“I do.” He’s smiling, but worry lines are starting to appear in that spot between his eyes. “Will you? Marry me?”
Without hesitation, I launch myself into his arms, causing him to fall back onto his ass. “Yes. Of course, silly man. Of course, I’ll marry you.”
When our mouths meet, we kiss like we always do, deeply and passionately.
“Get a room,” Bella shouts from her spot behind us.
Pulling back, I turn my head to look at my people. “We’re getting married.”
“About time.” My dad has been very vocal about the fact that Chase and I have been living together for quite some time. We had to wait until the kitchen and bathroom were functional before we could live here, but as soon as they were, he moved out of his Excelsior rental while I left Dad’s place.
It’s been great. Perfect. Amazing.
No. It has. We may be opposites in many ways, but that makes us perfect roommates. If I make a mess, he cleans it up. If he’s hungry, I make him a sandwich. And when we want to be naughty, well, that’s the best part of all. Sex with Chase has never gotten old. He’s adventurous and a tad domineering but not in a bad way. I like it. Plus, I’ve gotten a lot more practice at it, so I’ve been known to take the lead now and then.
“To Lou Lou and Chase,” Bella says, raising her glass of champagne. The rest of us follow suit.
Chase lifts my left hand. I watch as he slides the ring onto my finger. “I forgot about the ring.” Then, I laugh.
“Because you and I both know it’s not about the jewelry.”
Nope. It’s about us.
Which reminds me. I suppose an update on the treasure is in order.
It’s mine. I got to keep it, but it took quite a long time to determine that it was rightfully mine. There’s something called the Treasure Trove Law in the United States. That means that whatever I find in or on my property belongs to me. And while I believe that’s a solid law, I still wanted to be sure that it didn’t originally belong to a family in Germany. That meant we had to get some historians involved to determine the age and origin of the coins, in particular. The gems were all natural and uncut, which meant that they were, most likely, never made into jewelry or bejeweled anything else. The coins were Saxon, which is what Bill mentioned that day. I suppose he knew. He’d heard the story about how his grandfather was cheated out of his share of the treasure by Joseph Feinster all those years ago.
According to Bill, his grandfather followed Joseph Junior from Ohio through Nebraska. Apparently, Joseph stayed with the Littles for a short time. When Bill’s grandfather confronted Joseph Junior on the front steps of the Little house as he was leaving, Joseph claimed he’d lost the treasure in a game of poker back in Chicago.
Not trusting the cheat, Schumacher insisted on searching Feinster’s belongings but found no treasure.
Bill claimed that’s why his grandfather stayed in Zodiac Hills, because he was tired of following Feinster across the country, and he liked it here.
As far as the break-in on the house, Bill hired some lowlifes from Excelsior to help tear up my house and it’s because of one of those guys, who couldn’t keep his mouth shut at Brother’s one night, that Finn was onto Bill. He was close to an arrest when everything came to a head that day.
The other curious part of this story that remained unanswered for months had to do with Joseph Feinster III. I got answers when his lawyer finally deigned to speak with me. I guess telling them I found a treasure that used to belong to his client’s father was the right thing to say, because a day later, the man himself, Feinster the Third, called me directly.
When I told him what I’d found during my renovation, he attempted to convince me that it was rightfully his, but when I explained the Treasure Trove Law, he dropped it. During the phone call, though, he told me that his father admitted to the theft on his deathbed. He also told his son where to find it. When I refused to sell, he assumed I’d already found the treasure. I explained, “I had. Not the coins or the gems. The house. That’s the treasure. I wasn’t ready to part with it.”
“Well, my dear, I wish you much happiness.”
His response shocked me, so much so, that weeks after we spoke, I still expected a letter from one of his lawyers claiming his rightful ownership of the loot. But nothing ever came. He would have lost, but still, I’m surprised he didn’t try.
With the ring on my finger and the toasts made, we welcomed our friends from Zodiac Hills into our home. Everyone brought food to share because potlucks are a Midwestern tradition. Music blared through our in-home speaker system. Songs from my favorites, like ABBA and Donna Summer, played all day and into the evening.
It was the perfect day.
Absolutely perfect.
And the night? Alone with my man, my fiancé, well, it was even better.
As he turned off the light, he kissed me softly. “Love you.”
“Love you too.”
We’re quiet for several minutes. I’m waiting to see if he’s going to make his move. I listen to make sure he didn’t fall asleep. It was a big day, after all. When I sense him looking at me, I roll closer to him, place my hand first on his face, then I let it roam down, down, down, right over his boxers. “You awake?
He is. I can feel it in my palm.