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“Hey,” Colin says. “It’s only me.”
“Shit.” I place a hand over my heart. “You scared me.”
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to.” He sits down next to me. “I went for a jog and saw you coming down here from the top of the road.” Studying me closely, he adds, “I thought you were having a girls’ night in Cape Town.”
I blow out a shaky sigh. “There isn’t a party.”
He frowns. “Why?”
Shifting sideways, I face him. “Angelo proposed.”
“What?” His expression turns thunderous. “He came to see you again? That son of a bitch. Where is he now?”
“I don’t know. He left after telling me I had until tomorrow.”
“For what?”
“To prepare myself.” I shrug. “To get used to the idea.”
“I never wanted to kill someone with my bare hands, but I swear—”
“Please, no more talk of killing. I’ve had enough of that.”
“Bella.” He grips my chin. “I know you’ve never been completely honest with me. I know there’s plenty you’re not telling me.”
Pulling free, I look away. “There’s plenty I didn’t know myself.”
He’s quiet for a moment. After a beat, he says, “Marry me. Tomorrow.”
I look back at him quickly. “What?”
“Marry me,” he says again. “Tomorrow morning. There’ll be nothing he can do about it when he comes back for you.”
Staring at him with disbelief, I scoot back. “It’s not like that between us.”
The muscles in his temples bunch. “We care about each other. We’re best friends. We understand each other. I know you better than you know yourself. I already told you, in my opinion, that’s the best foundation for a marriage.”
“We were talking about a relationship, not marriage, and we were no more than teenagers.”
“My age never prevented me from knowing what’s right for me. I’m a practical man. You know that. We’ll work together. I wouldn’t have offered if I wasn’t sure.”
“Oh, Colin.” I bite my lip. “You don’t know half of it. If you did, you wouldn’t make such an offer.”
“Then tell me.” He catches my ankles and pulls me closer. “Tell me everything, and don’t leave a damn thing out. Go on. I dare you.”
“Even if I could tell you, I wouldn’t. You’ll run for the hills.”
“I’m not scared off that easily,” he says with a crooked smile. “Try me.”
“You’ll never look at me the same again.”
“Tell me,” he says, squeezing my ankles. “If I’m still here when you’re done, you’ll marry me.” He makes a funny face. “Won’t that make all your problems go away?”
I can’t help but laugh. “You’re impossible.”
His expression turns serious. “I’m listening.”
For a moment, I wonder how it will be to be his wife. We have a good, solid friendship and mutual interests. There may not be sparks, but I love him in a different way. Wecanbe good together. I can be a decent wife to him, making up for the shortcoming of passion in other ways.
