“Well, for one . . .” Gretchen looked up. “She doesn’t ride a broom.”
Brian’s answering laugh was so loud, it seemed to echo around the beach. He fell back on the sand. “Gretchen.” He groaned, covering his face with his arm. “Quit busting my balls, would you?”
I looked from Brian to a grinning David. Florida looked good on him. I took a mental picture of his profile, wanting to remember this carefree, in-his-element David forever.
Because deep down, I knew.
It couldn’t last.
As long as we hadn’t discussed the one thing that could still break us, stormy waters lay ahead.
26
Iawoke completely tangled in David, my hands in his hair, and my arms around his neck while his circled my waist. Our legs entwined like vines attempting to merge. A gray hue darkened the room, and rain lightly drummed the roof. David sighed and pulled me closer. With messy, jet-black hair against a stark white pillow, he looked peaceful but still severe, even in repose. I bit my lip to keep from waking him with a kiss.
I closed my eyes again. It’d been another perfect weekend. After our surf session, David and I had made love in the shower, then napped until dinnertime. Brian and Gretchen had prepared seafood pasta while Brian’s girlfriend had watched. By the time we’d gone to bed, only Gretchen and Brian had remained awake.
I was high on everything—David, the change in scenery, the possibility of Gretchen and Brian—but still, I managed to give in to a second round of sleep.
We were still interwoven when I woke again, except I was practically on top of David as he lay on his back. I lifted my head to find him watching me. “We slept late,” he said softly.
I nodded and resettled my head against his chest, not ready to separate. Thethudof heavy raindrops comforted me, and David plus the sheets warmed my skin. I closed my eyes as he stroked my hair.
Suddenly, he flipped me onto my back. “You’re going back to sleep?” he cried. “It’s almost noon.”
I giggled as his face hovered above mine. “I had a stressful week.”
“Were you dealing with unruly workers and asshole engineers like I was? I didn’t think so.”
“I’m sorry, baby, but I have you beat,” I informed him. “I was stuck in a debilitating state of sexual arousal fordays. I could barely function.”
“Yeah, right,” he said, shifting and pulling me closer.
“Really,” I said. “It was exhausting.”
“Well, whoever left you that way should be tried and charged with stupidity of the highest degree.”
I laughed and pushed his shoulder, but he caught my wrist. His smile fell as his expression sobered, his eyes intense as they darted over my face. “Marry me.”
I sucked in a sharp breath at the completely out-of-the-blue question.Statement, rather. Apparently, he didn’t even need to ask. “What?” I asked.
He blinked, and his eyes continued to scan my face. “Marry me, Olivia,” he said just above a whisper.
My heat skipped with joy as my stomach simultaneously churned. I didn’t know what to feel. There was still so much we hadn’t discussed. And so much to bedone. “David, I—I haven’t even started the divorce process yet.”
“These past few weeks have been the best of my life,” he said. “Surfing with you yesterday, hanging out on the beach, seeing you light up with laughter . . . you’ve been in my life for so little time, yet I can’t imagine it without you.” He slid his hand from my wrist to interlace our fingers. “I want you to be my wife. Maybe it can’t be for a while, maybe you even want to wait a couple years. It doesn’t matter to me. Just tell me one day, you’ll be my wife. Tell me yes.”
It was a moment every girl dreamed of. A moment Idesperatelywanted. But my mouth went desert-dry as my heart pounded against my chest. Jessa had told me to talk to David quickly. But I’d thought we’d had more time. Now, it was both too soon and too late. Here he was, asking me to make the same promises Bill had. And I knew that with the one simple discussion we hadn’t had, everything could change.Everything.
I looked away so I wouldn’t have to see his expression. “It’s too soon,” I said.
“I know. It is too soon.” He stroked my cheek with his thumb. “But we don’t have to tell anyone.”
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, my throat painfully thick. “I—I can’t. Things are too . . .”
“Hey,” he called softly. “Olivia, look at me. It’s okay. Don’t freak out.”
“I’m not freaking out.” I turned back to him with a forced smile, but he wasn’t buying it.
