Holding Strong
Page 148
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Logan hesitated, looked across the dance floor to his wife, Pepper, and shook his head. “I’d have done the same.”
Denver held out his left hand. “I appreciate the update.”
“Anytime.”
“I think I’ll go collect Cherry, now. I’m ready to call it a night.” More than ready to have her all to himself again.
He stole her away from Miles, who had just stolen her from Brand.
The life of the party—and the love of his life.
Her makeup now smudged and her hair completely loose, she smiled up at him. “It was a beautiful wedding.”
In the middle of the dance floor, he kissed her. “You’re beautiful.”
“I love you.”
“I love you more.” He had to constantly up the ante on her because he had a feeling she’d never let him forget how he’d dragged his feet over idiotic assumptions and mistaken perceptions.
He carried her shoes for her as they headed out. Stack and Vanity were nowhere to be found, but Armie remained in the middle of the dance floor with Merissa. Other women tried to cut in, but both he and Merissa ignored them.
Denver was grinning when they stepped outside and got hit with a surprise mob. Apparently word of Cannon’s wedding had gotten out and not only a few reporters hung out, but fans also. He groaned as three reporters started toward him.
Cherry started to fade back, but he didn’t let her. “Not tonight,” he whispered.
The first few questions were about Cannon, but Denver dodged them.
Cannon’s business was his own.
After that, reporters and fans alike threw out casual queries about his training, his opponent and his odds.
Denver took the time to answer, letting them know his opponent was good, his injury wasn’t serious and that he was in the best shape of his life.
“So you think you’ll win?” someone asked.
He stepped Cherry forward so that he could hug her from behind. “This is my future wife.”
The men cheered and the women groaned.
Blushing, Cherry wiggled her fingers at the different camera phones flashing. “I’m his biggest fan,” she announced.
So damn happy, Denver scooped her close, kissed her silly, and told the crowd what he already knew. “I’m a winner, and it doesn’t have a damn thing to do with how I do at the next fight.”
Cherry gave him an “aww” look and hugged him tight.
He headed to the car, but for the sake of the fans, Denver looked back. “But yeah, I’ll beat Packer. Look for a knockout in the second round.”
And right after that, he’d be marrying Cherry.
She’d gone through hell and come out swinging. And now she was all his.
“I’m so glad I didn’t give up on you.”
He laughed. No, she’d never let him live it down.
She was cute, sexy and voluptuous while still trim, adorably forgiving and wildly carnal. A survivor. A fighter.
Perfect for him.
He looked forward to her teasing for the rest of his life.
Denver held out his left hand. “I appreciate the update.”
“Anytime.”
“I think I’ll go collect Cherry, now. I’m ready to call it a night.” More than ready to have her all to himself again.
He stole her away from Miles, who had just stolen her from Brand.
The life of the party—and the love of his life.
Her makeup now smudged and her hair completely loose, she smiled up at him. “It was a beautiful wedding.”
In the middle of the dance floor, he kissed her. “You’re beautiful.”
“I love you.”
“I love you more.” He had to constantly up the ante on her because he had a feeling she’d never let him forget how he’d dragged his feet over idiotic assumptions and mistaken perceptions.
He carried her shoes for her as they headed out. Stack and Vanity were nowhere to be found, but Armie remained in the middle of the dance floor with Merissa. Other women tried to cut in, but both he and Merissa ignored them.
Denver was grinning when they stepped outside and got hit with a surprise mob. Apparently word of Cannon’s wedding had gotten out and not only a few reporters hung out, but fans also. He groaned as three reporters started toward him.
Cherry started to fade back, but he didn’t let her. “Not tonight,” he whispered.
The first few questions were about Cannon, but Denver dodged them.
Cannon’s business was his own.
After that, reporters and fans alike threw out casual queries about his training, his opponent and his odds.
Denver took the time to answer, letting them know his opponent was good, his injury wasn’t serious and that he was in the best shape of his life.
“So you think you’ll win?” someone asked.
He stepped Cherry forward so that he could hug her from behind. “This is my future wife.”
The men cheered and the women groaned.
Blushing, Cherry wiggled her fingers at the different camera phones flashing. “I’m his biggest fan,” she announced.
So damn happy, Denver scooped her close, kissed her silly, and told the crowd what he already knew. “I’m a winner, and it doesn’t have a damn thing to do with how I do at the next fight.”
Cherry gave him an “aww” look and hugged him tight.
He headed to the car, but for the sake of the fans, Denver looked back. “But yeah, I’ll beat Packer. Look for a knockout in the second round.”
And right after that, he’d be marrying Cherry.
She’d gone through hell and come out swinging. And now she was all his.
“I’m so glad I didn’t give up on you.”
He laughed. No, she’d never let him live it down.
She was cute, sexy and voluptuous while still trim, adorably forgiving and wildly carnal. A survivor. A fighter.
Perfect for him.
He looked forward to her teasing for the rest of his life.
