room. “I know flower petals would have been the normal thing to do, but my girl has a Staples obsession—”

“It’s not an obsess—”

“It is.” He grinned.

She did too.

“Jessica Mauve Day, I want you to marry me more than I want my heart to beat. This love I have for you is beyond any kind of insanity I’ve ever encountered. Every second we’re apart it feels like I’m holding my breath, and the moment you walk through the door I gasp for air. You fill my lungs and flow through my veins, giving me life. I know all you see is your past, but all I see is our future. I don’t want a wall of pillows between us. I don’t want to talk about your past anymore. I want you to let go. I want you to free fall into my arms and know I’ve got you. I’ll always have you.”

Loving Luke became the most beautiful redemption for a life filled with stolen innocence. Giving herself to him in body, mind, soul, and name would close the door to her past and open the door to life. A real life.

“I’m messy.” She bit back her grin.

“You’re the worst.” Luke refused to hide his smile. It looked truly stunning on his handsome face.

“I’m stubborn.”

“Contumacious.”

She giggled. “I can’t cook.”

“I’d rather starve than eat what you make.”

She pinched her lips together and nodded. “I think this could work.”

He flipped open the box. Her brow furrowed at its contents.

“I thought the future Mrs. Luke Jones needed her own key to my GTO.”

“Oh … well this is …” she grimaced.

Luke rolled his eyes to the ceiling with a sigh and head shake. “You made your own key already, didn’t you?”

Jessica nodded slowly. Luke chucked the box over his shoulder.

“Luke Thomas Jones?” Dropping her purse, she inched closer.

He rested his hands on her hips while she pressed her palms to his cheeks, relishing the feel of his soft stubble, the blue depths of his eyes gazing at her with pure, unequivocal love.

“Hmm?”

Tears pooled in her eyes. “If there were only one path to you, I’d take the heartache, the deaths, the loss, the pain … the insanity. I’d spend an eternity in Hell for one single breath with you.” Taking his hand, she pressed it against her chest. “Do you feel that? That’s you, Luke. You’re my heart.”

He turned his face to kiss her palm. “Please tell me that’s a yes.”

She blinked, releasing a laugh and fat tears filled with a lifetime of relief. “Yes!”

He reached into his pocket and retrieved a brilliant solitaire diamond set atop a platinum band. Then he slipped it onto her finger.

“Best. Birthday. Ever.” He looked up at her with complete nothing-could-ever-compare adoration.

Chapter Six

Knight

Hating Jackson came easy to Ryn after he rode off on Jillian’s Harley. His words tore through her heart with the brutality of a serrated knife.

Rip. Rip. Rip.

She didn’t want to think about him fucking other women. She didn’t want to be the victim anymore. And she definitely didn’t want to clean his house. Just the opposite. Starting in his bathroom, she squeezed all the shampoo and shower gel onto the floor and TP’d the rest of it. Then she proceeded to his bedroom, stripping the bed and dumping all the contents of his dresser drawers onto the floor. Saving the kitchen for last.

Eggs.

Chocolate syrup.

Beer.

Red Bull.

Ketchup and mustard.

It all painted the floor. She prayed Jillian didn’t return until Jackson had a chance to clean up everything, but something told her—woman to woman—Jillian would understand.

No man had brought out the crazy side of her. She despised Preston, never wanting to draw his attention to her because it always came in the form of a fist to her face or foot to her ribs.