Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 75457 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75457 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
“You bought that ring?” I ask with my bottom lip trembling. “You bought it back then?”
“I asked Denia to borrow me the money,” he confesses. “I had to work my ass off for the rest of the summer to pay back the debt, but it was worth it.”
I stare into his eyes. “You worked at the candy store that summer, so you could buy the ring?”
“I did.” He smiles. “I held onto it.”
“Until you asked me to marry you?”
He nods. “It was in my pocket that day.”
I let out a sob. It’s a cry from deep within. It’s a harsh and verbal release of the pain that has been inside of me for years. That pain has now been replaced with hope and excitement for a future with the man in front of me.
“I promise to love you every moment of every day forever,” he says with a tremor in his voice. “Will you marry me, Sinclair? Will you share your life with me?”
“Yes!” I cry out. “I’ll marry you!”
Applause from the people gathered around us drowns out the final rumble of thunder as Jameson slips the ring on my finger that was always meant to be there.
EPILOGUE
Sinclair
Three Months Later
I stare at the painting that was installed above the fireplace this afternoon. Jameson arranged to have it brought here from the storage facility in Queens. It’s one of the most breathtaking pieces of art I’ve ever seen. When I turn to glance toward the wall next to the window, I smile when I spot the painting that Denia wanted my fiancé to inherit. It’s an abstract piece that was one of the first that Brighton ever did.
When Jameson first saw it years ago, he didn’t understand the value or significance of it, but when we found it stored in the closet of Denia’s bedroom, we both realized what a true treasure it was.
“Beck and his wife will need to come for dinner to have a look at our mini-exhibition of his work,” Jameson says from behind me.
I spin around to see him on the approach.
The shirt he wore when we went to dinner at Berk and Astrid’s is now gone. I’m not complaining. I’ll never get enough of staring at him like this.
“You like what you see.” He winks. “Feel free to climb on up and enjoy it all.”
I smile. “Soon.”
“Soon, as in, I should lose my jeans now?” His hands drop to the waistband of his jeans.
“Not that soon.”
“Damn.” He cocks a brow. “You’re thinking about something. What is it?”
I glance back at the painting.
“Is it the book launch party?” Jameson steps closer to me. “When we toured Beck’s studio, everything was set. Tomorrow is a day of celebration for you. You’re going to bask in the limelight of being the co-author of one of the greatest coffee table books of our time.”
“You should work in public relations.”
He laughs. “I’m killing it as COO, so that’s a hard pass. I’m close to securing another deal. It’s the last on Denia’s list. I met with the head of that company last week when I was in Santa Fe clearing out my condo. He’s finally ready to sell.”
I cup his face in my hands. “She would be so proud of you.”
“I know.” He nods briskly. “I feel that. I’m doing good work, and I’m loving it, Sin.”
“Me too,” I whisper.
“I noticed you and Berk snuck away for a few minutes during dessert.” He stares into my eyes. “Was it about the wedding?”
We’re just a week away from that, but the conversation I had with my brother had nothing to do with his upcoming nuptials, so I shake my head.
I had debated approaching Berk about the project featuring Denia and Carrick, but he knew something was up when I turned down a lucrative contract to ghostwrite the memoir of a woman who lives in Italy.
It would have meant time away from Jameson, but I know we could have made that work. We’ve talked about that and decided that when I travel again for research and interviews, he’ll tag along when he can to scope out future locations for Carden.
Holden is completely on board with that too.
We’ve both been encouraging him to date again, but he’s not ready for that step yet. Right now, it’s all business, all the time for Jameson’s brother.
“Did you tell Berk about Sweet Love?” Jameson presses when I don’t say anything.
“I told him about it tonight,” I confess. “He’s been worried that I was going to bail on him to work with another publisher, so I told him about the book.”
Jameson’s brow furrows. “What did he say?”
I had been hesitant to approach Berk about the project until I had a solid proposal in hand. I’ve been working on that between interviewing more people who knew Jameson’s grandparents. It’s vitally important to me that I write a book that captures the essence of their love.