Total pages in book: 235
Estimated words: 224334 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1122(@200wpm)___ 897(@250wpm)___ 748(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 224334 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1122(@200wpm)___ 897(@250wpm)___ 748(@300wpm)
“She and Dan have a bit of a history.” Ava looks at her brother. “It’s complicated.”
Oh? A history as in, a history? And is it really history, because the vibe around the table tells me not? “I see.” I look at Sam. Has he sensed it? I need to dig on that. Ava’s brother does not need to be giving me another reason to dislike him. “Did you enjoy your pasta?”
Her joy is infectious. Her plate is empty. An appetite? She’s definitely eating more. “It was lovely. Thank you.”
“You are more than welcome.” I take her hand that’s on my knee and squeeze. “Nothing stands in the way now, does it?” No scorned exes, no scorned fucks, no parents or brothers, or too-familiar clients.
“No,” she agrees, looking as light as I feel. “The path is clear.”
Good. Let’s get this over with. “I’m glad you said that.” I stand and get a startled Ava up. “Excuse us for a few minutes.”
“Where are we going?” she asks as I lead her away from the silent table.
I smile at thin air before me, taking one last deep breath before I stop, turn, and drop to my knee. Her face. God, I wish I could take a picture of it and add it to my bespoke wallpaper. “Shall we try this the traditional way?”
“Oh God.” She looks over her shoulder. Yes, baby, they’re all looking at you. I can feel her fear through our joined hands. Her nerves. Her worry. I’m quick to ease it.
“I’ve trampled them all,” I say when she’s back facing me, to check I’m really on my knee. “Delicately . . . ish.” Very fucking delicately. I don’t want to even consider where we’d be if her parents had hated me and insisted Ava walk away. I shudder at the thought. “I’ve even asked your father,” I add, knowing that’s the biggest hurdle for her. She jerks on a sob. A happy sob. “You must know how hard that was for me.” I gaze up at her, her hair cascading over her shoulders, creating a kind of veil. A barrier. A private space for us in this moment. I take my other knee to the floor and hold the backs of her thighs, applying a little pressure, telling her I want her closer. She obliges, feeling through my hair. “Anything it takes, Ava.” I want a picture of this expression too. It’s the best kind of acceptance. “Marry me, baby,” I whisper, and she shakes her head mildly. It’s not a refusal, I know that. It’s awe.
“You’re crazy mad.” She chokes, her emotions falling past her lips and creeping into her eyes as she dips and places her lips on mine. “You crazy, crazy man.”
“Will I be crazy mad and married? Please tell me I’ll be crazy mad and married to you.” She’s not said yes. I want a firm yes. So I pull her to the floor, and she blinks back her tears. “It’s all about you and it always will be. For the rest of my life, it’s only you,” I promise her. “I love you, beyond crazy. Marry me, Ava.”
She collapses into my arms, the moment overwhelming her. She’s not alone. My damn throat has closed up on me, and my eyes are burning. “Is that a yes?”
“Yes.” She sobs over her answer, laughs a little too, and I tumble back to the decking, taking her with me. “I can’t breathe.” I kiss her like we always kiss, with passion and power, and I could not give a flying fuck who judges. “I love you so much.” I find her ring in my pocket and slip it on, while Ava remains hiding in my neck.
“I love you too.”
“I’m so glad.” I give her one last gift. “You’re the best birthday present I’ve ever had.”
She’s never moved so fucking fast. She’s out of my neck in a heartbeat, looking at me with a mixture of delight and surprise. “It’s your birthday?”
The first one in many years that I’ve acknowledged. “It is.”
“Today?”
“Yes.” So now she will ask how old I am, and I will tell her the truth.
“How old are you?” she says, her lips stretching, the corners quirking. It’s the best sight, because she fucking knows, and she doesn’t give a shit.
“I’m thirty-eight.” Thirty-fucking-eight.
“Happy birthday,” she says, so thrilled, her beam so precious.
My grin hurts my face, and my eyes finally release the building tears of true fucking happiness.
“Don’t mind us.” Sam’s voice penetrates our moment, and Ava starts laughing in my neck. I brush her hair out of my face and drop my head to the side, where our table full of guests all look on.
“I forgot we had company,” I say, getting to my feet, pulling Ava up and helping her straighten her dress out. She looks at me, and I just catch a flush of embarrassment creeping into her cheeks as her mother ambushes her from the side, throwing her arms around her. Ah, fuck. Ava’s shoulders shoot up, and she doesn’t conceal her hiss very well. Not that Elizabeth notices. I take my life into my own hands and muscle my way between them.