I felt so freaking huge.

Probably because I was huge. I still had a few more weeks before my due date, but I could tell that I was practically on the verge of giving birth. I was ready to be done with this stupid pregnancy and get on with my life.

But I was too nervous to really worry about that.

“Are you almost ready?” I called out.

“Almost.”

He took forever to get dressed. I could never get over that. For such a big, tough man, Bull sure could take forever to get ready.

“How’s this?”

I looked over as he walked out into the living room. He wore a suit that was clearly made for him, fitting in all the right places, plus the glasses that I convinced him to wear during interviews.

“Perfect,” I said. “You look great.”

He grunted. “I still hate these glasses.”

“Trust me, they soften you a little bit. And we all know you could use a little softening.”

Bull laughed and joined me on the couch. “I’m not a soft man, though.”

“I don’t know. You sure do take forever to get ready, a lot like a woman.”

“Are you calling me a woman?”

I smiled at him. “Maybe. And what are you going to do about it?”

“Nothing. You’re too pregnant. You’re not thinking clearly.”

I laughed and playfully smacked his arm. He grinned at me and kicked his feet up, leaning back.

After the article was released, there was an absolute shit storm of calls and messages from reporters. Bull ignored it all, as instructed by Lacy, but it was unrelenting. For almost a month, the only thing the sports world could talk about was Bull Dixon.

But Bull Dixon wasn’t talking. The only person he spoke with was his friend Calvin. His coaches weren’t calling him, and neither was the owner. As far as Bull could tell, his team was basically acting like the article never happened.

Which was strange, because they were getting a ton of shit for it. More scandals broke in the wake of Bull’s article, some of them planted by Lacy and her team and some of them legitimate attempts by the mob to make him look bad.

But as Lacy had predicted, nothing stuck. The only things people really talked about were in the article.

And not all of the press was bad. A lot of people were really getting into the story of a young boy who took on his father’s debt to save his mother only to be corrupted by it in the long run. He was getting a lot of sympathy from people.

But he was also getting a lot of vitriol. There was a petition being passed around that wanted Bull to be suspended from the NFL, and the commissioner was apparently thinking about some kind of disciplinary action.

Training camp was coming up in a week, and nothing was resolved. I could remember how angry Bull was that his team hadn’t even contacted him yet. He hated all the lies and the speculation going around, but I did my best to shelter him from the worst of it. He spent most of his time either at the gym with Calvin or back home with me in those weeks.

And then suddenly, a week before training camp, Bull got a call from the commissioner of the NFL and from his team’s owner.

They weren’t going forward with any serious disciplinary actions. There would be a small fine for breaking NFL code of conduct rules, but otherwise he was cleared to play.

I’d never forget the smile on his face after that. He was like a whole new man.

And then training started and the season began. Watching the NFL season from the inside was an insane experience, and I couldn’t wait to do it all over again.

Game after game, Bull had the best season of his life, probably because he felt like he had something to prove, but also because his whole team was playing incredibly well.

Win after win, game after game, the Chicago Bears crawled up through the rankings until they blew through the playoffs, destroying every opponent.

Bull cocked his head at me. “What?” he asked.

“Nothing,” I said. “I was just remembering the way things were. You know, before the season started.”

“Oh, you mean when I was in a hell of bullshit journalists?”

“Basically, yeah. And not all journalists are bullshit.”

“Says the journalist who tried to seduce me for a story.”

“I didn’t try. I did seduce you.”

“Look at what that got you, a baby on the way and a bastard in your bedroom.”

“I’m not complaining.”

“Good,” he said. “Anyway, at least they stopped asking about the article, more or less. Tonight should be easy.”

Bull had a media event with the rest of his team in preparation for the Super Bowl, and although he still hated journalists, he didn’t seem to be dreading it as much.

“The game is tomorrow,” I said. “Are you ready?”

“Of course I’m ready.”

“Good. I’m proud of you, you know.”

“Of course you’re proud.” He grinned at me and I laughed.

“Okay, don’t get too cocky.”

“There’s actually something I wanted to ask you before I left.”

“What’s that?”

He stood up. “Come with me.”

“Where?”

“The balcony.” He took my hands and helped me up. “Come on, little girl.”

“Not so little,” I grumbled, but I followed him, curious.

He slid the door open. The balcony was covered in candles, a hundred little flames. There was a bucket of champagne and two glasses on the table, and rose petals littered the ground.

I gasped, shocked. “What is this?”

“Come here.” He led me into the middle of the balcony. It was cold outside, and I couldn’t help but shiver. “I wanted to ask you something.”

“Bull, what’s happening?” My heart was racing, and I was so nervous. I didn’t know how he had possibly set this up, since I’d been home all day. I suddenly forgot all about the cold.

“Charlotte, I love you. I love you more than I thought I could. I love you and that baby you’re carrying.” He dropped down to one knee, and I thought I might pass out. He took a ring from his jacket pocket. “Marry me.”

I stared at him, shocked beyond shocked. The ring was huge, gorgeous, and perfect. “Yes,” I managed to say. “Yes. Of course I’ll marry you.”

“Good.” He took my finger and slid the ring on. It fit perfectly.

He stood up and threw his arms around me, kissing me hard. I laughed and probably cried a little bit, but it didn’t matter.

I was going to marry Bull Dixon. I was going to be his wife, and that couldn’t have been more perfect.

“Are you sure you want to marry a big old pregnant lady like me?” I asked him.

He laughed. “I can’t wait to get you pregnant again. That’s how much I love you pregnant.”

“You’re crazy.” I couldn’t stop smiling, and he couldn’t stop kissing me.

We stood on the balcony together, surrounded by candles, on the eve of the biggest game of his career. We had come so far together, so incredibly far. Bull had overcome so much, and he had saved my life. He made me realize what was important, and I couldn’t thank him enough for that.

And now I was going to be his wife. I was going to have his little baby girl, and I couldn’t wait. I wanted to scream with joy and cry, but instead I just kissed him on the balcony overlooking the city.

It was perfect. He was perfect. I felt like this moment could last forever.

It would last forever, because I’d live that moment with Bull over and over again as we built our life together. We could do anything together.

I knew we could do anything together. We had already proved that. We had already beaten back so much pain and created a tiny bubble of joy and happiness together. We inhabited our own world where nobody else could touch us, no matter who they were, no matter what happened. We sheltered and protected each other, because that was what love did. It built up houses and homes that kept the outside world at bay and only let the good things through. We’d built that together and so much more.

I couldn’t wait to see what else we could do together.