“He was a rager in life too,” Luc assured her.
This morning, I woke up before Luc—a rarity—and pushed up on my elbow to watch him sleep. The interior of the tent was cold, but I was warm, thanks to his immense body heat. He’s pretty much the equivalent of a living, breathing, human blast furnace.
Seeing him so relaxed, his heartbreak and worries momentarily wiped from his brow—Luc doesn’t grow more boyish in sleep, he looks even more manly, more solid, if that’s possible—I felt a tug under my left breast. Like a string had attached my ribs to my heart, and every breath, every beat was connected. One to the other. Like Luc’s connected to me. Like I’m connected to him.
Grief is a bastard. It truly is. But it’s nothing compared to love. And in that moment, looking at Luc, feeling that tug under my breast, I admitted he isn’t only my best friend or my boyfriend or the guy I’m sleeping with.
He’s my everything.
His breathing never changed. His eyelids never fluttered. So the sudden sound of his voice in the confines of the tent startled me. “I can’t tell if you’re thinking ’bout kissing me or strangling me in my sleep.”
When his eyes opened, I wanted to fall into their dark depths and stay there.
“I’malwaysthinking about kissing you.” Then, when I added, “Happy Mardi Gras,” I wished I’d stopped while I was ahead.
His expression hardened. A muscle ticked in his jaw. “Is it Mardi Gras already? I reckon we don’t have much to celebrate this year.”
“No.” I shook my head. “We don’t. But this morning, I woke up and saw you lying here beside me, my knight in shining armor, and I realized something.”
“I’m no knight in shining armor,” he demured.
“You’re right,” I agreed. “You’re my knight in bent and rusty armor. You’ve been to war, you’ve slayed the dragon, you’ve fought the big fights.”
“Which ones were those again?”
“You fought for me when I was fourteen, keeping me from doing something horrible. You’ve fought for me since you came back, never giving up on me even though I gave you plenty of reasons to do exactly that. And you’re fighting for Cash now. Fighting to make this as comfortable and peaceful and easy for him as it can be.”
“Neither of you has ever needed me to fight for you. You’ve both always had all the strength you’ll ever need to win your own battles.”
“Maybe,” I said. “Or maybe we’ve been strong becauseyou’restrong.”
“What did you realize?” he asked, changing the subject. He’s never been one to bask in compliments. He’s too humble for that.
“I realized I want to spend the rest of my life with you, Luc.” I watched his chest still as he held his breath. “I realized you’re it for me. Full stop. End of story.”
“What are you saying, Maggie May?”
“I’m saying I want to marry you,” I admitted tremulously. “I want to have your babies. I wantallof you, today, tomorrow, and always. I know this is probably too fast. We’ve only been dating for—”
“It’s not too fast,” he quietly interrupted. “It’s been twelve years in the making.”
And he was right. Twelve long years where I needed to grow. Grow out. Grow up. Growinto a woman who might deserve him.
My heart was wild in my chest. “Is that a yes?”
“Of course it’s a yes, Maggie May,” he said without hesitation. “Doncha know? You’re all I’ve ever wanted.”
In that moment, and just that easily, Lucien Dubois went from being my boyfriend to being my fiancé.
Taking my face in his hands, he kissed me. Kissed me and kissed me and kissed me some more. Until my arms and legs were heavy with desire, my belly soft and quivering.
“Is it wrong to be thinking of our future when Cash doesn’t have one?” I asked quietly after he let me catch my breath. “To imagine us being happy without him?”
“We won’t be without him. He’s part of us. He’ll live on in us. Our happinessishis happiness.”
I traced the arch of his eyebrow and smiled. “You always know what to say to make me feel better.”
Then he kissed me again. Kissed me, and rolled on top of me and we made love for the first time in nine days. It was slow love. Quiet love.Truelove. And after we finished, I clung to him and cried.
