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“When is the wedding?” Eden bounces on her heels.
“Soon.” June smiles. “You’ll come back for it, won’t you?”
Eden’s gaze meets mine. “We’ll come back for it, won’t we, Dylan?”
I nod because I’ll go anywhere with her.
It’s the reason I followed her out of the bedroom when the doorbell rang. I joked that the doorman would get it. Eden scoffed and told me that I was spoiled rotten.
We had both just finished getting dressed. It’s barely nine a.m., but Eden didn’t mind the intrusion. She invited Chet and June in as soon as she swung open the door to her condo.
“We want you to rest.” Chet reaches for Eden’s hand. “I was worried, Ed. I told everyone at work that you were too tough to let an accident keep you down for long.”
Eden squeezes his hand briefly. “I’m glad you both stopped by.”
“We ordered some flowers.” June wraps a hand around Chet’s bicep. “They’ll be delivered this afternoon. If you need anything, you’ll call us?”
Eden slides her hand into mine. “I have everything I need right here.”
***
“I can brush your hair if you want,” I offer once Chet and June Bug take off.
Eden runs her right hand through her hair. “Why? Is it messy?”
Beautifully so.
“It’s perfect.” I sigh. “You’re perfect.”
She looks down at the simple light blue sundress I helped her get into earlier. I slid on her lingerie first, taking special care with her sprained arm. I adjusted the sl
ing so there wasn’t too much pressure on her neck.
I put on a new pair of jeans and a plain black T-shirt I bought yesterday.
“You can ask me the question,” she says matter-of-factly.
“I don’t have a ring yet,” I say with a smirk.
A blush creeps high on her cheeks. “Oh, no. Gosh, no. I didn’t mean that.”
“You don’t want to marry me?” I tease because I know damn well that if I dropped to a knee right now, she’d say yes.
I have the perfect ring in mind. I doubt it exists, so when I’m back in Manhattan, I’m going to visit Ivy Marlow-Walker. She’s the owner of Whispers of Grace. She helped me design a necklace for my mom’s birthday two years ago. I trust her with the task of bringing my vision of an engagement ring to life.
A brilliant sapphire will take center stage. Small diamonds will line the band.
I’ve given this some serious thought.
“You know the answer to that question.” She glances down. “Don’t ask me until the time is right.”
“That’s a deal,” I agree with a nod of my head.
“I was talking about the question about what June meant when she asked if I’d be back for their wedding.”
I’m a reasonably smart guy.
I noticed the cardboard boxes near the front door. I saw the business card of a Buffalo based real estate agent sitting on her kitchen counter.
