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)
There is no mistaking the widening of her eyes, her mouth agape as she stares at the fine piece. “Jesse.” She’s breathless, her troubled eyes coming back to mine. “That necklace was sixty grand.”
So she looked closely enough to see the price tag? I circle around the back of her, moving her hair and draping the necklace down her front. The moment the precious stone meets her skin, she breathes in deeply. But she doesn’t stop me from putting it on her. I secure the clasp and slip my hands onto her shoulders, kissing her neck beneath the layered chains of the necklace. “You like?”
“You know I do, but . . .” She fades off. “Did Zoe tell you?” she asks, her hand hovering in front of her, her chin dropped, looking at it. Or watching it. Scared of it.
“No,” I say, helping her round to face me. I look down at the beauty on my beauty, touching it. “I asked Zoe to show it to you.” My finger slides from the hard stone onto her soft skin. “You are crazy beautiful.” I kiss her, feeling her smile beneath my lips.
“Are you talking to me or the diamond?” She laughs, and it’s nervous. I don’t want her to be nervous about it. I want her to own it because she carries it wonderfully, and with this dress?
“It’s all about you. As it always will be.”
“Jesse”—she peeks down again—“what if I lose it, what if—”
“Ava, shut up,” I warn softly, brushing her hair back. “It’s insured and it’s a gift from me. If you don’t wear it, I’ll be crazy mad. Understand?”
She hesitates, looking unsure, but she softens, accepting, reaching for my chest and moving in, looking up at me. There it is again. Acceptance. I think it’s my most favorite look on Ava. I know it’s only a necklace, but she accepted it. Because I want her to. This moment feels somehow . . . significant.
“I really don’t know what to say.”
“You could say you love it,” I say. “You could say thank you.” You could say you’ll marry me. Have babies with me. Give me everything I never dared dreamed I could be blessed with.
“I do love it.” She smiles. “Thank you.”
“You are more than welcome, baby.” I accept her kiss. “It’s not as beautiful as you, though. Nothing is.” Now, we really have to go before John kicks my arse and Sarah has a breakdown. “My work here is done.” Not quite, but for now. “Come on, you’ve made your god late.” I collect Ava and my keys, and turn off the music, opening the door for her and pulling her into the foyer, unable to stop myself from looking at her constantly, smiling, happy. Again, not because of how incredible she looks, but because she’s here. With me. On my arm.
We’re a couple.
I feel her watching me too, and I wonder what she’s thinking. It’s one of the first times in our relationship that I haven’t been worried about that. Her eyes sparkling as hard as that diamond around her neck, she rubs at my bottom lip with her thumb. “You’re crazy handsome,” she says softly, concentrating on her task of cleaning me up. “And all mine.”
Something is happening here, and I don’t know what. I already knew she loved me. But now, here, it’s different. I know The Manor is the last place she wants to be. I know she hasn’t been looking forward to this evening. But she’s doing it. For me. That’s love. Not just adoring but compromising. Maybe the truths I spoke last night have eased her. Reassured her. Even though we barely scraped the barrel of other things I need to render. “Just yours, baby.” I kiss her fingers, holding her hand tightly and getting us off the elevator when the doors open. I pull her into my side as we pass Clive, the old boy smiling as we go.
One day, I tell myself, I will share my story with Ava. I could do it now, tell her about Jake and Rosie, smile my way through some of the memories. Problem is, there’s no happy ever after for those stories. And I can’t tell her the beginning and not the end. But I don’t see my family. Don’t talk about my family. Don’t talk about anything pre-Ava, really. It’s only a matter of time before that fact starts spiking questions too.
33
John looks fucking furious when I pull up, but he somehow manages to find it in himself to give Ava the cheesiest smile I’ve ever seen grace his serious face. I laugh to myself. That smile wasn’t for Ava, it was for me. A message that I’m the soul focus of his bad mood.
I give him a playful—very real—snarl as I chuck him my keys, and he gives me a look to suggest I’m a dead man. But who’s going to kill me? Sarah or John?