Her free hand reaches over and clamps down on my forearm. “Oh my God.” Her gaze fixes on mine. “Xavier…”
I’m standing on the edge of a cliff, but I wait semipatiently for her answer.
She surprises me by falling out of her seat to throw her arms around my neck, bringing a little relief.
Still holding the ring, I wrap her in my arms, slide onto the seat, and pull her into my lap. “Is that a yes?”
She laughs and kisses me and laughs some more. Then she looks me right in the eye. “Yes,” she finally says. “I can’t wait to marry you.”
The dam breaks, and relief and joy and love deeper than I ever imagined floods in. We kiss and hug and kiss some more before I can even get her to look at the ring again.
“Where did you get a pink velvet box?” she asks. “I’ve never seen one.”
“Me either.” I take the ring from the box. “When they gave it to me in a black box, I have no idea why, but I asked if they had any other colors, and she pulled out this one, said it was a fluke they got in their last order, the only pink one in the lot. And I know you like pink, so…”
I shrug, then slide the ring on her finger. I thought this moment would scare the crap out of me. Instead, it fills all my empty spaces. It completes me.
“If you want something different, we can take it back and—”
She fists her hand and jerks it away with a gasp. “Don’t you dare try to get this ring off my finger.” Then she holds her hand out, admiring the diamond in the moonlight again, and grins as she wraps her arms around my neck. “At least not for a hundred years or so.”
I laugh, pull her close, savor all the emotions I’d begun to believe I wasn’t capable of. I frame her beautiful face before kissing her again. “I guess a hundred years will do.”