by Rose Wulf
“What conversation?” she asked, confusion as obvious on her face as it was in her voice.
“Whatever conversation you want to have,” he stated casually. “I know how this town works, and I know you’ve had direct, extended contact with two of our worst gossips. So I figure you’ve probably heard all sorts of things about me, and I’m not all that great at even thinking to talk about myself.”
Her lips twitched and she asked, “Are you asking me if there’s anything I’ve been wanting to ask you about?”
He grinned again and replied, “Pretty much. I didn’t want to assume I had some idea about what they’ve said.”
“Well,” she began, “Georgia never said much. She tried to all the time, of course, but I always cut her off.” She shrugged at his quizzical expression and said, “I’m not much on gossip. But you’re right in a way. Shutting Jay up isn’t so easy.”
“I’m sure I know a way,” he grumbled.
Arianna laughed and leaned up to press a quick kiss to his lips. When she leaned back she found and held his gaze, searching for something, and he knew there was at least one thing she was curious about. “Okay,” she finally said. “There is something I’ve been wanting to ask you about, I just … wasn’t sure how to bring it up, or if I even should.”
“Ari,” Dean began, “I’m an open book with you. Ask away.”
She smiled, a soft breath rushing from her lungs, and inclined her head. “Who’s Lila?”
Thought so. That was definitely a conversation Dean wouldn’t have known how to start on his own, but he completely understood why she’d ask. “Lila was my girlfriend in high school,” he stated. “She was my first serious girlfriend and we were together for a couple years. I told her my secret and she didn’t run away, and I figured that meant something.”
“You loved her,” Arianna deduced, a strangely unreadable note in her voice.
Dean inclined his head, but continued with a qualifier. “I thought I did, yeah. I thought she was it for me.” He hesitated, finding it more awkward to tell her the next part than to just be admitting it in general. “I made this big deal of our two-year anniversary. I convinced my parents to book us reservations at a nice restaurant in the city and everything. And that night I told her I loved her. She said it back and I thought we were set. Had our whole lives ahead of us and were already one step above the rest, you know?”
Expression softening, Arianna asked, “What happened?”
“That night,” he continued, “was the first night we spent together, believe it or not.” He paused, frowned with reflexive frustration, and added, “It was also the last. I didn’t actually stay over. Thought I could fool my parents that way. So I went to meet up with her at our usual spot the next morning, it was a school day, and found her tucked under another guy’s arm. She was smiling and laughing like they’d been together for a while.”
Arianna’s jaw ticked and she declared, “I’m sorry—for how much that must’ve hurt and also for what I’m going to say next—but Lila’s clearly a slut.”
“Thanks,” Dean grunted, absently running his thumbs over her hips, “but you don’t have to apologize. Now that I’ve grown up a little, I’ve made the same conclusion. The point is, that messed me up for a long time. It made me bitter and I thought I’d lost my faith in love and romance and happily ever after.” What the hell am I saying? This part’s supposed to come later, dammit! But he couldn’t seem to stop his tongue from plowing ahead. “I figure you’ve probably heard rumors that I’m either waiting for Lila to come crawling back or just using you for your body, or some shit like that, and I don’t want you to believe any of it.”
She offered him a small, soft smile and adjusted her hold until her arms were loosely wrapped around his shoulders. With her fingers toying with the back of his collar, she whispered, “I don’t believe them, Dean. If I thought that’s what this was, I’d be long gone. But that does leave me with another question.”
Dean arched a brow, grateful for assertion of control over the conversation. His plans might just be salvageable yet. “And what’s that?”
“You used the past tense,” she declared curiously. “You said you’d thought you’d lost your faith. So does that mean you’ve found it again?” Her tone was light, curious and calm, but something flickered behind her eyes that told him it was a front. This question was more important than she was letting on. More important than indulging her curiosity about his ex-girlfriend.
He pulled in a breath, hoped he could say it right, and replied, “Yeah, it does.” He tugged her close again, catching her lips in another lingering kiss, before murmuring, “Thanks to you. I want you to know … I love you, Arianna.”
Her eyes widened and, for a second, he wasn’t sure she took a breath. Then a smile lifted her lips and she whispered the most magical words he’d ever heard. “I love you, too.”
****
“The furniture store?” Arianna asked, a little incredulity slipping into her voice, as Dean eased into a parking space in front of the local furniture store. This really wasn’t where she’d expected him to take her after their romantic moment at the cliff. She still couldn’t believe he’d said those words—let alone that he’d said them first.
“I told you,” he replied with a chuckle, “I need your opinion on a couple things.”
Right, you did say that. She had definitely forgotten all about that detail. “You need my opinion on something here?” The apartment was crowded enough with his furniture and the portion of her possessions they’d brought in. What was he going to do with new stuff?
“Yep,” he declared as he popped his door open, leaving her no choice but to follow. She trailed half a foot behind him as he guided her into the store and through deliberately-positioned sofa sets. Everything looked gorgeous, of course. This wasn’t a middle-wage store. “Let’s see,” he mumbled, slowing. “It should be … ah, there.” He turned a grin over his shoulder to her, caught her hand, and took her toward a loveseat. Only, really, it looked more like two recliners attached by a sturdy drink holder. Still, it looked nice.
