by Marie Force
I can’t wait to give it to her and see her eyes light up with joy. Anticipating that reaction makes my heartbeat quicken and my body tingle with love and desire and excitement for what’s ahead for us.
When I get back to Marfa, I’ll let Jerry know that as dazzled as I am by his company—and him—I have to pass on his generous offer. My life—and Lauren’s—is in Marfa, and that’s where we’ll be staying after we’re married. It was nice to be wanted, to be courted, to recall a time in my life when anything was possible. But I’ve moved on. I have a thriving business with clients who need me and employees who depend upon me. While I was busy feeling trapped in Marfa, I was also building a life there that has become a thousand times more satisfying now that Lauren and I are an official couple.
I can picture our life there in a way that I couldn’t even two weeks ago. Having her by my side and in my bed has silenced the disquiet I’ve lived with since I was forced to come home to take over my father’s business. The bitterness is gone. The resentment is gone. The craving need for something else, something better, is gone. I’m finally content, and it’s all because of her.
The driver drops me off at the main entrance to the hotel and tells me he’ll be back to collect us for dinner at six forty-five.
“I’ll see you then,” I say as I head into the lobby, checking my watch to see that we have two hours until our pickup. That ought to be just enough time for what I have in mind. I can’t wait to hear what she thought of the spa and whether she got to the pool. On the way home to Marfa tomorrow, I’ll tell her the truth about why we came here and what I’ve discovered as a result. I’ll have to frame it in such a way that she understands I was merely testing the waters, not actually planning to leave Marfa.
I’ll tell her everything about how I really felt about inheriting the family business and having to put my own ambitions on hold for all this time. I’m sure she’ll understand my need for closure, or at least I hope she will. Underneath my determination to be truthful with her is a gnawing fear that hearing I’d gone so far as to engage a headhunter and attend an interview in Austin without telling her about it will hurt her. Hopefully, it’ll make a difference when I tell her I’ve never spoken about any of this with anyone. For some reason, I’m oddly fearful of sharing this information with her, but I shake off those unsettling thoughts to focus on happier things like giving her the ring I chose for her.
I enter the suite and immediately remove my tie and suit coat, laying them both over a chair in the salon before going into the bedroom, where Lauren is curled into a little ball in the middle of the big bed, fast asleep. I take a minute to just drink her in while recalling my description of her as tough on the outside but soft on the inside.
She’s wearing one of the thick white robes provided by the hotel, and I notice her toenails have been painted bright red at some point during the hours we spent apart. I debate whether I should let her sleep or let her know I’m back. I decide on a compromise, and after placing the ring box on the bedside table, I unbutton my shirt, pull it off and then remove my shoes, socks and suit pants. I crawl in next to her, wrapping my arm around her waist and breathing in a delicious new scent that I assume is from the spa. It’s oaky and earthy with overtones of eucalyptus maybe. Whatever it is, my cock most definitely approves.
Because I can’t help myself, I carefully untie the belt that’s cinched around her waist and dip my hand inside to lie flat against the warm, silky skin on her belly. Of course that’s not nearly enough, so I smooth my hand up until I encounter soft, pliable breast. She comes to when I run my thumb over the hardened tip of her nipple.
“I really hope you’re Garrett, or I’m in big trouble,” she says in a husky, sexy voice that goes straight to my already-hard cock.
“Who else would it be?”
“There was this really sexy bellman who caught my eye earlier.”
I pinch her nipple hard enough to get her attention without causing actual pain.
She giggles, and I smile at the sound of her laughter.
“How was your day, dear?” I ask.
“Delightful. Yours?”
“It was good, but it just got a whole lot better. You smell amazing, and your skin is like silk.”
“I was very thoroughly pampered.”
“That’s great, sweetheart. You deserve it.”
“I don’t know about that, but I sure did love it. Thanks for inviting me.”
“Thanks for coming with me. It wouldn’t have been any fun without you.”
“What time is dinner?”
“Our pickup is in two hours. I set the alarm on my phone for thirty minutes before so we don’t have to watch the clock.”
“What do you feel like doing until then? You want to go to the pool or take a nap or what?”
She’s given me the perfect opening for what I want to do.
“Stay right there for a minute.” I remove my hand from inside her robe and retrieve the ring box from the bedside table. “Turn over.”
She gathers the two sides of the robe in her hand as she turns toward me. Her face is adorably flushed from sleep, and I have to kiss her, just once. Once becomes twice when her hand lands on my face, disarming me with her sweetness.
“Hi there,” she says with a sexy smile.
“Hi.” I kiss her again. “Missed you today.”
“Mmm, me, too, but I was kept very well occupied while you were gone.”
I narrow my brows. “Tell me your masseuse wasn’t a guy.”
“Um, well, I hate to tell lies…”
What does it say about how far gone I am over her that the thought of another man’s hands on her, even in a professional capacity, infuriates me?
“So I can’t tell you that my masseuse was a guy because he was a she.”
I breathe a sigh of relief. “It’s a good thing. I’d hate to have to hunt him down and kick his ass for daring to put his hands on my woman.”
