A Year Later

Jase

The tattoo machine hovers above the center of my chest.

"You're sure, man?" the artist asks, giving me one last chance to change my mind.

"Hell, yeah." No way I'm backing out of this. I'm going to give Lena a proposal she'll remember for the rest of her life.

The tattooist, a guy by the name of Mercy, shakes his head. "She must be some woman."

I grin as he sets the machine to my skin and it starts buzzing. "She's amazing." Tiny needles plunge into me, forming a black line. "She's so out of my fucking league."

Mercy raises a brow but doesn't look away from his work, and his hands remain perfectly steady. "You're Jase Rawlins. No one is out of your league."

I laugh, because he doesn't get it. Lena isn't the one who's lucky in this relationship, I am—although I do make sure she gets as many top-notch orgasms as she can handle. It's no less than she deserves for loving my stupid ass and for striking the devil's bargain with Erin to save me. Not that I let her go to her parents with her hand out for my sake. Fuck, no. As soon as I found out what she'd agreed to, I paid off Erin's loans myself. It was a small sum for me, and well worth it to preserve Lena's dignity.

"Tell me about her," he says, finishing the outline of an "L" and moving on to the next letter. I hope Lena understands what it means for me to have her name over my heart. I wish it could be larger, but unfortunately most of the real estate in that area is already taken.

"She's perfect," I say, grinning like a goober. "Clever, loyal, beautiful, feisty as hell."

"Sounds like my kind of girl."

"Hands off," I reply, good-naturedly. "She's all mine."

He laughs. "I'm not gonna fight you for her, bro. I'm smarter than that." He continues working and I stay on my back and answer questions about my most recent fight. It's just as well I don't have any in the near future or Seth would flip out at the sight of my new tattoos. As it is, I'm expecting plenty of jibes from my brothers. When the artist finishes, he repeats care instructions I've heard a dozen times before. I barely listen, too distracted by the nerves buzzing in my stomach. Persistent and loud.

I'm going to ask Lena to marry me. What if she says no?

She won't. She loves me. Nevertheless, the nerves settle in. They won't go anywhere until after I hear a 'yes' from the lips of the woman I love.

Leaving the parlor, I head straight to the jewelers. I've already chosen a ring, and they've been resizing it for me. Fortunately, Sydney knew Lena's ring size. Apparently that's something women talk about. She's been an absolute godsend the past few weeks, and to top it off, she's keeping Lena busy at a spa until I'm ready to woo her tonight.

She's going to be so fucking wooed she never looks at another man again.

I pay the jeweler an exorbitant amount and receive a small black box in return. Opening it, I gaze down at the sparkling white-gold diamond ring nestled inside. It's flashy, but elegant. Sexy, but not over the top. I think it suits her, but then, what do I know?

When I arrive back at my place, my friends are already there. Gabe, Devon, Seth and Nick are on board with my big plan and they've started decorating. There's a trail of red petals from the entrance to the twin glass doors that open onto the deck, and Devon glances up from where he's scattering them.

"Can I see your ink?"

Shaking my head, I admire his handiwork. "Sorry, brother, no can do. Lena is going to be the first to see it."

He finishes with the petals and straightens. "You're so under her thumb that I'm embarrassed for you."

"That's only because you don't get the benefits."

He winks. "For your sake, I hope there are a lot of benefits."

"Oh, there are." Lena and I are combustible together. But even better is the way she makes me feel like I'll never be alone again. Never be unwanted or misunderstood. Fuck, I love her. "Where're the others?"

Devon jerks his head toward the deck. It's currently empty because I don't have much free time to laze in the sun, but Lena has been dropping hints about getting a table and sunchair for weeks now. I hope she likes my surprise.

"Seth and Gabe are assembling the table, and Nick is..." He shrugs. "Supervising, I guess."

I wince. Nick is a great manager, but he isn't one to get his hands dirty—a fact that probably isn't going over well with the others. "I'd better make sure everything is coming along all right."

Outside, Seth is putting the finishing touches on a kitset table while Gabe is piecing together the chairs. Nick is hovering over him, offering suggestions, and Gabe's jaw cranks tighter with each one.

"How's it coming?" I ask, just as Nick—thankfully—takes a phone call.

"Nearly there," Seth replies. "If you give me a hand, we can move this wherever you want it."

Grabbing the opposite end, I heft it up and together we shift it to the center of the deck, into a position where I can see Devon approaching with his trail of petals. I turn to join Gabe, but Seth stops me with a hand on my shoulder.

"You ready?" he asks, voice low. "Do you need to rehearse or something?"

"Nah. I've got this. But thanks."

He nods, expression serious. "The candlesticks are in a box in the kitchen, and Devon picked out your nicest dining ware, ready to go."

"Thanks. I owe you."

Seth seems to be taking this whole proposal business just as seriously as I am, and I can't help but wonder if it's because of how wrong things went for him in his marriage. Not that he's been terribly open about what happened.

"The tablecloth is laid out, too," he adds.

"I'll start setting the table if you want to finish up the chairs with Gabe," I say.

We part ways, and I head for the kitchen, finding a white linen tablecloth that looks like it's been freaking ironed, and a box of candlesticks, just as Seth said. I carry them outside, drape the tablecloth, and arrange the silver candlestick holders along the middle, adding three candles to each one. Devon has put napkins and wine glasses aside to go with the dinnerware, but I haven't the faintest clue how to make them they look pretty so it's a relief when he takes over.

