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Beneath This Mask

Page 22

by Meghan March


  I parked across the street from Harriet’s and turned to Charlie.

  “When I said I wasn’t letting you out of my sight, I wasn’t kidding. If this is where you want to stay tonight, you’d better be ready for some company.” I hoped she realized how serious I was. After more than six weeks apart with nothing but questions and unknowns between us, I wanted us on the same page when it came to our future. I knew what I wanted—Charlie in my bed every night, with my ring on her finger. My store of patience had run dry. After facing the possibility of losing her, I wasn’t going to rest until I’d locked down forever with this woman.

  She looked up from beneath her dark lashes and shot me a saucy smirk. “Since I wasn’t planning on letting you leave, that works for me.”

  I reached for my door handle, but Charlie was already out of the car and crossing the street. What the hell was her hurry?

  Impatience or anxiety or something else I couldn’t quite identify had been rolling off her since she’d asked me to bring her back to the apartment after dinner. As much as I’d wanted to tuck her into my bed, I hadn’t argued. Strangely enough, she’d suggested leaving Huck curled up at my mother’s feet. Something was up, but I had no idea what. With Charlie, it could be anything.

  When I climbed out of the car, she was already shoving her key into the ancient lock. “Excited to see Harriet?” I asked.

  She smiled and held open the gate. “You first.”

  “What’s going on here?”

  She bit her lip, unsuccessfully holding back a laugh. “Just roll with it, Simon.”

  I leaned down and brushed a kiss across her hair. “Only for you.”

  I walked through the narrow passageway into Charlie’s garden oasis and stopped dead. Dozens of fat, white pillar candles sat on the table, the edge of the fountain and koi pond, on the ledges of the brick walls, and around the splash pool. The yellow flames flickered in the evening breeze.

  I spun in a slow circle, taking it all in. A romantic gesture from Charlie. I liked where this was headed.

  “How did you manage to pull this off?” I asked, finishing my circle just as she tugged her black T-shirt over her head and dropped it on the ground. The best sort of déjà vu rushed through me.

  “Harriet. And she was kind enough to give us some privacy.” She reached behind her back and unclasped her bra. It dangled from her fingertips for a moment before it landed on her shirt. She was so goddamn beautiful she stole any other thoughts straight out of my head.

  I watched with pure male appreciation as she toed off her Chucks and reached for the zipper on her jeans. She shimmied them off as she said, “Last time I tried this, you told me to let you know when I was ready for more than a quick fuck.”

  She exposed the pale, white skin of her legs as she kicked her jeans and panties aside, and I fought to follow her line of conversation. “I remember saying something like that.”

  “This is me telling you, without a single reservation, that I want more. A whole hell of a lot more, Simon. I want it all. With you.”

  My heart hammered at her words and the sight of her before me. Naked in every way. No walls. No masks. No secrets. No lies. Just Charlie. My inked, pierced, beautiful Charlie.

  My already wide smile stretched further. “That’s convenient, because I wasn’t going to take no for an answer.”

  She tilted her head. “An answer to what?”

  I stuck my hand in my pocket and felt the ring that I’d been carrying around since yesterday morning. After my grand airport reunion plan had been derailed, I told myself I was going to wait. That I wasn’t going to do this tonight. That I was going to let her settle in for a few more days before I brought it up. But for some reason, I’d kept the ring in my pocket anyway. And I was glad as hell, because I couldn’t let this moment pass without asking.

  I dropped to one knee on the concrete in front of her, pulled the ring out, and held it up.

  She slapped a hand over her mouth. “Are you serious? Now? You’re doing this now? While I’m fucking naked? Seriously?”

  I grinned. Now was the perfect time. I reached for her left hand.

  “Charlotte Agoston, I love you. Every goddamn piece of you, including your past, because it made you who you are, and it brought you to me. I want to spend the rest of my life with you by my side. I want to stand up in front of God and everyone and make you mine. Will you marry me?”

  She squeezed her eyes shut. “Why do you never do what I think you’re going to?”

  I lifted her hand to my lips and kissed it. “That’s not the answer I was hoping for, baby.”

  “Jesus, Simon. You realize we can never tell this story to anyone. Because if you tell anyone we got engaged while I was naked...”

  I stood and drew her against me. “Is that a yes?”

  She reached up to wrap her arms around my neck. Just before she pressed her lips to mine, she whispered, “Of course, it’s a yes.”

  The kiss started sweet, but I couldn’t stop myself from taking over. I would never get enough of her. Never. When we finally separated, I remembered the ring, which I’d managed not to drop. I reached for her left hand again, and stared into her shimmering aqua eyes as I slid it onto her finger.

  She glanced down at it for a moment before twining her fingers in mine. The diamond flashed in the candlelight as Charlie led me toward the edge of the pool. Releasing my hand, she stepped down the stairs and sank into the water.

  With her hair floating around her on the surface, she looked like a pagan goddess. Thank God Derek got drunk enough to want Mandy’s name tattooed on his ass.

  “You coming in?” she asked.