“Down, boy. It’s all good.”
“Is it? Are you happy, Lo?”
“How can you ask me that?” She strokes my face tenderly, her fingertips sliding over my skin. “I’m so happy. All day today, I just kept thinking about last night and the things we talked about, the plans we made. I can’t believe this is happening.”
“Believe it. It’s happening, and so is this.” I open my hand to reveal the black velvet box.
Her eyes widen and then fill with tears. “Garrett…”
“Open it.”
She looks up at me, almost as if she’s making sure I’m for real and then takes the box, her hand trembling ever so slightly. “I need to sit up for this.” As she does, the robe falls open, revealing the deep valley between her breasts. I don’t allow myself to be sidetracked. I keep my attention on her face, which lights up with pleasure at the sight of the ring I’ve chosen for her.
Tears flood her eyes and spill down her cheeks as she stares at it.
“You like it?”
She laughs and uses the sleeve of the robe to mop up her tears. “Of course I do. It’s incredible.”
I rise to my knees, take the box from her and raise my hand to her face. “Lauren Davies, love of my life since the sixth grade, will you do me the enormous honor of being my wife?”
“Yes,” she says through more tears. She throws herself at me, but I’m ready for her, catching her and holding her tight against me.
“Are you sure?” I ask teasingly.
“I’m very, very sure. Are you?”
Gazing down at her lovely tearstained face, I’ve never been more sure of anything in my entire life. “Yeah, baby. I’m sure.” I kiss her while working the ring free of the box behind her back. I break the kiss but only so I can slide the ring onto her left hand. I guessed at the size, and I’m relieved to see that I got it right. It’s a perfect fit.
“It’s so beautiful,” she whispers.
“I’m glad you like it.”
“I love it, but are you sure it’s not too much?
I don’t need—”
I kiss the words right off her lips. “It’s the ring I want you to have, but only if you’re happy with it.”
“I’m happy. I’m very happy.”
“Then I am, too.” I lie back down and invite her to join me, watching as she shimmies out of the robe and tosses it aside. As I put my arm around her, I say, “Wait until everyone at home hears our news.”
“I don’t think they’ll be that surprised.”
“No?”
She shakes her head and looks up at me. “According to Honey, they’ve been waiting for us to figure out that we’re meant to be.”
“Seriously?” I ask, astounded.
“Uh-huh. Apparently, we finish each other’s sentences, always sit together in a group and laugh at the same things. You hold doors for me and generally dote on me.”
“I do?”
“You do, and I’m not the only one who’s noticed.”
“Do you think it’s weird that it took us so long to get to where we are now?”
“No, I think it was our journey, and it unfolded the way it was meant to. I wouldn’t have been ready for this before now, and I suspect you wouldn’t have been either.”
“Probably not,” I concede, turning so I’m on top of her, gazing down at her lovely face. “But I’m ready now.”
“I can tell,” she says with a saucy grin as she pushes her pelvis against my hard cock.
“Seriously, Lo. I’m ready for you, for us, for this. I love you so much. I always have, but now…”
“Now it’s so much more,” she says, finishing my sentence for me.
Nodding, I hold our eye contact as I kiss her, softly at first and then with greater desperation as the desire I’m learning to expect when we’re together this way kicks in and takes over. It’s so natural and easy with her. We move like we’ve been doing this for years rather than days.
I watch her face as I slide into her, moving slowly to draw out the anticipation for both of us. Her expression is so raw and unguarded and filled with love that’s all for me. Her love has humbled me, made me want to be a better man so I’ll always be worthy of the tremendous gift she’s given me.
This, I realize in the midst of utter magic, is what it means to make love. I had no idea until I did this with her that there could be such a difference. I grasp her hands and prop them over her head, linking our fingers and then our lips as we ride the wave to a sharp peak and then glide back down together in a moment of the purest perfection I’ve ever experienced.
Her eyes are glossy with tears, her lips swollen from our kisses, and I’m completely lost to her in every possible way. Still joined with her, I move to my side and bring her with me, keeping her snug against me as our bodies cool and quake with aftershocks.
I should talk to her about what happened today, but I’m afraid to step outside the bubble of happy contentment that surrounds us. I want to preserve the perfection for as long as I can. There’ll be time enough to talk it through tomorrow during the ride home.
Chapter Thirteen
Garrett’s alarm wakes us thirty minutes before we’re due to be picked up. Part of me wishes we didn’t have to leave our bed or our room to be sociable, but he’s here to meet with potential clients, and they were good enough to put us up at the Four Seasons for the weekend. After my amazing day at the spa, the least I can do is spend a few hours with them supporting his business.
I drag myself from his embrace and out of bed to put myself together.
He staggers into the bathroom a few minutes later, looking rumpled and sexy and sleepy. I can’t take my eyes off the exceptional naked body of the man who will be my husband. My first and only love… At long last, we finally got the timing right.
He goes into the toilet room to take a leak that I can hear through the closed door. It’s so intimate and exciting to be with him this way, to see him disheveled, to share a living space, even if it’s a hotel room.
