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“Well, just look at this man, Emile. When he arrived looking all dashing and debonair in his tux, all I could do was pound on him.” She wriggled her eyebrows suggestively. “Don’t be surprised if he passes out early from exertion.”
“Careful, little one, the night is still young.” Brock’s guttural voice washed over her.
“Hmm, I’ll take that as a promise of delightful debauchery later,” she teased with a broad smile at Emile, who from the red blotches blooming over his cheeks wasn’t used to such blatant flirting.
“Tsk-tsk, you should have more care, young lady. I’m an old man.”
“Pfft, you’re far from old. Your eyes glimmer with the vigor of youth.” Jordan frowned as his greeting earlier registered. “Guests of honor?” She looked at Brock. “I thought we’re having an intimate dinner to celebrate the fact that you finally conceded I have been healed more than a month ago already.”
“Well, that was the intention but when the rest of our friends heard what I’m about, they demanded to be invited.”
Jordan’s gaze found the rowdy group in the far corner, chatting and debating up a storm.
“I don’t understand. What you…” Her voice drifted off as she found Brock on one knee in front of her. “Brock? What the—”
“I won’t get a word in edgewise with that ruckus they’re making, so I figured I’ll just do it here.”
“Are you about to… to…” Joy filled her heart. A beatific smile brightened her face. “I see that you are,” she crooned as he plucked a rose from the table next to them and held it out to her. “Well, it’s a good thing I decided to wear my best LBD tonight, seeing as it’s such a special occasion.”
Brock frowned. “LBD?”
“Little black dress. Every woman has at least one of those.” A dimple appeared in her cheek. “My apologies, Sir, I interrupted you. Please… do continue.”
“Trust you to make a proposal this difficult,” Brock muttered as he dug a small black velvet box out of his pocket.
Jordan had difficulty focusing on him through the blur of tears that filled her eyes. He was such a proud man, yet here he was… on one knee, in front of the patrons of a packed restaurant. For once she forced the words that wanted to tumble from her lips back. She needed to know that he wanted to be with her, that she was worth the asking, worth the traditional wedding proposal. That was the important thing. It wasn't about the ring or the rose, it was about seeing that she was the one for whom he'd risk his pride. Then, once asked, she could say yes.
She supposed it was a rite of passage of sorts for them.
He needed the courage to ask.
She needed the patience to wait.
“I never thought I’d ever get on my knees for any woman,” he said with a tender smile. The implication that he hadn’t asked his first wife in similar fashion meant more than she cared to admit.
“To be honest, my love, I never expected to find you in this position either.”
Romance movies generally portrayed these scenes as soulful and she’d always laughed at it but in this moment there was something so sweet and warm as she stared at him. Both their hearts were fully open and vulnerable, on the verge of forming the eternal bond to mold them together and make them stronger as a couple.
“I’m not much of a poet, love, nor do I have flowery words to offer. I do know that when I thought I’d lost you, the world around me turned dark. It was in that moment that I knew what I had long suspected— that I loved you. After all the years of denying myself permission to feel anything, loving you was a quiet emotion that in a short time became part of the air that I needed to breathe. It was the simplest thing for you, with your eyes and voice, your touch and sexy confidence to wrap your soul around my heart and make me yours. I know we are meant to be, my love. Jordan Victory Sutton, you made me whole again, made me believe in happiness and I can’t think of anything I want more than to call you my wife. Will you, honey? Marry me?”
When she’d realized at first what he was about, she’d fully intended to be flippant and funny but he had completely disarmed her with his eloquent words. She was defenseless as she stared into his eyes.
“I wish I could say these are my words but when I read them in an article yesterday, all I could think of was how it reflects what I feel for you.” Her fingers skimmed over his lips. “Love is sweet, yet more as fresh fruit than candy or confectionery. Love is colorful, yet more as summer blooms than the neon lights of frenetic city streets. Love is steady and forgiving, yet more as the wise mother than the servant in chains. Love hears and speaks with the wisdom of the heart, with a sense of the soul of the other. In love we have our forever home and it gives us the ability to fly so freely, joyfully returning when each heart calls for the other’s touch.” She leaned forward and kissed him briefly. “Do you know what thought flashed through my mind when you kissed me in the recovery room after the operation, honey?”
“Tell me, love.”
“That I have finally found my forever home.” Tears of joy trailed a silvery line over her cheeks. “I can’t think of anything I want more in life than to be called your wife. Yes, Brock Carter, I will marry you.”
He opened the velvet box and with utmost care pushed the ring onto her finger.
“Oh, my!” She stared in awe at the gorgeous sapphire and diamond ring.
“When I saw it, it felt like I was looking into your eyes.” He got to his feet and wrapped her in his arms. “God, I love you, Jordan. More than I thought I’d ever be able to feel again.”
“And I you, Brock. So much, it scares me.”
“Hey! You were supposed to ask her at the table,” Cruz complained behind them. Brock ignored him, preferring to seal the special moment with a passionate kiss.
