Addicted (Ethan Frost #2)(81)

We’re at my vineyard in Tuscany, where the grapevines go on as far as the eye can see.

Where the sky turns burnished orange and gold and red in the early evenings.

Where there is beauty—rich, powerful, unforgettable beauty—in every inch of land, in every particle of air.

And still Chloe Girard Frost is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.

At this moment, she’s standing barefoot in the middle of an old-fashioned grape press, head down, long blond hair blowing in the wind, skirt tucked between her thighs. Her feet are dyed a deep maroon as she stomps, stomps, stomps at the grapes and her hands are curved over her gently rounded belly.

One of the vintner’s says something to her and she throws her head back and laughs and laughs and laughs. It’s a gorgeous sound. A magical one. And one that I will never take for granted.

It’s been a year since she walked into my life, a year since she turned it upside down and inside out. A year since she burrowed inside of me, laid me open. Laid me bare. And I don’t regret one moment of it.

How can I when she’s given me everything I didn’t know I was missing? Everything I didn’t know I needed?

I wake up in the middle of the night sometimes, heart pounding, chest heaving, body so tense that I feel like I’m going to break in half. Terrified that she’s gone. Terrified that I’ve lost her.

But she’s always there, her hand finding mine in the darkness, her body curving itself so perfectly around my own. In those moments I know that I would die for her, would kill her for.

She says I’m her addiction, her obsession. It only seems fair since she’s that and so much more to me. She’s my heart, my soul, my everything and she has been almost from the moment we met.

I don’t know how I got so blessed, but I thank the universe every day. And every day I vow to take care of her and our unborn child. To make her happy. To make her smile.

Because she is beautiful, inside and out. Beautiful and perfect and mine.