Total pages in book: 25
Estimated words: 23525 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 118(@200wpm)___ 94(@250wpm)___ 78(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 23525 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 118(@200wpm)___ 94(@250wpm)___ 78(@300wpm)
I reach into my jacket pocket and pull out the small black velvet box. My thumb brushes the soft fabric as I set it down on the table and slide it across to him.
“What’s this?” he asks, eyeing the box like it might bite him.
“Open it.”
The man looks like he’s on his way to his own funeral as he pries the lid open. The ring inside catches the light—a thin white gold band with a solitaire diamond. Simple and elegant, not gaudy.
“I’m going to marry her,” I say, not giving him the chance to speak. “With or without your blessing. But I figured asking first was the right thing to do.”
His jaw tightens, and for a long moment, he says nothing. Then he leans into the light, and I see his face clearly. Sienna always tells me she favors her mother, but there’s hints of her bone structure in her father’s face. He closes the box with a soft click and sets it back on the table. “You’ve got nerve, asking me for my blessing after basically kidnapping my daughter.”
I refuse to rise to his bait. “I love her, and I’m going to spend the rest of my life making sure she knows it.”
He studies me, his expression sour before reluctant acceptance washes over him. Finally, he sighs, a heavy sound. “You’ve put me in a position, son.”
“I’m not asking you to like me. But I am asking you to respect that she’s made her choice.”
For a moment, the only sound between us is the clink of glasses at the bar. Then, slowly, he nods. “Fine. You can have my blessing as long as you take care of her.”
“I will.” It’s the most serious vow I’ve ever sworn.
He stands, straightening his coat, and I follow suit. As he turns to leave, he pauses, looking back over his shoulder. “She’s my daughter, whether she likes it or not, and if you hurt her—”
“I won’t.”
With that, he walks out, leaving the box on the table. I pick it up, tucking it back into my jacket.
Time to make it official.
Sienna leans back on the blanket I’ve laid out, her gaze fixed on the endless expanse of stars above. I’m beside her, my arms propped behind me, barely able to concentrate on the stars because of how beautiful the woman next to me is. The expensive bottle of wine she insisted on sits between us, its fancy label catching the moonlight.
She pours herself another glass and tilts her head toward me with a teasing grin. “You’re not even touching yours.”
“Wine’s fine, but I’d rather have a beer.”
She laughs, a sound I swear I’ll never grow tired of. “You’re impossible, you know that?”
“Not impossible, just honest.” I pause, deciding to take the plunge before I can second-guess myself. “I talked to your father today.”
She bolts upright, her eyes wide. “What?”
“Yeah,” I say casually, though there’s nothing casual about it. “Met him at a bar. We had a chat.”
“You what?! When? Why? And why on earth would he be in Flagstaff?”
I grin, trying to soften the blow. “Apparently, he’s not as stubborn as you think. Came all this way because he wanted to clear something with me.”
She looks around, as if the man himself is hiding somewhere ready to pop out. “I have no idea what you mean, Garrett.”
I reach into my jacket pocket, fingers closing around the velvet box that feels like it’s been burning a hole there all night. My heart pounds as I pull it out, flipping it open to reveal the ring inside.
Her breath catches, her hands flying to her mouth. “Oh!”
“I wanted to make sure he knew I wasn’t going anywhere,” I say, my voice thick with emotion. “That I’d never let anything happen to you. And that I wanted to spend the rest of my life proving that to you every day.”
Tears glisten in her eyes, her lips trembling as she lowers her hands. “You…you’re serious?”
“As serious as I’ve ever been.” I shift, getting down on one knee on the blanket. “Sienna, will you marry me?”
She launches herself at me, knocking me backward onto the blanket, and I laugh as she kisses me fiercely. I think the wine has spilled, but who the hell cares?
“Yes,” she says against my lips, her voice breaking. “Yes, yes, yes.”
I slide the ring onto her finger, my hand shaking more than I care to admit. It fits perfectly—looks like that asshole Charles did me one favor, giving me a heads up on her ring size when I sold the ugly piece of shit he gave her.
She pulls back just enough to look at the ring, then at me, her smile so radiant it could light up the night around us. “I can’t believe you talked to my dad.”
“Told you I’d do anything for you.”
She laughs, leaning into me, as we lie back under the stars. Her head is on my chest, and her hand is in mine. Everything is right in the world.