I hold out my hand to study the exquisitely beautiful engagement ring he gave me. He took me completely by surprise when he returned with the ring and officially asked me to marry him. If he had any idea how long I’ve waited to hear those words from him, he’d probably run away out of fear of a woman who was so crazy about him that, other than the very brief fling with Blake, she hasn’t been with anyone else since she split with her husband years ago.
All those long years of waiting and hoping that Garrett McKinley might one day look at me as more than just a buddy. And then the first time he did, it was such an unmitigated disaster that I nearly gave up on us being anything more to each other than the best of friends.
His hands land on my hips, his chin on my shoulder. “You still like the ring in the bright light?”
“I love it in every light. I still can’t believe we’re actually engaged!”
He hugs me tighter against him. “Believe it.”
“I might need to call Honey tonight rather than waiting until we get home to tell her.”
“Whatever you want, sweetheart.”
“I’m torn between wanting to tell her now and wanting to be there when she sees a ring on my finger.”
“It would be fun to surprise them.”
“Yes, it would. That’s what we’ll do. Somehow I’ll find a way to contain myself until we get home.”
“Share your excitement with me.”
“I can do that.” I catch his eye in the mirror. “Do you think your mom will be happy for us?”
“She’ll be thrilled.”
“I hope so. She’s the only parent we have, the only grandparent our kids will have.”
“She’ll be a fantastic grandmother—and mother-in-law. You know how much she’s always loved you.”
“She’s one of several people who saved me back in the day—her and Honey’s Gran and a couple of teachers who actually gave a shit about me.” I rub at the faded white scar on my left wrist that serves as a reminder of another of the dark times in my life, after I fended off the advances of one of my drunken, drugged-up mother’s many “boyfriends,” and then slashed my wrists in a desperate attempt to get someone to notice how neglected I was. It worked. After I ended up in the hospital, the state intervened to get me out of her home and helped me become an emancipated minor at the age of sixteen.
I stayed for a time with Honey and her Gran, the older woman who adopted her as an infant, before giving my mother another chance after she supposedly “got sober and found religion.” That turned out to be a huge mistake. I married Wayne to finally get away from her, trading one awful situation for another. When I was twenty-four, my mother died in prison, a convicted drug dealer. I hadn’t seen her in more than a year by then, but was still profoundly affected by her death.
“Don’t think about the bad stuff, Lo,” Garrett says, tugging my left arm free and encircling my wrist with his big hand. “It’s all over now. Let’s look ahead rather than back.”
Nodding, I force a smile for his benefit. This is certainly not the time for that trip down memory lane. “I’ll be ready in ten minutes.”
“Sounds good.” He kisses the back of my shoulder and leaves me to finish getting ready.
I want to look nice for him tonight so he’ll be proud to introduce me to his clients, so I take special care with my hair, straightening the crazy curls and applying a little more makeup than I normally wear. I don a black cocktail dress and the super-high heels that Garrett likes so much. When I’m ready, I leave the bathroom and find him standing in front of the big windows in the salon, hands in his pockets as he gazes out at the view of Lady Bird Lake.
He’s wearing a pinstripe dress shirt with black pants that mold to his perfect ass. I go to him and cover that tight ass with my hands, giving him a little squeeze that makes him jolt.
He smiles at me over his shoulder and then does a double take. “Wow, you look fantastic.” Turning, he takes a closer look. “You look so different with your hair straight.” He lets a strand slide through his finger
s, seeming fascinated.
“Do you not like it?”
“I love it. You look sexy and grown up and engaged.”
“I didn’t know it was possible to look engaged.”
“You do. You look very, very engaged, which is a good thing. I want everyone to know you belong to me.”
I bring him in for a quick kiss. “You’re very sweet.”
“Let’s go get this dinner over with so we can continue to properly celebrate our engagement.” He takes me by the hand and grabs his suit coat on the way out of the suite.
The driver is waiting for us, and Garrett holds the door for me and then follows me into the back of the Cadillac for the ride to the Austin Country Club.
“Guests of Jerry Dutton,” the driver tells the guard at the security station. We’re waved in and given a VIP greeting by club staff. My first thought at watching them spring into action is that whoever Jerry Dutton is, he must have sway at this place.
We’re shown to a table in the middle of an elegant dining room. A handsome man in his mid-fifties stands to greet Garrett with a big welcoming smile and a handshake.
“This is my fiancée, Lauren,” Garrett says, and I have to make an effort not to swoon as I’m introduced as his fiancée for the first time.
“Such a pleasure to meet you,” Jerry says. “This is my wife, Monica.”
I shake hands with the stunning dark-haired woman with the perfect skin, teeth and manicure. She reminds me, oddly, of George Clooney’s gorgeous wife, and next to her, I feel like a country bumpkin. I’m really glad I took the time to straighten my hair.
Garrett helps me into my chair and then takes the seat next to me, resting his hand on my thigh as if he knows I need the reassurance. I’ve got this, or so I tell myself. I’m determined not to do anything to embarrass him in front of these people. I have no idea what sort of work he’s hoping to gain from Jerry Dutton, but whatever it is, it was important enough to drive six and a half hours to meet with him.