“I can’t let you do that, Bear.” I shook my head firmly.
“I want to. Besides, what’s mine is yours, sweetheart. That includes my money. Please, there’s so much of it, I won’t be able to spend it all in my lifetime. Might as well spend it on something wonderful.”
“But it’ll take quite a while for me to sew enough dresses to fill a storefront.”
“So hire help,” he shrugged.
“Bear!”
“What? New York is full of excellent seamstresses more than happy to work for the next up and coming designer.”
“You flatter me,” I’d said. I couldn’t help smiling.
He’d kissed me for hours after that and the next day, he’d acted like it was settled. A done deal. I’d open a store, and that was that.
My mind had a hard time accepting that as reality. Hell, I was almost more intimidated about opening my own place than I was the hotel job. This was my baby. This was real. It mattered even more if I fucked it up. The silent thrill that ran through me when I thought about it wouldn’t let up, though, and eventually, I just went along with it and stopped protesting.
This was the year of saying yes, right?
When in the world would I ever have an opportunity like this again?
There was only one thing I was hesitant about, and it was huge. I didn’t really want my career tied up in Bear’s money. What if something happened and we broke up? I made a vow to keep meticulous records and pay back every penny. I didn’t tell him that, because I knew he would dismiss it, but I promised myself and that was enough for now.
Everything seemed to be working out so well. Actually, that was an understatement. Bear and this life was a fairytale come true, there was no other way to describe it.
I’d never believed in fairytales before. I’d poured over all those romance novels for years, never believing for a second that love like that really existed, that men like Bear existed, that lives like this existed.
I’d been proven so wrong. Bear had made my toes curl so many times by now that I was pretty sure they’d never uncurl again.
Chapter 5
“To our island,” Bear said, holding up a champagne filled goblet and clinking the edge against mine. We’d decided to go all out for our last night there and gotten dressed up. I was wearing a long, backless, black maxi-dress with a tropical floral print on it. The halter top accentuated the curves of my breasts and I felt sexy and voluptuous in it. My hair flowed down my back in soft waves. The look in Bear’s eyes when I’d walked out of the bedroom held a familiar darkness that I’d not seen since we’d been here. A spark of anticipation flashed deep inside of me and I knew it was going to be a wonderful night.
We’d built a fire on the beach and sat next to it together on a blanket, watching the sun set in the distance, pink and purple streaks fading to orange, casting a warm glow over the beach until it disappeared into a stunning darkness glittering with sparkling diamonds.
“To our island,” I repeated, “to us!”
“Yes, to us, to our future, to the beautiful life we’re going to have together,” he said. We sipped from our glasses, our eyes meeting over the rims of the goblets. I’d gotten so used to being alone with him that the thought of sharing him with the world again was something I wasn’t quite ready for. I was so grateful we had one more night alone together.
He looked incredibly handsome in his clothes. We’d hardly dressed the entire week and it was nice to see him all dressed up for me. He wore a white linen button down shirt and a pair of matching linen trousers, we were both barefoot. He’d slicked his hair back, making it appear even darker. The deep blue-black contrasted starkly against the white of his clothes, the stars twinkling overhead reflected in his shimmering blue eyes.
Gazing at him had become my favorite past time.
I reached up and touched the choker I’d worn every day since he’d proposed. He’d not said a word about it since and neither had I, but I’d worn it without hesitation, dutifully fastening it back around my neck after every shower.
He saw me fingering it now and gazed back up at me.
“Is it uncomfortable?” he asked.
“No, not at all,” I replied, smiling at him.
“That’s good. You know you have to wear it in the city, too, right?” he asked, his voice a low whisper.
“Yes,” I said. “I know.”
“I want everyone to know you’re mine.”
“Why?” I asked.
He looked at me thoughtfully a moment, his eyes searching mine.
“Because I’m proud of you,” he said.
I nodded, not wanting to press him further, even though I didn’t fully understand. I wanted to. I was flattered and I wanted everyone to know he was mine, too, but I didn’t see how doing it this way was important.
“What will it be like, when we get home?” I asked.
“Like it was before,” he said. “Nothing needs to change. Not right away. Take whatever time you need, Chloe. You can keep your apartment, focus on your store. Or, you can move in with me, if you want.”
“I think we should go slow,” I said.
“What?” he said, the corners of his eyes wrinkling in a smile. “Do you think we’re moving too fast?”
“We’re engaged and I haven’t even told my mother about you yet,” I laughed.
“Ah, yes, Matilda. I have a feeling Matilda might be a little surprised, but she’ll warm up to the idea eventually. She loves me,” he shrugged.
“She’s going to be shocked,” I said. “I’ll probably never hear the end of it. She’ll accuse me of sabotaging her career, or something. Oh, God,” I said, the idea dawning on me for the first time. “Please don’t fire my mom if we ever break up.”
“Break up?” he said, shaking his head. “Never going to happen.”
“Never say never,” I said. “Famous last words and all of that…”
“Fuck that,” he said, pulling me into his lap. “I’m never letting you go, Chloe, no matter what.”
“You sound so certain,” I said, wrapping my arms around his neck.
“I’ve never been more certain of anything in my life. I’ll tell you a little story. I mentioned before that my parents forced me to learn how to play the trombone, right?”
“Yes,” I nodded, trying not to laugh at the vision in my head of Bear blowing into a huge trombone.
“Right. Well, at first I hated it. But after being forced to do it over and over again, I started to dig it a little. I learned a little more and after a while, I got better and better. My dad was real big on never quitting anything you started and those times that I grew tired of it, he pressed me to keep going. I was a huge nerd back then and didn’t really have a social life of any sort, so at some point, I really dove in to learning the instrument. I made that damned trombone my life, I learned everything there was to know about it.”
“That’s awesome,” I replied, imagi
ng him as a young boy pouring over sheet music, the loud honking sounds filling his house. “So what happened? You mentioned before you never wanted to see a trombone again.”
“I grew out of it eventually, but there were a few years there where I was obsessed with it. And by obsessed, I mean I embraced that S-shaped brass instrument like it was a part of me. I carried it everywhere, I learned everything there was to know about it. For instance,” he said, cocking his head, “did you know it was originally called a ‘sackbut’?”
I giggled and shook my head.
“Nope, didn’t know that!”
“Not many do!” he said, arching a brow. “So, I was in the school band, of course.”
“You were a nerd, of course you were.”
“It’s true,” he said, nodding his sexy head. “My band teacher was like a second father to me. I practically lived in the band room.” A big smile spread across his face. “I’ll never forget him. His named was Mr. Petty and he was this big, furry gay Jewish guy who could play every instrument under the sun and he sang like an angel.”
“He sounds great,” I said.
“He was. Just fantastic, really. He was the exact opposite of my dad and just what I needed at the time. Anyway, he told me about this competition. A trombone competition! Bet you didn’t know those existed, did you?”
“Nope,” I laughed.
“Not many do!” he winked. He was so fucking cute I wanted to kiss him right there, but his story was adorable and I loved hearing him talk about himself. He didn’t open up too often about his past. I got the sense there wasn’t a lot of good stuff to talk about and the bad stuff, well…we both seemed to want to keep that at bay. Everything felt so good, he seemed to be relishing in it as much as I was.
“Keep going!” I said, hungry for him. I wanted to crawl inside of his mind, inside of his heart, I wanted to feel what he felt and know him as deeply as I could. But I couldn’t do that. His words are the only window I have.
“Well, me, being the obsessed freak and the only one in the entire band that knew that the Trombone was first spotted in literature as far back as 1478 in Spain and the only one who could play it with precision, Mr. Petty decided I need to go represent the school.”