Good With His Hands
Page 20
I wheel around, clasp both her hands in mine. “Say the word, sweetheart, and I’ll make this ours. Max found the space last week. And I can buy it today for us. If you want me to come home.”
“Home,” she echoes, and it sounds damn beautiful falling from those gorgeous lips.
“I can’t stand being apart from you another day,” I say, pouring out the truth. “I can’t stomach the thought of going back to Los Angeles and leaving you behind, and I don’t want you to leave your business or your family. I’m ready to move back.” I lay it on the line as her eyes shine. “I miss you. I miss you so much it hurts. You’re all I think about. I just want to be with you for the rest of my life. With you in the same city, sharing the same bed, enjoying as many days and nights with you as I can get. Will you marry me?”
Her eyes float closed for a brief second, then she opens them, bringing her hand to her heart. “You’re asking me to marry you and you’re buying this space for us?”
I nod. “I didn’t want to do it without asking you first. Since we’re a team and all.”
“A team,” she echoes, her eyes glittering.
“But yeah . . .” I’m past ready to hear what she thinks, what she feels. Desperate to hear that “yes” I’ve been dreaming about. “I was hoping you’d dig the idea as much as I do. So what do you think? You like it?”
Her Epilogue
Ruby
* * *
Do I like the idea?
I love the idea.
I want nothing more than to be his wife, his partner, a lifelong member of his team.
I’m floating above Earth right now. I’m soaring through all the clouds in the sky. My heart is bursting with happiness and joy.
Right here in a Brooklyn garage, my wildest dream is coming true.
Because I’ve known for a long time. Since that night at the beach last summer, really.
Known in the marrow of my bones and deep in every cell that he’s it for me.
He’s the one for the rest of my days.
The fact that he arranged for a studio, that he’s leaving behind his magical, marvelous life in Los Angeles for me, is staggering.
It’s better than rainbow glitter. It’s all the stars in the sky.
He shakes his head with a laugh. “Shit, I almost forgot the most important part.” He gets down on one knee, reaches into his pocket, and takes out a velvet box.
My heart rises from my chest and wedges in my throat. I am overcome.
“Ruby, my favorite person, my one, please say you’ll marry me and be mine forever? And let me be yours?”
I answer him the only way I can. “Yes, yes, all the yes!”
I fall to my knees, throw my arms around him, and kiss my sexy boyfriend who, one day soon, is going to be my sexy, sweet, forever love. My husband.
I cover him in kisses.
I can’t stop kissing him.
I kiss him for minutes that feel like magic.
Then I break the kiss, clasp his face, and whisper, “I love you so much. I can’t believe you’re moving back to New York for us. I can’t believe you’ve got a garage. And a studio. It’s just . . . too perfect.”
He grins, crooked and sexy and so very him. “Believe it. And let me put this ring on your finger.”
Giddy, I hold out my hand. He slides on a gorgeous ring featuring a dark orange stone surrounded by glittering diamonds.
“It’s an orange garnet,” he says. “It reminded me of the colors we used when we painted the mural in the old schoolhouse. That, and your smile. Like sunshine.”
I fight back tears. “It’s so lovely.” And it is. It takes my breath away, because it’s so special, and it’s from him.
We kiss some more, then we kiss again, and then we make out in the doorway between our two fabulous new spaces for good measure.
Many minutes later, we finally stand, and he leads the way into the garage, where a manila folder is waiting on the counter. “Guess I can sign the deal then,” he says wryly, nodding toward the folder.
Eyes wide, I snag the pen from the counter beside the paperwork and shove it at him. “You better sign it right now and keep your sweet butt here in Brooklyn where you belong.”
“I belong with you, sweetheart,” he says, his arm around me. “Wherever you are.”
And I feel the same way about him. One hundred percent—not a single doubt in my mind.
Another Epilogue
Ruby
* * *
A few years later
* * *
I bring the fork to my mouth, moaning around the crumbles of strawberry and goat cheese. Now this is pie. Decadent and delicious and mine to relish without shame.
Sweetie Pies is closed for the night, which means no customers around to judge the taste-bud orgasm sounds slipping from between my lips.
“This is sinfully delicious.” I groan again and sink deeper in the plush cushion seat at one of the new booths Gigi ordered last spring. Beside me, Mom makes a similarly contented sound.
Ah, to be comfortable and eating dessert with dear ones at the same time. Is there anything better?
Another bite. Another moan.
Gigi arches a brow from the other side of the booth. “Sounds like you’re making love to that pie.”
I’m aghast that she’d say that with the woman who gave birth to me at the table. “Don’t say that in front of . . .” I stage whisper, “. . . my mother.”
