"You're Mac," he says. "And I'm Jericho. And nothing else matters. Never will. You exist in a place that is beyond all rules for me. Do you understand that?"
I do. Jericho Barrons just told me he loves me.
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"And they say romance is dead," he teased, pulling her body into his as he kissed her, drawing out the moment until she broke away.
Val whispered, "Well?"
"Yeah, why not, I'm already shacking up with you. Might as well marry you and make you a tad bit respectable."
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“I fucking love you!” He grabbed each side of my face,
slamming his lips against mine. “I love you so much,
Pigeon,” he said, kissing me over and over.
“Just remember that in fifty years when I’m still kicking
your ass in poker,” I giggled.
He smiled, triumphant. “If it means sixty or seventy
years with you, Baby…you have my full permission to
do your worst.”
I raised one eyebrow, “You’re gonna regret that.”
“You wanna bet?”
I smiled with as much deviance as I could muster.”
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