“Well, I’d prefer not to come at all, but we both know how that would go over…so how about we come tomorrow?”
“Suit yourself.” His tone is clipped.
My mouth pops open—a response is on the tip of my tongue—but I don't get to say shit because, like always, the bastard hangs up.
What the fuck was that?
I shake my head, slipping my phone back into my pocket. If I look confused, Hero doesn't say shit.
“All done,” Keira chirps behind me. When she comes into view, I see a huge smile on her face. Her eyes are bright and full of happiness. I hide my features and smile back at her. The unease I feel from talking to my brother consumes me.
My brother’s a dick, but he doesn't do shit or ask for shit unless it’s truly needed.
Maria joins us. “Yes, Mr. Rossi, we are all set. This will be a beautiful wedding. I think you will be very pleased with the outcome.”
Of course. After all, she's getting a big fat paycheck when this is over.
I’ve drowned out the dancers on the stage—as have Hero and Keira. Maria and Elyse, however, are clearly uncomfortable with the half-naked girls dancing in the background.
“Well, if no one needs anything else, I guess we’ll see each other at the wedding.”
Maria tries to hide her discomfort by being overly chipper. Armed with her stack of folders and books, she walks out the door like she can’t get away fast enough.
Watching her leave reminds me I want to get out of here too. But boss duties will keep me here most of the day. The excitement of what's to come tonight eases some of the tension from my veins.
I've got it all now. What could possibly go wrong?
I can’t believe how fucking nervous I am. It’s just a stupid ring. It’s not like I'm asking her to marry me. So why does it feel like someone kicked me in the stomach ten times?
I wipe my sweaty palms against my dress slacks. She’s already agreed to marry me—not that she has a choice in that matter. Even if she said no, I'd still make her mine. I grab the little black velvet box from my pocket.
Keira is curled up on my couch, reading a book. I had planned on giving her the ring at dinner, then at dessert, and then I pushed it back to…when we arrived at the house.
I feel sick to my stomach, thinking she may not like it. Maybe I could give it to her after she’s done reading. It’d be rude to interrupt her, right?
Fuck this, I’m being ridiculous. I just need to do it.
I waltz over to her, and she looks up from her book, confusion written all over her delicate features.
“I got you something.” I pull out the box, then sit down next to her. “I hope you like it.” I swallow my anxiety. Her eyes go wide, and understanding settles onto her face , as a softness takes over her features when I hand her the tiny black box.
She doesn't say anything until she flips open the top and sees a two-carat diamond ring set in a white gold band.
“Damon,” she gasps, her hand clutching her chest. “It’s beautiful.”
“You really like it? We can get something else if you don’t.” I rub the back of my neck. My cheeks heat. Fuck…how long has it been since I felt this way?
Keira gazes up at me, her mouth gaping open. “Are you kidding me? It’s stunning. I love it! We’re not returning it, and we’re not getting anything else.”
I take the ring from the box, grab her hand, and slide it onto her slender finger.Thanks to Candy’s trickery, I obtained Keira's ring size without having to ask…thank fuck. Simply so I’d be able to see this moment as it should be seen. Her eyes sparkle as she tears up. She looks at her hand a few more moments, then throws them around my neck and crawls into my lap.
I hold her tight against my chest, burying my nose into her hair so I can breathe her in. She’s soft, and I run my hands up and down her body. I want to strip her bare and hold her close while I move in and out of her with a rhythm that might kill us both.
My lips are seconds from pressing against her skin when the fucking doorbell rings.
Who the fuck has the balls to ring my doorbell?
It rings so seldom, I hardly know what it sounds like, but right this second, I want to disable the fucking thing and rip it from the front door.
