“You aren’t really disappointed, are you?” I ask.
“No. I’m just… I thought you had a charmed life with a famous and powerful dad and all that. And now I see maybe I misjudged you.”
“I can’t complain about my life. For one thing, it’s led me to you.”
She tightens her hand around me. “I knowexactlywhat you mean.”
When we’re home, she takes me to the living room.
“Aren’t you hungry?” We didn’t get to eat anything except a couple of pieces of toast early in the morning.
“Yes, but I want to dance first.” She fiddles with her phone. “Put some order into this chaos.”
I indulge her. I want her to feel free to do anything she wants. “La cumparsita” starts playing from her phone. She approaches me, her steps sexy with her hips loose, her eyes on mine the entire time. I turn with her, extending my hand, palm up. She places hers on it. I feel the corner of my mouth quirking up, and I pull her into my arms, spinning her like a dandelion puff in the air.
A lovely flush colors her cheeks, and we dance to the music. We haven’t tangoed in fourteen years, but we move like our dance in Malibu was only yesterday. Her legs brush against mine, and her feet trace the curve of my calves. Then she’s pressed so close against me that I can feel our hearts beating in complete unison, as though they truly are one.
And as happiness fleets over her, I feel calmer too, the awkward time with my dad fading away.
She turns, and when she stops, I dip her to the final note. She laughs.
I straighten us up. She wraps her arms around my neck. I love intimate moments like this. We don’t have to have sex or talk about life to feel like I’m one with her.
“Grant,” she murmurs into my ear.
“Mmm?” I speak just as softly, luxuriating in the feel of her in my arms. I could stay like this forever and die a happy man.
“I love you.”
Her declaration lances me like an arrow, sweet and irrevocable. A thick lump forms in my throat. No matter how many times I told her “I love you” since that Friday, she never said the words back. I thought it was because she wasn’t sure yet—after all, I have a lot to make up for.
“Marry me,” she says.
I stare, not comprehending. The ring in my pocket pricks my thigh.
Her smile grows broader. “I figured I should propose, since you told me you loved me first.”
My inside swells until it’s so full of love it’s about to burst. I run a hand over my mouth, then over my racing heart, so it stays put in my chest. Pulling the ring out of my pocket, I drop to a knee. “Yes.” I put the ring on her finger. I kiss her hand, then rise to my feet. I cradle her face and kiss her, then hold her hand, then kiss her again, as she laughs like the happiest woman in the world.
The ten-carat diamond on her finger glitters as brightly as our beautiful future.
Chapter Sixty-One
Grant
Aspen and I decide to have our ceremony on a yacht, cruising along the Pacific coast. She said she’d love to do that again, and I thought it’d be perfect. A ship is highly defensible against uninvited guests.
The entire vessel is decked out in ivory silk and lace. Thousands of pink roses cover every surface, their heady scent mingling with the brine of the ocean. We opted for an evening cruise, and the sun is blood orange as it touches the far edge of the sea.
We kept the ceremony small. Aspen invited her nosy Asian neighbor lady from her old apartment, Suyen and her family. I invited my brothers and their wives and a few friends. Mom shows up with a camera, as usual. She said she was going to take some photographs to celebrate our wedding and give them to us to keep. Aspen almost fainted with excitement.
Aspen is absolutely gorgeous in a white Queen Anne dress. The skirt is layered with chiffon. Although it looks simple without a huge train, it’s covered with tiny pearls and diamantes, and they shine and glitter with every step she takes.
When we exchange vows, I get a little choked up. My idiot mistake cost us fourteen years, but here we are. She smiles, then kisses me. “Love you.”
“Love you more. I’m the luckiest guy alive to be with you right now,” I say as the quartet plays Mendelssohn’s wedding march for our first walk together as a married couple.
Suddenly the sound of tense strings overlays the music. Then the brass blasts the all-too-famous tune of Wagner’s “Ride of the Valkyries.” And the sound is coming from…the sky?