“This,” Dean stated, gesturing to the loveseat with his free hand. “I want your opinion on this. I saw it when Angie dragged me out here before.”
“Okay,” Arianna said slowly as she studied the object. “Well, I’m going to have to sit in it first.” She slipped her hand from his with a grin and promptly took a seat in one of the conjoined recliners. A faint moan nearly fell from her lips as she sank into the seat. The material was soft enough to be comfortable without feeling thin or cheap and despite that she hadn’t felt tired two minutes earlier, all she wanted to do was close her eyes and sleep. “Yeah,” she said, letting her eyes close for effect. “This is good.”
“You like it?” Dean asked as he claimed the other seat. “Ah, yeah, this is better than I thought it’d be.”
Arianna rolled her head to the side to grin at him. “You didn’t even sit in it before?”
“She was on a mission,” he defended with a laughing smirk.
“Well, yes, I like it,” she assured him. “But I fail to see why that matters.”
“That’s because you can’t see the big picture yet,” Dean said. “Obviously, if we both like it, I should buy it.”
“And put it where, exactly?” They could get rid of the couch, which she suspected was less than a year old, and it would give them a bit more floor space. But that didn’t really feel practical, so she refrained from suggesting it.
“In the living room, probably,” he replied.
“Dean,” she said, “you couldn’t fit half of this thing in the living room.” Which is a tragedy.
“Not that living room, Ari,” Dean returned teasingly. “Our new living room.”
Suddenly wide awake, Arianna straightened and adjusted to face him properly. “Our what?”
He met her gaze, and though he was still grinning, she could tell he was completely serious. “That’s the other opinion I wanted to ask for
,” he said. “I was thinking we should upgrade. Get out of that stuffy apartment and get a house.”
“A … house?” Arianna repeated, feeling like a moron. Had she missed something critical? When had they started talking about a house? Buying a house together seemed so … permanent. So domestic. So … promising.
“This house, specifically,” Dean continued, holding out his phone for her to see.
Disoriented, Arianna took the phone and looked down at the screen. It depicted a beautiful, two story house on the south side of town. The information at the bottom of the screen told her it was a two bedroom set on a decent chunk of land. New construction, too. It had only been on the market for a week. It was a gorgeous house, though the asking price made her want to gag.
“What do you think?” Dean asked, shifting and leaning closer, resting his elbow over one of the cup holders.
She swallowed, held the phone back out to him, and slowly replied, “The house is beautiful. But … I don’t think I have all the information. Why are you suddenly thinking of buying a house?”
Dean shrugged as he returned the phone to his pocket, saying, “It seemed like the right time.”
“How?” There had to be more to this. Something she was still missing.
He held her gaze for a second before declaring, “I have another confession. I sort of already bought this.” He was drumming his fingers along the hard plastic between them as he spoke, assuring her he meant the loveseat and not the house.
“You did? Then why are you asking my opinion?” Her gaze fell back to the loveseat for a long second before returning to his. She was sure her confusion was showing.
“’Cause I could still change my mind if you hated it,” he said with another shrug. He grinned, slid his fingers to a nearly invisible seam behind his arm, and asked, “Did you realize this opens? It’s a little furniture storage. Good for notepaper or something, I guess.”
Indulging her curiosity, if only because it was all she understood in the moment, Arianna complied with his prompt and focused in on the compartment in question as he lifted the lid. She really hadn’t noticed it. She did, however, immediately notice that there seemed to be something inside. “Dean,” she asked, leaning over and dipping her hand into the small compartment. “Did you know there’s something in—?”
Her words lodged in her throat when her hand returned with a small, soft box. A ring box.
Eyes snapping back to him, searching for his, she was startled to realize he wasn’t sitting next to her anymore. She turned a little more and a lump immediately formed in her throat, tears already stinging the backs of her eyes, at the sight of him kneeling before her. She opened her mouth to say something, but nothing would come out. Not a single sound.
Dean reached up, caught her wrist gently, and lifted the lid to the box without a word. She immediately looked back down to the box, her gaze landing on a breathtaking, sparkling diamond ring surrounded by tiny, crimson rubies.
“I know this might be crazy,” Dean began softly, tearing her attention back to his deep, serious gaze. “But I’m cold when you’re not next to me, and I can’t wrap my head around the idea of a future that doesn’t have you in it.” He paused, swallowed, and added, “Arianna Carosella, will you marry me?”
Her tears spilled over and she sucked in a shaky breath. She’d never been a happy crier. Not until this moment. But she figured this moment made it acceptable. “Yes,” she breathed, her hand clutching the box a little tighter. She felt a smile split her face and found herself in his arms, feet barely touching the ground, with her own arms around his shoulders and his lips dancing over hers. He dropped a series of light, sweet kisses on her lips and her toes curled a little in her shoes. This was right. This was perfect.
As he slipped the ring onto her finger, her heart warmed with satisfying recognition. She was finally home.
