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“Are you satisfied, Vicky?”
“Are you asking can we walk,Little One?”
“Yes. I’m freezing my ass off.” Luxury lifts from me.
“I knew you were. Alright, you get until the time it takes us to enter our home before I . . .” I kip up and pause as the bloody ring box falls from my trousers.
Luxury grabs it before I’ve finished. My Little One has never moved so swiftly in her life.
“Lux, don’t open—”
Too bloody late.“What’s this, Vic?”
I glance at the princess-cut engagement ring Luxury holds in the palm of her hand.
“Well, that’s not how this was supposed to happen. On the ride home, I outlined a few grand gestures. Proper proposals. I secured enough flowers to lace over a bloody high-rise roof of—”
“Vic . . .”
“Now, I’m—albeit selfishly—telling myself I’m just an ordinary man in love with an extraordinary woman. Who’s beautiful on the inside and out. Still, you deserve aproper proposal.”
28
Luxury
As Victor speaks, I get all choked up, unable to cease the dictator’s tender rant. There’s a subtle nervousness to the deep pitch of his voice as he says, “I’m—albeit selfishly—telling myself I’m just an ordinary man who’s in love with an extraordinary woman. Who’s beautiful on the inside and out. Still, you deserve aproper proposal.”
“Forget what I deserve, Victor. I’m standing in front of what Iwant.” I hear my voice, although my heart pounds in my ears. It’s as if I’ve spoken without allowing the thoughts to construct themselves in my psyche.
I know this man’s never anxious, yet he seems at a loss for words now. I clutch tightly to the diamond that had fallen from Victor’s pants. I repeat, “I just want you.”
“And I, you,” Victor replies. “I was away for so bloody long. On the return flight, I vowed never to leave your side, not ever. Not without you being a trillion percent sure of my love.”
“Ahhh, a trillion percent. Vicky, I’m a gazillion percent sure.” I grin, softly swaying side to side with my ring held tightly in my hands.This ring is mine. He is mine!
“There’s no such thing as a gazillion, Little One. And trillions and quadrillions are just approximations.” He runs a heavy hand over the back of his neck. “For that matter, 100% isn’t really accurate.” Victor continues to ramble. “I know stats.”
I chuckle at how nerves have overtaken his normally confident mouth. “Sure, you do. But you’re using the part of your brain that fashioned Tudor Enterprise. Not your heart, Victor.”
As his thick brows kick together, I add, “Screw a quadrillion or whatever, baby. As I said, I friggen love you a gazillion. You’ll have to fight me on that and for your ring.”
“I’m positive I’d win, sweetheart,” he undertones, finally allowing the jumbled crunch of his jaw to loosen into a smile. The moment is surreal as Victor removes the ring from my hand.
“Shall I make a grand gesture of this, Luxury?”
“You did. There are flowers on the Empire State Building, right?”
“Not the Empire . . .” He groans, then chuckles. “Dammit, Luxxie. This isn’t a grand gesture.”
“It is.”I glance around. “We’re standing here. I’m freezing my ass off.”
He starts to stride to where the blanket has fallen. “Not help—”
I clasp his hand, the heels of my feet digging into the sand to garner control. “Marriage is through thick and thin. It’s the good times, the friggen shitty times. It’s suffering together.” I pretend to burrow in the wind, but a strong gust has me really trembling.
“It’s suffering together,” I pause, clear my throat, and realize I gotta tell him about Madeline.
Not tonight, though.