  I tugged off my T-shirt and stripped off my shorts and boxer briefs in no time.

  “Wherever you are is where I want to be.”

  A soft smile stretched across her face, and I knew that if I could make her smile like that every day for the rest of my life, I’d be a damn lucky man.

  I descended into the pool and followed her as she floated backward. Trapping her against the concrete edge, I ducked my head to kiss her shoulder, her neck, and then her jaw. “So you say you’re ready for a whole hell of a lot more…”

  She threaded her fingers through my hair and met my eyes. “I’m ready for anything, as long as it’s with you.”

  “Not just anything, Charlie. Everything.”

  The early afternoon sunshine heated my skin; I closed my eyes and soaked it up. A crowd of people poured from the arched doorways of St. Louis Cathedral. Simon pressed a kiss to my shoulder.

  “You look incredible. And I’m the luckiest bastard on the planet.”

  My vintage Dior dress had cost me almost two months’ worth of pay from my very beloved job—Director of Finance of The Kingman Project. It was perhaps the most indulgent purchase I’d ever made, but seeing the look on Simon’s face as I walked down the rose petal strewn aisle on his father’s arm was worth every penny. The strapless, champagne-colored bodice faded into a thinly layered tulle skirt of the same color. It was encrusted with hundreds of scattered crystals that glittered like diamonds in the sun.

  My eyes devoured Simon. He was, as always, devastatingly handsome in a tux. “You don’t look so bad yourself.” I tilted my face up for a kiss. “Guess that makes me one lucky girl.”

  And I was lucky. My father might not have given me away, and my mother might not have looked on with tears in her eyes as her daughter married the man she loved, but today—everyday—I was surrounded by people who accepted me for who I was. They’d welcomed me without question when I’d had no past, and embraced me unconditionally even after my secrets had been revealed. They’d shown me what true family was supposed to be.

  Simon brushed his lips across mine before straightening as Con approached, Huck at his side. Handing off the leash to Simon, Con said, “Better treat her right, Duchesne. Or you’ll answer to me.” While his words carried a warning, the tone wasn’t harsh. Simon and Con had, after a few fits and starts, formed a solid
friendship of their own.

  The men shook hands. “You have my permission to kick my ass if I don’t.”

  Con released Simon’s hand and focused on me. Leaning down, he pressed a kiss to my cheek. “Happy looks good on you, Lee. Give ‘im hell.”

  “Thank you. For everything,” I whispered.

  Con nodded and slipped away to find his date.

  “He’s right; happy looks beautiful on you.” I turned toward the familiar voice to see Juanita dabbing at her eyes with a delicate handkerchief.

  I stepped away from Simon to wrap my arms around her.

  “Thank you for being here.”

  “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” She squeezed me tightly for a long moment before releasing me.

  “Don’t forget this, girly,” Yve said, holding out a feathered parasol. “It’s almost time.”

  I accepted it from her, along with a hug.

  “Thank you. Both of you.” The smile that stretched across my face was so wide it made my cheeks ache. It had been that way for days. Blinking back sentimental tears, I twirled the parasol, making the feathers bounce.

  Simon returned to my side and accepted hugs from both Yve and Juanita. Then he held out his free hand. “Are you ready, Mrs. Duchesne?”

  I laced my fingers through his and smiled up at him. “I am now.”

  The bandleader called off a beat, and the sound of jazz filled the air as the wedding party, followed by all of our guests, moved en masse toward the streets of the French Quarter.

  The End

  How do you feel about sexy, tatted-up bad boys? Con’s story is next! Beneath This Ink is coming this winter. Want special sneak peeks and insider info? Sign up for my newsletter: http://www.meghanmarch.com/#!newsletter/c1uhp

  I owe thanks to so many people who helped bring Beneath This Mask to life. To my husband, for listening to me babble about some crazy plot as I dragged him through the streets of the French Quarter and the Garden District, and then proceeded to ignore him for the next several months while I chained myself to my keyboard. To my family, for your unending support and patience. To my beta readers—Angela Smith, Serena Knautz, and Megan Simpson—thank you for your time, your thoughts, your friendship, and for loving Charlie and Simon as hard as I do. You ladies are amazing. This book wouldn’t be what it is without your input. To MCL, for helping with the technical twists. Any errors that remain are my own. To my editor, Madison Seidler—you answer my zillion questions and provide invaluable, no bullshit feedback. I’m so glad I found you! To Katie Spillner-Goodale for polishing it until it shone. To Sarah Hansen of Okay Creations for creating the gorgeous cover. To Jovana Shirley of Unforeseen Editing for the beautiful formatting. To Christine Estevez of Shh Moms Reading for arranging the promo, and all of the book bloggers who took a chance and gave it a read. And finally, my biggest thanks goes out to all of the readers who plunked down their hard-earned money to buy a story that grew out of a fleeting thought at 30,000 feet on a flight to New Orleans. I hope you enjoyed the ride, and I can’t thank you enough for joining me on it. Con’s story is next! Stay tuned for Beneath This Ink!

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