I frowned. “And Whit…?”
“Whit’s sketchy,” she said. “So we’ll send him to poke around.”
“Search for some secret stock of assassin snakes?”
“If that’s what it takes,” she said. “The point is—Amelia came to me for help, and I want to help her. If Abel Trent actually killed her…we have to stop him so she can be at rest. Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful for her help all this time, but she…she’s given me so much. I want to do this for her.”
I stared at her, our eyes locked. A thousand thoughts raced through me, impulses, desires…
I moved to get up, carefully pushing her away.
“You stay right there,” I said.
“Silas?”
I didn’t answer her as I got out of the tub, dripping all over the floor and heading toward my clothes. I’d left my shirt carefully folded on the counter, wary of the precious cargo inside—the ring I’d taken from Grandma Hazel’s jewelry box. The shirt was still a little damp from the rain, and I was cautious as I unfolded it and grabbed the ring.
When I turned back around, June was resting both arms on the edge of the tub, her chin propped on her hands—and her eyes widened at the glisten of gemstones in my fingers.
“Silas,” she started.
But I was already getting down on one knee—dripping, completely naked, and entirely unprepared.
“June Fontenot,” I said. “I know…I know I already asked, even if it was the heat of the moment…but now I’m askin’ again. Proper this time.”
She blinked, her lips parting like she was about to speak…but nothing came out. I could see it in her eyes: that flicker of disbelief, the rush of emotion, the way she was processing all the things I wasn’t saying out loud.
I held up the ring.
“We’ve both known grief,” I kept saying, the words tumbling out more articulately than I ever could have hoped. “We’ve known pain…but we found our way here, to each other. And when I look at you, June, I don’t feel haunted anymore. I feel found.”
The sapphire caught the light, setting a flicker of shimmering light through her eyes. And June…she was crying now, her lips parted slightly.
“I don’t want to waste any more time,” I said, my voice hoarse. “I already live in your house…you already have my heart. I want you to have my name, too—if you want it, of course, I mean…fuck, June, will you marry me?”
A beat passed, maybe one of the most terrifying moments of my life.
Then June let out a noise somewhere between a laugh and a sob, and water surged out of the tub as she launched herself out of it. She kissed me hard, lips and tongue and pure joy, and I kissed her back, stunned and soaking and half on the bathroom floor.
“I’m assumin’ that’s a yes?” I laughed, holding her.
June was kissing all up and down my face, my neck, her knees on either side of my hips. “Yes…yes, God yes. Obviously yes.”
“Then hang on,” I said, still laughing. “Let me get this on your finger before it gets lost…”
I pulled back just slightly, holding it up to June’s left hand. She let me slide the ring onto her finger…and it fitperfectly, as if it had been made just for her.
“It fits,” she whispered.
“‘Course it does,” I murmured. “It was always yours.”
She looked from the ring to my eyes, her hair a halo of damp blonde waves down her shoulders…and I remembered in that moment exactly what position we were in. June seemed to remember it, too, because her hips rocked slightly against me, my cock responding instantly.
I groaned. “June…you’ve had a long night.”
She bit her lip and smirked. “And I can think of just the thing to help me relax,” she said.
Then she braced her hands on my shoulders, locked her gaze with mine, and sank down on my cock.