Finally, after another half hour of hustle, everyone has gone, and I'm sipping a beer, waiting for Lena to get home. A car rolls up the drive, and I toss my beer in the trash and pop a mint before she makes it to the house. Straining my ears, I catch the faint sound of her voice as she says goodbye to Sydney, and then I hurry to the table to wait for her. The door opens, and she calls my name.

"Through here," I reply, and she appears like a vision in the doorway. The sexiest vision I've ever seen. She's wearing a wraparound silk dress that's new, and red pumps that strap halfway up her calf. I swallow my tongue. What's the bet she's also bought lingerie and is hiding it under that hot-as-fuck dress?

Her gaze follows the trail of petals all the way to the table, then lingers on the candles before landing on me.

Her brow furrows. "What's all this?"

I rise—because that seems like the kind of thing a gentleman would do at a time like this. "Did you have a nice day at the spa?"

"Best. Massage. Ever." She crosses to me and drops a kiss on my lips.

"Nuh-uh," I growl. "You're not getting away that easy." Wrapping my hand around the back of her neck, I sweep her legs out from under her and drag her onto my lap.

She wriggles her ass over my crotch. "You going to kiss me, or what?"

I give the lady what she wants, locking our lips, sweeping the inside of her mouth with my tongue. Tasting her, tasting my future. When she's nice and limp in my arms, I lift her onto the chair beside me. She makes an "oomph" and pouts. When I drop to my knees, her eyes fly open and the pout falls away.

"You want to know what I did while you were gone?" I ask her, holding her gaze and knowing I'll be happy to drown in her blue eyes forever. She nods, and slowly I raise my shirt. The surface of my skin burns, but I barely notice because Lena's attention is glued to me, and her throat bobbles as she swallows.

"Oh, my God," she whispers, shock written in her expression. "I can't believe you did that."

"Believe it, baby." I study her, trying to figure out whether she likes it. Based on the way her lips curve, I think she does, but my heart is in my throat as I drop my shirt and take her hands in mine. This is it. My big moment. More important than any championship fight. Scarier than any opponent I've ever faced.

I can't screw this up. I can't live without her.

"I love you, Lena LaFontaine, with everything I have and everything I am. I'm no poet, but you make me wish I was, so I could explain the way I feel. There are no words for it, at least, none that I know." Drawing in a deep breath, I release one of her hands and fish in my pocket until I find the little black box I collected earlier. "Since I can't tell you how I feel, the best I can do is show you. I want to dedicate the rest of my life to loving you." Opening the box, I offer the ring to her. "Marry me?"

"Oh, my God, yes!" She claims my mouth in a searing kiss, and then yanks at my collar. "Get off your knees, Jase."

I stand, grabbing her hand and slipping the ring on her finger. It looks right there. Like it belongs. Like she belongs to me. Damn right, she does.

"Do you like it?" I ask, wincing at the plea for reassurance in my voice.

Holding it up to the candlelight, she studies each facet, her smile growing broader and broader. Finally, she puts me out of my misery. "It's beautiful."

"Just like you."

"Jaaase," she groans, dragging a hand down her face. "So corny." Then she straightens. "Show me that tattoo again."

I strip off my upper half for her inspection. Her name is in bold letters across the center of my chest, a small silhouette of her face below.

"I really can't believe you did this," she says, although her smile is becoming smug. She likes having her name on me. Likes thinking of me as hers, for all the world to see. I get it, I'm the same. That's why her first tattoo was my name, on her ass. If I have my way, no one else will ever see it. But if they do... well, that motherfucker better think twice.

"I'd do anything for you," I murmur, extricating myself from her grip and pulling her to her feet, my hands linking at her lower back. "What do you think?"

"I think..." She nibbles on her lip, intentionally torturing me by drawing out her reply. "I think that I want every woman you ever meet to know you're mine, and this is a pretty straightforward way of doing it. Unsubtle. As your PR rep, I can't say it'll win you any female fans, but as your fiancé, I say it's freaking hot."

I pepper the length of her neck with kisses and soft bites, then sweep my tongue over it. She shivers in my arms.

"Want to show me how hot?"

"But what about dinner?" she asks.

Glancing at the covered dishes, waiting to be served, I shrug. "They can be reheated."

"Well, okay then." Sashaying away, she winks at me. "You're not the only one with a surprise tonight." She flicks her skirt up, giving me an eyeful of red silk garters on creamy white thighs. And is that a pair of crotchless panties...?

I chase after her, and she giggles and sprints into the house.

"Lena!"

Flashing those blue eyes over her shoulder, she asks, "Don't you mean 'future Mrs. Rawlins'?"

Oh, fuck. The words are so perfect, they nearly stop my heart. When I get my hands on her, she's not going to get away for a long, long time.

Like forever.

Maybe longer.

And she'll love every minute of it.

* * * * * * * * * *

Thank you for reading Fighter's Heart! I hope you enjoyed it.

If you'd like to read more of the series, including Gabe and Sydney's story, Fighter's Best Friend, you can access them on Radish here: https://radish.app.link/5bLLw8VeNpb

Or you can get Fighter's Best Friend on Amazon, Apple Books, Google Play Books, Barnes & Noble, or Kobo here: https://books2read.com/fighters-best-friend