Heat roared low in his belly as she caught his bottom lip between hers and pulled back, ever so gently.
“I, uh…” he stammered once his lips were free, “…should have asked you a long time ago.”
Ivy giggled, then came in for another sensual, drawn out kiss.
“I’m not kidding,” he said, making her laugh again.
He flattened one hand along her back and moved it slowly up to her neck. The soft and silky feel of her skin beneath his palm made his mouth water. Slowly then, Easton moved in to press kisses over the delicate hollow of her throat, allowing his heated breath to tease her between each kiss.
Ah, yes, there’s that whimper I like to hear.
She gripped at his arms, and his pulse spiked.
Barely suppressing the urgency within him, Easton started a teasing trail of kisses up the side of her neck. He sampled the soft lobe of her ear, desperate to kiss her lips once more, when suddenly something tumbled from his hand. The ring box.
That reminded him—she’d said yes. And it was time to get that ring on her finger. “I almost forgot,” he whispered against her skin. “Let’s try that ring on for size.”
He forced himself to release the warm splendor in his arms and reached out to secure the box. His proposal wasn’t entirely out of the blue. The two had started talking about marriage once they confessed their love for each other. Her sisters had been looking at rings with her for quite some time and her selection never wavered.
“That’s the most beautiful ring I’ve ever seen…in person,” she added with a grin.
“Then your sisters didn’t lead me astray,” he said. “Chantelle is going to freak out when she sees you wearing it.” They were headed over there for dinner soon. “We should wait and see who notices first. Her, Tim, or the baby.”
Ivy grinned. “Baby Easton will probably point it out first. Two-month-olds are good at spotting details like that,” she joked.
“Man, I can’t wait to hold that little guy,” Easton admitted.
“Me neither.”
In the light and heat of the flames, Easton pulled the dainty ring from the blue velvet box and balanced it between his finger and thumb. He glanced up at the woman he loved, the very one who’d changed his life in every possible way, and cleared his throat as his emotions gripped hold of him hard. Enough that moisture welled up in his eyes.
Less than one year ago, Easton couldn’t have pictured himself vowing his life to someone. But here he was, thrilled to be doing that very thing. He’d noticed a change in his work at the center too. As the young adults spoke of their uncertainty about marriage and love, Easton could speak from experience about his shift in perspective. About opening up to it when the right person came. And theywouldcome, he felt safe to assure them. When the timing was right, they would come.
He slid the ring onto Ivy’s finger, his heart filled with more love than he knew what to do with, and looked into her eyes. “Do you know how the ring finger became the ring finger?” He’d been waiting to share this one.
Ivy bit her lip, reached out to wipe a tear from his upper cheek, and shook her head. “No.” A small laugh coated her reply. “How?”
He traced a line up the back of her finger. “Before medical science knew how things worked, people thought there was a vein running directly from this fourth finger on your left hand, straight into the heart. Because of that hand-heart connection, they named the veinvena amoris. That’s Latin forvein of love.”
Ivy wiped a tear from her own cheek now. “That will forever be my favorite fun fact of all.”
Easton had to agree. He moved in to kiss her lips once more, thrilling from the truth in his head—he and Ivy would share a life together. They’d no doubt encounter their share of blizzards, but at least now, as the years came, went, and brought what they may, he and Ivy would weather the stormstogether.
***
Thank you for reading Snowed In For Christmas. Keep reading the clean romance with this sample chapter of28 Days With a Billionairefrom the best-selling Benton Brothers Series also by Kimberly Krey.
28 Days With a Billionaire
Chapter 1 (sample)
Camila counted the empty dinner plates before her for the millionth time.
Thirteen. There would now be thirteen guests for Mr. Shimwah’s dinner party instead of eleven. Sparks of panic flared hot beneath her cool façade.
Twelve would have been fine. Twelve would have put her exactlyoneover the expected amount of guests and—as America’s finest culinary institute had drilled into her—planning for an extra guest was imperative.
But two?
