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Anticipation got the best of her. British bobbed up and down, then remembered the swelling. She sat down and took the box from his hands. Her polished nails pushed into the lining of the lid and flipped it open.
Hmm, she thought with confusion. Instead of some fabulous diamond she’d expected, she found an old-fashioned silver key. Blinking, she looked into Donovan’s smiling eyes and tried to figure out how to get over her disappointment. Instead of asking her to marry him, he was asking her to...shack up?
“This isn’t just any key, British,” Donovan said softly. “This is the key to the Mas Beauty School. I’m turning part of the building into a satellite office so I can run Ravens Cosmetics and be here with you. I know that with the girls winning the challenge you get more time in the lab at the school but I want you to have your own new fully equipped lab here for experiments for your after-school teams, or you can use it as your own STEM shop if you want.”
Her own lab? Any other day she would kill for an opportunity like this, she reminded herself. This was a major step for Donovan, her perpetual bachelor. Keeping that in mind, British palmed the key and opened her arms. “This is wonderful, Donovan.”
“So we’re doing it?” he asked, pleased as punch.
“We’re doing it,” British squealed in delight.
Donovan pulled her into his arms. “What I want to do to you is highly inappropriate right now,” he whispered in her ear. “But we have prying eyes.”
Electricity jolted through her. Everything else was forgotten. “Let’s get out of here.”
“Perfect.”
Everyone seemed to accept the excuse of British being tired. Donovan led her to the horse-drawn carriage again. A car would have been quicker. There was a high probability she and Donovan might do a few naughty things under the heavy plaid blanket.
“So do you promise you like the idea of working together?”
Did it make her a bad person for wanting more this evening? A chance encounter with death had made British realize she wanted Donovan for more than a temporary fling. She loved him with every ounce of breath she had left in her and wanted to spend every moment with him—in matrimony. “I love it. Wait—I can still teach, right?”
Donovan laughed. His arm wrapped around her shoulder felt so natural. “Of course you can. Did I ever tell you about how my grandmother used to work so much that my grandfather, instead of demanding her to stay home more, built a desk next to hers so they could spend more time together?”
“That’s so sweet,” British cooed. She waved at some of the people on the streets out for an evening walk. Nothing could really get any better than this. She was in a horse-drawn carriage in the town she loved with the man she loved even more. “I’m not sure I can sit next to you all day long, though.”
“Don’t worry, I wouldn’t make you. Besides, I’m not always going to be home.”
British sat up. “What?”
“Ravens Cosmetics is based in Miami, so of course I’ll have to fly down.”
She missed him already. British tried to smile. She fiddled with her bare fingers. “Maybe we can fly together.”
“Oh, we’re definitely going to travel sooner than later, especially with the holidays in a few days.”
Nodding, British understood. The Ravens Cosmetics ad wasn’t going to go off like Will had planned. Thanks to taking time away from the company to nurse her back to health, Donovan had never found a replacement model for the job that Tracy girl wanted.
The carriage stopped at the dangling light on Main Street. They were not far from the bakery. British was mad for knowing that. “I’m sorry you never found your perfect girl.”
“I found my perfect girl.”
“Ha, ha.” British wrinkled her nose at him. “You’re funny.”
“No. Seriously, I found the perfect person for the new line. C’mon and I’ll show you. Driver, will you stop here?”
The chauffeur pulled the reins. Donovan got out first then helped British by holding her in his arms again. She half smiled and half bit her lip, knowing she could stay like this forever.
“Look.” Donovan pointed to the storefront at Grits and Glam Gowns. The interior lights were off, as expected for a Friday night. The glow of a streetlamp shone on a sprig of mistletoe hanging from the canopy of the doorway. British made a mental note to make him honor the kissing tradition. Donovan snapped his fingers and a set of lights flickered on to shine on a poster-sized advertisement on an easel inside the store. British tiptoed under the awning for a better look. The lavender letters, outlined in gold, gave the name of the product.
“Generations?” British said aloud.
Her eyes focused on the familiar faces staring back at her. Her grandmother, her mom, her sisters and her nieces were all seated together on a long white couch. Their dark hair and beauty popped off the print.
British’s eyes roamed quickly, scanning and taking in every inch of the beauty ad. Everyone was so beautiful. Her heart filled with pride. When her eyes roamed for the third time, she caught a glimpse of the carriage behind her in the oval shape of the window. She spun around to find out where Donovan had gone off to and found him on bended knee.
“British,” Donovan said, opening a box. “There’s one more thing I needed to ask you this evening.”
