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It didn’t register at first, so I murmured a vague thanks for the secluded overnight anniversary trip, but when Trevor repeated himself a second time, goosebumps raised on my skin. I was in disbelief, and I needed him to confirm what he meant.
“What is mine, Trevor?” I asked, turning around quickly.
Trevor grinned, taking a few steps back and opening his arms wide. “This. The house, the land … everything. I bought it for you. Happy anniversary, Rachel.”
My hand whipped up to cover my mouth, and behind my fingers, I said, “No. Trevor, it’s too much!”
“You deserve so much more than an apartment in the city where traffic wakes you up five times a night, and the elevator is always broken. It’s only an hour from the city, so you can still work, but you will have your own space to grow and bloom, Rachel.”
His voice was so sincere, but I still wanted to object, even as he sank to one knee and pulled a small velvet box out of the pocket of his blazer. I made a strangled sound as he opened it, the diamond and simple gold band reflecting the candlelight as if they themselves were full of fire.
“Marry me.”
It was so sudden, like a strike of lightning, that my brain struggled to catch up. It had only been a year, and who buys a housebeforeproposing? And I hadn't even met his mother! But all of those hesitations were washed away as I took in the perfect house, the handsome, attentive man, and the imaginable life that lay ahead of me if I agreed. At the time, I felt like I had nothing to lose, and with Trevor, nowhere to go but up.
“Ohmigod,” I breathed. “Yes. Yes!”
He swept me into his arms, so fast that I didn’t even see him move, and he spoke so rapidly I had a hard time keeping up. We were both laughing happily as he squeezed me tight.
“You’re mine, and everything is going to change for you now, baby. Your life is about to begin,” Trevor gushed, and it wasn't until the last statement that I felt even a trickle of apprehension. To me, my lifehadalready started and was going quite well in my opinion, but I ignored this apprehension, refusing to get caught up in technicalities on the night of my engagement.
I let him pull back and kiss me on the mouth fully, his lips possessive and unhesitating on mine as my eyes fluttered shut. I fell into the kiss right along with him, Trevor’s tongue sweeping into my mouth hungrily, but no matter how much I tried to let my mind float away from the pleasure of it all, I kept returning to the present. There was justso muchhappening.
Trevor had moved from my mouth to my jawline while his hands cupped my ass from behind. He was still talking between kisses and love bites, almost like he couldn’t stop himself, whispering and groaning sweet nothings and promises against my skin, and I wanted nothing more than to go right along with him into the haze of arousal.
I put my hands on his shoulders and pushed back just slightly. “Hey, shouldn’t we talk about some things? You haven’t even put the ring on my finger,” I panted airily, and Trevor froze, composing himself quickly, straightening his collar before opening the ring box again.
“I guess I got a little carried away,” he said, voice husky. “Give me your hand, baby.”
I extended it, doubly glad I had gotten my nails touched up the day before, as he slid the band onto my ring finger. A perfect fit, of course, the glittering clear gem in the center nearly the size of a pea. I held it up to the nearest lit candle, balanced on the railing of the balcony, and exhaled in awe at how stunning it was.
“I think I’m in shock,” I told him, and he moved forward, unable to keep his hands off me as he wrapped his arms around my waist.
“Perks of working in the art world,” he said. “It’s vintage Tiffany.”
“Oh, so that’s why the house has no furniture,”
I felt Trevor laugh. “Baby, I could get you one for every finger and still fill this house up with whatever you want.”
I couldn’t help myself. The mention of his job was too tempting, and I pried for just the smallest bit of information. “What other things do you see at your job?”
My fiancé stilled against me. “A variety.”
I knew if I pushed harder, he would balk, so I tucked the little morsel of information about the Tiffany ring away and gazed at his lips inches from mine. “Lucky me then. So, what else is on the agenda tonight, future husband?”
“Anything you want,”
“Do they have takeout in Lace Elm?”
“I’m sure they have something,” Trevor responded, his hands starting to wander my body again until his fingers brushed the undersides of my breasts beneath my shirt. I shivered.
“Let’s go into town, get a bottle of cheap wine and bubble bath from the drugstore I’m sure is open, and then some takeout. We’ll eat it on the ground out here … but there is something we need to take care of first.”
“Hm?”
“I think…” I skimmed my finger down his neck. “We should make sure the bed is satisfactory to sleep in until the morning. A stress test, if you will. What do you think?”
Even in the dim, flickering light, I could see his eyes go dark and his soft smile turn sharp before he swept me into his arms, carrying me back through the patio door while I worked at the buttons on his shirt.