The End
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Other Books by Rose Wulf:
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BONUS SAMPLE CHAPTER
BURNING MIDNIGHT
Dark Light, 3
Rose Wulf
Copyright © 2019
Chapter One
“You’re supposed to be dead.”
The voice belonged to Gwendolyn’s mother, who’d been deceased for several years. It whispered like a coarse wind against her ear, causing Gwen to shudder and wrap her arms around herself. Wherever she was, she wanted to go home now. But instead, apparently, she was lost in some dark, misty forest in the dead of night. She could barely see and the leaves of the trees rustled eerily in all directions. How she got there she had no idea.
“Hello?” she called cautiously as she slowly moved forward.
Only the wind howled in response.
Gwen swallowed her nerves as best she could, telling herself to stay calm. She’d survived worse, after all. She’d survived a demonic curse designed to kill her on her thirtieth birthday, even. Not to mention being attacked and kidnapped by other demons along the way. Inexplicably lost in some clichéd, creepy old forest? She could totally do this.
“You’ve outlived your purpose.” This time the voice was her equally-deceased father’s. “Accept it.”
“Screw you!” Gwen cried to the trees and the invisible voices. “Screw both of you! Complete strangers fought harder for me than you did!”
“That’s right,” a new, female voice declared from somewhere behind Gwen, her voice like a dangerous purr in the air.
Gwen’s breath caught in her throat and she spun around, too fast, nearly tripping on her own feet. But all she could see was a distant outline. “Who’s there?”
“Me? Oh, I’m just a messenger,” the woman said.
Before Gwen could ask what she meant, the lingering mist in the forest swirled and shot at her as if the mysterious woman commanded it. Suddenly, Gwen couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, and a familiar terror gripped her heart as the woman’s voice filled her ears.
“He’s coming for you, Gwendolyn Manning.”
Gwen shot up with a scream, sweat coating her skin, her heart slamming against her ribcage. Seconds passed like molasses before she was able to calm her breathing enough to realize it had been a dream. A horrible, haunting nightmare of the worst kind. The kind born of reality. Wiping her hair from her face, Gwen tossed aside her blanket, and the airbed beneath her shifted as she put her feet on the floor. Solid. Cool. Reassuring. She stood, stretched a bit, and fumbled her way to the nearest functioning light switch. It didn’t exactly flood her entire new apartment with light, but it gave her enough to see the room by.
She’d taken possession of the apartment less than forty-eight hours earlier, so there were boxes in various states of unpacking everywhere. She’d shoved enough of them aside to blow up her airbed in the living room. Her furniture wasn’t scheduled to arrive for another three days, since she’d had to buy all new, and her goal had been to get all the boxed stuff as put away as possible by then. In the meantime, the airbed was literally her only place to sit, let alone sleep. Because she was proud and determined to embark on her new, unexpected future on her own terms, Gwen had refused to allow her well-meaning baby brother to help her unpack. Probably as a result of that, this was her first night truly alone in … she didn’t know how long.
Gwen moved to her small new kitchen and extracted a bottle of water from the fridge. Eight months. It’d been eight months, give or take a day, since her thirtieth birthday. The day she’d been cursed to die, thanks to her parents. Their voices from the nightmare whispered through her memory and she shivered. “Get a grip,” she told herself, capping the water after taking a long swallow. “It was just a dumb nightmare. They�
�re dead.” Cowards. Still, she returned to her airbed without turning off the single floor lamp in the corner. “You’re just freaked out because you haven’t been alone in a while,” she told herself. As if she were some needy grade schooler on her first sleepover.
In her defense, she’d been living with her younger brother, Ben, since surviving her birthday and finding herself in need of an actual home. For a while before that, she’d been under the direct protection of Belle and Kai. So it had been a while. And a good chunk of that time had also been spent being actively pursued by a demon—working, apparently, with an evil Archangel—who wanted her dead. Before her cursed day. For some inexplicable reason.
Gwen shook herself, forcing the memories aside. None of that insanity had continued past her birthday. Only her survival and friendship with Belle remained of that part of her life. Well, and her shakier friendship with her brother’s ex-girlfriend. Which he knew nothing about. He would so kill me. But those things all assured her life was looking up. She had made it through the worst. A stupid nightmare and a brief transition period of remembering how to adult weren’t going to take her down.
“He’s coming for you, Gwendolyn Manning.”
The ominous voice from her nightmare flashed through her just as the confidence settled in and Gwen grit her teeth. It was that bit, really, that had her shaking. She’d had haunting, angry dreams about her parents ever since their joint suicide. But this part was new. A dangerous voice with no face. A voice she didn’t recognize. Accompanied by a not-so-subtle threat. Who was ‘he’? Creed? No, he’s dead. The Archangel? She couldn’t possibly be so important to him. He certainly had bigger problems than one mortal woman.
“What if…?” Gwen drew a breath at the prospect that had dawned on her. There was an individual she’d wondered about for several years now. Someone whose name, even gender, she didn’t know. Someone who just might have cause to pursue her. The demon who’d stood to inherit her cursed soul eight months prior.