“I don’t think you were.”
She frowns but doesn’t object when I steer her to the side of the dancing fountains in front of the Bellagio. Leaving the crowd behind, I stop at a semi-secluded section of the curved edge and turn her to face me.
“I know he’s trying,” she says, looking torn. “He has for the last few years… since my mom died. And he didn’t hesitate to help last summer, even though he got hurt.” Her struggle to rationalize the emotions warring with her thoughts is written all over her face.
“Dr. Swan suggested maybe the reason he’s trying now, instead of when I was younger, is because he couldn’t handle my mom’s infatuation with him. Not that it ever stopped him from climbing into her bed whenever he felt like it.”
The bitterness is back in her voice. She looks up at me. “I don’t know. Brady seems to be giving him a chance… Maybe I should?”
I bend and place a soft kiss on her lips and then lift her by her hips to set her on the tall planter, bringing her to almost eye level with me. “There is noshould. I’m sure your therapist told you that, too. You don’t owe him anything. If you want to give him a chance, do it because it’s what you want to do, not because anyone else is making you feel guilty about it.”
She chews her lip, clearly thinking about it. “Do you think I should?”
I think for a moment before answering, knowing how I respond is important.
“I hated him on sight.” She jerks at my words. “He hurt you. I hate anyone who hurts you.” My lips quirk. “It’s just the way it is. But I saw his face when he saw me. When he recognized who… what I am… I saw the concern. It doesn’t excuse anything he’s done, but it wasn’t the face of a man who didn’t care about his daughter.”
She blows out a breath, and I tuck her hair behind her ears when it falls forward, hiding her face from me.
“That said… Fuck him for letting you down. If you need me to put my murder-face on to scare him away, I’m happy to.”
I smile when she laughs softly. “I don’t think that will be necessary.” Her shoulders drop slightly. “I think my dad genuinely feels bad for his mistakes. I just don’t know if he’s learned from them. I don’t know that I want to risk that kind of hurt again.”
I step closer, and her knees shift, letting me step between. Cupping her cheek, I stroke it with my thumb. “I think that is entirely justified. Your heart is the most important thing in my world. Mine’s tied to it now, permanently… So, I need you to take care of it.”
Her lips part, but I don’t kiss her. My throat tightens as I bring my other palm to frame the opposite side of her face. The music from the fountains and spray of the water give us a small spot of privacy, which is good because this isn’t a conversation I want overheard.
“Liev?” A small line forms between her brows.
“I know this isn’t the right time—even before your dad interrupted—or the place, but we need to talk about what comes next. When we leave here in a couple of days. When the job is over.”
The tiny wrinkle is joined by another, and I feel her stiffen. She’s bracing herself for something bad, I realize, and all the logical arguments I’ve formed in my head, each carefully calculated to make her say yes, disappear.
“Marry me,” I blurt out.
Her eyes are enormous. “What?”
“Fuck. That didn’t come out right.” Unfamiliar nerves clench in my stomach.
“Liev—”
“We should get married.” I shake my head.
That doesn’t sound right, either.
“I want to marry you.”
Fuck. That’s not much better.
My heart is beating so hard I think she can hear it.
Her brow scrunches further, and she reaches up to catch my wrists. “Breathe, Gangster. You look like you’re about to pass out. And you are way too big for me to carry.”
I look down at her face, and my pulse slows, my breath evening out. Everything calming inside me.
Because that’s what she does to me. She’s become my lodestone. The thing that keeps me steady and gives me something worth fighting for—a future I never hoped to have.
Ineedher to say yes.
