Page 17 of The "I Do" Do-Over

Iawake to soft kisses on my cheeks. Smiling, I stretch and, without opening my eyes, reach for the man sharing my bed. My arms find him and circle his shoulders, pulling him down on top of me so I can kiss his lips.

“Good morning, gorgeous,” Boone says. I can feel his smile against my mouth.

Holding my breath, I open my eyes at last. And, just like every morning, there he is: my husband, giving me the second chance I don’t deserve.

The second chance I’m so damn grateful for.

“I love you,” I say. They’re the first words out of my mouth every morning, and the last words I say to Boone every night.

I’ve got a lot of time to make up for.

His eyes glitter with mischief. “I know. But I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of hearing it.”

Seizing his face, I pull him in for another kiss. God, what was I thinking when I ran from him in Vegas all those years ago? Boone is the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and I just about threw it all away.

I never thought I’d thank my lucky stars to be caught in an avalanche, but here we are. That sluff was just what I needed to knock some sense into me.

Of course, it also left me with a concussion, a sprained ankle, and a broken collarbone. Even now, a year later, my shoulder still aches when there’s rain in the air. I suspect it always will.

It sucks — but it’s also an effective reminder of what I almost didn’t have with Boone. A reminder that life is short, and that taking the risk to be with the one you love is always worth it.

“Are you ready for today?” he murmurs against the sensitive skin of my neck, making me shiver.

“I hope so. It’s only been years in the making.” I run my fingers through his hair. “I’m glad I get to share it with you.”

Today is my big grand opening — the first day of business for my tattoo shop. It’s a first not only for me, but for Heartwood too. Apparently, the folks here have been hungry for a tattoo shop because all my appointments for the next two weeks are fully booked.

I’ve already done my first tattoo though.

Capturing Boone’s hand with mine, I interlace our fingers, watching how our freshly-inked wedding bands slide against each other. I tattooed them a few weeks ago, once all my equipment was delivered and ready to go. Tattooed wedding rings seemed right, because just like the ink, our love is forever.

“I’m proud of you,” Boone’s saying. “I bet your shop is going to be epic.”

“I hope so too. But even if it isn’t,” I say with a slow smile, “I’m still the luckiest woman around because I’ve got you.”

“Damn straight,” my husband teases as he lowers his mouth to mine and makes my heart race all over again — just the way I like it.