Gemma captured her plump lower lip between her top two teeth, brow furrowing. “He’s both.”
Seventy-Nine
GRAY
Story was looking out the window like the first time I’d come to her, and I was just as stricken then as I was now. Finally she was wearing her old clothes again—if not better quality.
Soft lace kissed her throat and wrapped around her wrists. White silk flowed over her gingerbread skin. She was a Victorian queen—my fucking queen.
I spent a month trying to think of the perfect way to propose to Snitch.
No ring was good enough for her.
No trinket could ever express my love.
Sonnet made a small sound and Story turned, smiling. Her eyes fell to Sonnet, then to me.
“Hi,” she whispered.
Story took Sonnet, and I wrapped my arms around them both, dragging Story to my chest.
We both looked out the window, not counting the minutes.
At peace.
Sonnet scrunched her nose at the breeze. The world outside was calm, like an old photo picked off the sand. The saltwater air smelled sweeter, the cawing of the seagulls muted and almost melodic.
Story leaned into my chest. “Why did you want to meet me here?”
I kissed the underside of her jaw. “I want you anywhere. But here…” I looked around at our room. “This place is ours, and I couldn’t do it anywhere else.”
She turned around in my embrace. She lightly fingered the green pocket square I’d stuffed into my suit. “You still have this?”
It was wrinkled, stained with blood, but yeah. I wasn’t about to throw it out.
“Grayson, I…” Her brow caved, and she held out Sonnet. “I don’t know if I can do this holding her.”
I pulled her into my arms. “Do what?”
“I’ve spent a month trying to think of the best way to do this… Everything feels so…underwhelming.” Her wide eyes met mine, pleading. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry this isn’t epic. I’m sorry it’s so much less than you deserve. I wanted to light the sky on fire for you. But each day, every idea felt worse. And I can’t go another fucking day waiting…so…”
My heart pounded with the sadness in her eyes, the hopelessness.
I was ready to tear apart whoever made her look like that.
“Snitch?”
Suddenly she dropped to her knees, hand holding mine.
My heart pounded. “What are you doing?”
She smiled at me, beautiful, white, and bright. “I’ve been thinking about my uncle’s wish a lot. His wish was for mine to come true…and it did. My wish was you. My wish was her. My wish was family. I know he wanted me to leave Crowne Hall, but that was because he never saw what you made it. My uncle loved you. He saw you before I did. He always used to say you were a sweet boy who was forced to grow thorns.” She swallowed, tea
rs marbling her eyes. “You ripped out the thorns vining Crowne Hall. You made this place beautiful and bright again. I think he would be more than happy, I think he would be proud. Grayson Crowne, will you marry me?”
I exhaled.
Fuck.