Endurance (Harris Brothers, #2)

by Amy Daws

A gust of air flies out of my mouth. “How did you get that all said in one breath?” I’m panting with fear. “Because, I’m Jesus,” she states, her face revealing nothing but icy, dark, dangerous promise. I swallow hard and give my balls a touch again. Thank fuck they are still there. “Well, Messiah, I promise I won’t let you down.”

“It said, ‘When you don’t know what to do, sit still.’” He sighs heavily with realisation dawning on his features. “I was sitting still before, Belle, but I’m done with that now. This is new territory for me, but I’m asking you to move…with me.” I smile at his sincerity and take his hand in mine, dropping a kiss on the back of it before answering, “Let’s get our arses in gear then.”

“Camden, don’t get soft on me. Your vagina is showing again.”

I roll my eyes and glance around the room for inspiration. When I see one of his feet sticking out of the covers, I say in clipped notes, “I hate your pinkie toe.” “What?” He looks down at his offensive foot. “It sticks out to the side…It looks like a birth defect.” His face drops in dismay. “That’s rather specific.” “It makes me sick,” I sputter. “Well, I’m not asking you to suck it!” His eyes are accusatory and annoyed, our glorious and agreeable bubble well and popped now. “The minute you do, we’ll be divorced faster than you can—” He dives across the bed and tackles me, silencing my words with a kiss. “I fucking love you, future wife.” I giggle and look up at him. “I fucking love you, future husband.”

“Well, I love her and she loves me, so we’re getting married. Sod all of you. You’re not invited.”

“Dad, I love her. It was like…it felt like…” I stammer. “Like…marry her or quit breathing, and I chose to marry her. Football wasn’t even a factor.” His eyes soften. “You really love her.” I huff. “More than I even knew I could.” A glossiness shimmers in his gaze and he frowns, clearing his throat. “What is it?” I ask. He shakes his head. “I proposed to your mother after only two weeks. Seeing your face today is bringing back memories.”

“I’m out. This is ridiculous. I quit being a Harris.” Booker groans, pulling on the tight fabric beneath his sweats, awkwardly adjusting his package.

“It’s for a great cause!” I roar. “Now let’s go out there, bro up, cup our nutty buddies, and do this!”

He tips his head to me with a sneaky smirk, and I shake my own back at him. He might be the most brilliant pervert I’ve ever met.