Page 40 of Big D!ck Energy

I hesitated. “A legacy beyond fighting. I want to be remembered for something meaningful.” I cleared my throat. “People see the showman, the magazine covers. Sometimes I wonder if anyone sees the rest.”

“I see it,” she said, her voice softer.

A warm feeling spread through my chest. “If you weren't a fighter, what would you be doing?”

“It was my turn,” I laughed softly. “But… Probably teaching, maybe. History. I have a degree most people don't know about.”

“Seriously?”

“Yep. Bachelor's in History from UF. Graduated with honors while training.”

“Dallas Dodger, secret intellectual. The tabloids would explode.” There was genuine admiration in her voice.

“My turn,” I said. “What makes you happiest? Not work or success, just pure joy.”

She was quiet for so long, I thought she might not answer. “Thunderstorms,” she finally said. “Sitting on a porch with a blanket, watching lightning. It's the only time my brain stops planning and just... exists.”

I filed that information away. “Interesting.”

“My turn. What's your guilty pleasure?”

“Reality dating shows,” I admitted without hesitation. “I've seen every season of The Bachelor. My teammates would never let me hear the end of it.”

She yawned suddenly, covering her mouth with the back of her hand. “Sorry. It's been a long day.”

“We should sleep,” I agreed, though I found myself reluctant to end our conversation. “Long day tomorrow.”

She nodded, settling deeper into her pillows. “Goodnight, Dallas.”

“Goodnight, Mrs. Dodger.”

“Don't push it,” she murmured, but there was no heat in her words.

I reached over and turned off the lamp between our beds, plunging the room into darkness except for the neon glow filtering through the curtains. In the dim light, I could just make out her silhouette as she turned onto her side, facing away from me.

I lay there in the dark, listening to her breathing gradually slow and deepen. I closed my eyes, but sleep didn't come immediately. In the faint neon glow, I watched her chest rise and fall with each breath. Soon we'd fly home as husband and wife. Tonight, for the first time, I wondered what it might be like if this wasn't just for show.

CHAPTER 14

THE HUSBAND I DIDN’T ORDER BUT CAN’T RETURN

DAVINA

The ballroom of the Bellagio glowed with thousands of tiny lights strung across the vaulted ceiling like captured stars. I stood at the edge of the dance floor, champagne flute in hand, my hips swaying to the music. Couples twirled past in a blur.

Perfect. That was the only word for the day.

The ceremony had been perfect… And the reception was magical.

My best friend was married. Truly, genuinely, married to someone she loved and who thought she hung the moon.

I took another sip of champagne, pushing away the thought of my own wedding. If you could even call an accidental drunken night in Vegas a wedding.

“You're thinking too loud.”

The low rumble of Dallas’s voice directly behind me sent an involuntary shiver down my spine. I didn't need to turn around to know he was close. I could feel the heat radiating from his body, smell the subtle spice of his cologne.

I did turn, though, and found myself nose-to-chest with six feet four inches of irritatingly attractive male wrapped in a tailored tuxedo.