“You do go for the jugular. I’ll make sure everybody sees it and let you know if he turns up,” Marcus agreed.
Now, two days later, she was firmly settled in Eric’s house and her stuff was in storage. At least until Allie finished her treatments. Bree’s plans were still up in the air after that.
Tyson dropped her off outside Eric’s house. Bree promised to be back on chemo duty the next day. Then Eric opened the front door and headed towards her. “Gotta go,” she said through the window.
Eric swept her into a hug on the sidewalk. “Are you okay? What did the doctor say?”
It was everything to have him back. He straddled the line between looking out for her even when she didn’t want it, and letting her have her independence in a way that always let her know he was thinking of her. If he got a little overprotective after she was nearly gutted by a serial killer, she could live with that for a while.
“Clean bill of health. My brain is no more damaged than it was before,” she said.
Eric picked her up and carried her up the walk and inside the house without wasting a second. He sat on the sofa and pulled her into his lap.
It wasn’t the same, living together now. The first six months of learning to live alone again had been rough, but after a while she’d appreciated sole custody of the remote control, and being able to stretch across a double bed without fear of kicking anybody when her alarm went off in the morning.
As good as those benefits were, they couldn’t match snuggling into Eric’s side when a nightmare ripped her out of deep sleep. His wake-ups were better than any alarm clock too.
“I moved the laundry hamper into the bathroom to make room for your dresser in the bedroom, and I emptied out half of the closet. I figure we can split our stuff between the master and the spare bedroom,” he said.
“What about the rest of my stuff?”
“Do you still have your half of our house fund?”
“Yes, I have it.” She’d refused to spend it on rent, which was why she ended up in Marcus’s basement. She’d come close to dipping into that account a couple times, but it was still intact.
“Good. You can live here with me for a few months until this place sells, and then we get our place.”
“Our place?”
“Shit, Bree, I’ve almost lost you twice in a year and half. If you think we’re going back to separate lives now, you’re insane.”
His house was kind of cute. It was a lot smaller than they’d planned, but there were only the two of them for now. They’d divided the furniture when they’d gone their separate ways. Together they’d have a house full of good stuff. A solid pine bedroom set from Eric. A kick-ass pair of black leather loveseats from her place. Between the two of them, they could make the little blue house a real home.
Eric pulled a small, black velvet box out of his jeans pocket. He cracked the lid and revealed an elegant diamond and white gold engagement ring. It wasn’t the same one Eric had used to propose to her the last time, but something about it was similar.
“I confiscated your old one from your jewelry box. Same stone. Different setting,” he said, like he recognized the confused look on her face. “Because we aren’t who we were, but we’re still us.”
He picked up her hand and kissed each fingertip before he slid the ring onto her fourth finger. “I’ve loved you for years. I’ve no intention of ever stopping. Bree Collingswood, would you do me the extraordinary honour of becoming my wife?”
Bree forgot how to breathe. She had the world at her fingertips, literally, if she were brave enough to reach for it one more time.
“Bree?”
“Yes. Yes, yes, definitely yes!”
Eric captured her face between his hands. “Forever this time, Bree.” His green eyes shone in the light coming through the window from the late afternoon sun. When he kissed her again, every emotion they’d bottled up for the last year came to the surface. Love, longing. Passion, pride. He laid his heart bare with one kiss.
She returned it with joy and forgiveness and hope.
They could have broken into excited conversation after that, planning weddings and honeymoons, but instead they were strangely still. One of Eric’s hands roamed up and down her back; the other stroked the hand wearing his ring. Eventually he did speak again.
“We can wait as long as you want, but how do you feel about Vegas?”
****