Mom huffs and rolls her eyes. “I figured it was sex that got you into your present situation, sweetheart,” my mom says, shooting a pointed look at my ginormous stomach.
Yes. Ginormous. Honestly, I could barely squeeze into the booth.
It’s the size of a yacht, and this yacht is about to dock in the harbor any day. But in the meantime, there are pies to eat.
I’m pretty sure everything has zero calories when you’re forty weeks, six days, five hours, and twenty-three minutes pregnant. I’ve narrowed down the conception date and I know this kid is overcooked, no matter what my doctor has to say about “letting labor come in its own time.”
“This child clearly intends to stay inside me forever,” I say. “So there’s only one thing to do . . .”
Gigi laughs. “Eat pie?”
“What can I say? I like pie. It tastes good. Takes a girl’s mind off tiny feet kicking her in the spleen. Also, you made this amazing, irresistible strawberry and goat cheese creation, so this sugar rush is at least seventy-five percent your fault,” I say, taking another bite and adjusting myself in the seat.
Because I’m not comfortable.
I haven’t been comfortable in months.
How could anyone in my position be comfortable right now?
I’m ready though. Ready to meet our baby. Ready to take this next step with Jesse.
The last few years have been so magical and wonderful. My business has flourished and so has his, but more than that, our life together has been everything I imagined it would be, and then some—filled with love and intimacy and laughter and honest conversations.
We’ve taken road trips. We’ve tried new restaurants. We’ve gone swimming in the ocean. We’ve camped out at the Four Seasons. Literally. For our first wedding anniversary, Jesse surprised me with a gorgeous suite and a tent set up on our balcony overlooking the city. We made out in the tent and slept in the super-fancy bed and didn’t put clothes on for two days straight.
It was perfect.
We do perfect things all the time. Perfect, unexpected things, and mini adventures every time we have the chance. Whether it’s trying paddle-board yoga for the first time in Hawaii on our honeymoon, or going to a showing of The Cat Who Ate Cincinnati and adopting our own two smoky-gray kittens—Mushroom and Magic—at the animal shelter event after the movie, we seize the day.
We embrace the new and the unexpected.
It’s the opposite of how I felt for the years right after we lost Claire. This is a life well lived.
My back seizes up for th
e second time in ten minutes. “Oof. Ow. Wow,” I say with a groan. “That’s not a good feeling.”
My mother straightens. Gigi’s antenna goes up. And they both say in tandem, “Is this it?”
“God, I hope so.” I smile through the pain knifing through my lower back. “Call Jesse. Tell him to bring my hospital bag.”
“On it,” Gigi says, bolting from the booth.
Turns out this is it.
Gigi calls Jesse at the garage, and I swear within minutes he’s at the door of the pie shop, harried but excited, loading me into his car and driving like an action hero to take us to the hospital.
Sixteen hours later, our baby girl is born.
And we name her Claire.
* * *
THE END
* * *
Curious who Gigi met at the party? The Henry Cavill lookalike who can solve a Rubix Cube in thirty seconds? Find out if her mystery man is perfect for her or her perfect nemesis in GOOD TO BE BAD. Warning: he’s devilishly sexy and deliciously dirty, and his accent makes her lose her panties when he’s near! Preorder GOOD TO BE BAD everywhere!
* * *
You’ll also likely enjoy our sinfully sexy standalone romantic comedy THE V CARD! A lessons in seduction for the virgin storyline that’s hot, sweet and sexy!
* * *
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THE KNOCKED UP PLAN, a multi-week USA Today and Amazon Charts Bestselling standalone romance!
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MOST VALUABLE PLAYBOY, a sexy multi-week USA Today Bestselling sports romance! And its companion sports romance, MOST LIKELY TO SCORE!
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Also by Lili Valente
Hot Royal Romance
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Virgin Seeks Bad Boy
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The Hunter Brothers
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Under His Command Series
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Controlling her Pleasure
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Claiming her Heart
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To the Bone Series
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A Love so Dangerous
A Love so Deadly
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The Rebel Hearts Series
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Savage Hearts
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Co-written Standalones
The V Card (co-written with Lauren Blakely)
Good With His Hands (co-written with Lauren Blakely)
Falling for the Boss (co-written with Sylvia Pierce)
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The Happy Cat Series
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Hosed
Hammered
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Humbugged
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You can find Lauren on Twitter at LaurenBlakely3, Instagram at LaurenBlakelyBooks, Facebook at LaurenBlakelyBooks, or online at LaurenBlakely.com. You can also email Lauren at laurenblakelybooks@gmail.com
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