And her fire started to come back.
I made dinner in the kitchen, mushroom risotto with grilled chicken on top. Spending so much time with me had taught her how to cook, so she helped me most of the time, and I suspected she would do it on her own eventually.
Not that I minded cooking for her.
I set the table with a bottle of wine, and we sat together, like we did every night.
She cut into her food and took small bites, eating fewer calories than she did before because she was afraid she would gain weight now that she wasn’t dancing anymore. Her waistline was bigger, and so was her ass.
But I liked it.
“Have you talked to Damien?” It’d been a few weeks since that conversation with her brother.
She shook her head before she took a bite. “No. I thought I would give him space.”
I ate much quicker than her, so I was almost done already. The bottles of wine in my cabinet were all from Barsetti vineyards now, but I’d acquired a taste for it…now that I was too happy to care about shit like that.
“How are things at work?”
“Same.” I wanted to tell her I’d caught Vox to give her peace of mind, and I was disappointed with myself every time I couldn’t. “He doesn’t seem to be anywhere.”
She kept eating and didn’t ask about it further.
I finished my meal then stared at her, drinking the rest of my wine while I waited for her to finish.
When she was done, she did the same, swirling her glass and drinking from it as she looked at me.
The silence was comfortable, like I was sitting across from Balto, where I didn’t feel the need to say something just to fill the silence with words. It was the strongest sense of companionship I’d ever had, to be completely comfortable with another person, to be completely accepted.
She propped her chin on her knuckles as she stared at me. “What?”
I shook my head.
“I can tell you’re thinking.”
“I’m always thinking,” I answered quietly.
“Yeah, but you’re thinking about something specific. I can tell by the look in your eyes.” She took another drink, adding another faint smudge from her lipstick.
I finished the rest of my wine then looked into the empty glass before I regarded her again. I was silent, looking into her green eyes as I considered exactly what to say.
“I’m waiting…”
I’d never been good with words, so I decided not to say anything at all, because she accepted me exactly as I was, all the good and all the bad. I reached into the pocket of my sweatpants and placed my closed fist in the center of the table.
She watched me.
My fingers lightly released it, letting it land gently on the table before I pulled my hand away.
The diamond ring sat there, shining brilliantly under the lamp hanging above us. It was a white gold band with an enormous diamond, ten carats. The band was also studded with small diamonds, equally flawless.
Her eyes got so wide, it looked like they would pop out of her face.
I’d gone to a couple jewelry stores, trying to figure out what she’d want without asking anyone. A few ideas came to mind, from getting a smaller ring or getting something with an emerald or a unique setting. But then I realized she was the most stunning woman I’d ever met, shining like the sun in every room she stepped into. I wanted her ring to be that way, flawless, brilliant, just like the woman who wore it. It was flashy, just like she was. It was noticeable, just like she was. And there was no way any man wouldn’t notice it so they’d stay the fuck away from her.
She continued to stare at it, her eyes not blinking even though it’d been several seconds. “Oh. My. God.” She didn’t touch it, like she wasn’t sure if she was even allowed, and she admired it from a distance. “Jesus, it’s fucking beautiful.” Her hands covered her mouth like she was swallowing a gasp.
She liked it—I could tell.
She finally grabbed the ring with her fingertips, admired it with excited eyes. She had no idea that the diamond reflected a prism of light across her face, brightening up her eyes more. She turned it side to side, her gaze softening as she immediately formed an emotional attachment to it. “It’s exactly what I wanted…” She placed it on her left hand and slid it over the knuckle. Perfect fit. Then she looked at me again, like she didn’t know what to say, where to begin.
“So, you’ll still marry me?” I whispered.
Her eyes crinkled as they softened further, as if my question was ridiculous. “Without or without a ring, I’d marry you.”SixteenCatalinaMy knees hugged his hips as my ankles rested against his ass. Every time he rocked into me, I squeezed him harder, trying to hold on as he entered me, giving me all of him, until his balls tapped my ass.