Calder Storm (Calder Saga 10)

In answer, he

caught hold of her hand and pressed a kiss in its palm, then lifted his head to claim her gaze. “I do understand, and that isn’t what I was going to ask you.”

“You weren’t?” she said in surprise. “Then what?”

“Marry me.” It was more of a statement than a question, yet Trey waited for her answer, watching the chase of emotions across her face—disbelief, delight, and, ultimately, doubt.

“It’s so soon, Trey,” she began.

“For you, maybe. But not for me. I want you to be my wife. A week from now, a month from now, a year from now isn’t going to change that.” With no hesitation, he reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a diamond ring. “This belonged to my grandmother, Maggie O’Rourke Calder. I think it’s right that my wife wear it.”

The ring was a snug fit; he had to work a little to slip it on her finger. Not a sound came from Sloan the whole time. But the moonlight showed him the tears that shimmered in her eyes. Love was like a tight ache in his chest.

“Those better be happy tears.” There was a huskiness in his voice that hadn’t been there before as he experienced the first flicker of uncertainty about her answer.

With a sound that fell somewhere between a laugh and sob, she flung her slim arms around his neck. In the next breath, her lips were all over his, breathing their sweetness into his mouth while she murmured over and over again, “Yes, yes, yes.”

He crushed her to him, driven by the need to bind her close and claim what she had given him. Blood hammered hot and fast through him. When he finally lifted his head, he was trembling with the powerful force of his feelings.

“I love you so damned much.” There was a disturbed heaviness to his breathing and a thick-lidded passion in his dark eyes.

Sloan thrilled to both of them. “And I love you. I never thought I could feel this happy, but I do,” she murmured, then mused idly, “Sloan Calder. I like the sound of that.”

“So do I.” He stole another kiss. “I hope you aren’t planning on a long engagement.”

“Until two minutes ago, an engagement wasn’t anywhere in my plans.” Her eyes sparkled as brightly as the diamond in her ring.

Trey studied her upturned face. “And now that it is?”

“No longer than necessary, I suppose,” Sloan said with a vague shrug, then fired a sharp glance at him, a touch of worry showing. “The wedding. We don’t have to have a big one, do we?”

“Not as far as I’m concerned.” He bent his head and nibbled her neck, breathing in the fresh scent of her skin. “In fact,” Trey murmured near her ear, “it’s become something of a tradition that the ceremony takes place here at The Homestead in the den. It’s where all the Calders have been married since the Triple C came into existence.”

The single exception was his father’s first marriage to Tara that eventually ended in divorce, but Trey didn’t bother to mention that.

Sloan agreed readily. “It sounds simple, and that suits me just fine.”

“Are you sure?” At the moment he would have roped the moon and hauled it out of the sky if that was what she wanted.

“Positive.” She nodded once in emphasis. “After all, what would be the point of having a big, lavish affair? I don’t have any family, and there is only a handful of friends that I would even invite.” She paused, her gaze straying toward the house. “What will your family think when we tell them? We’ve barely known each other a week.”

“Why don’t we find out?” Trey suggested.

“Now?” Sloan questioned in surprise.

“Can you think of a better time?” Trey smiled in challenge and steered her toward the front door.

Nerves. Her stomach fluttered with them the instant she set foot inside the house. Until that moment Sloan hadn’t realized how very much she wanted the approval and acceptance of Trey’s family. Yet, even if they were withheld, she didn’t regret the decision she had made.

The minute they walked into the living room where everyone had gathered, they were the center of attention. Laredo was the first to acknowledge their presence.

“That has to be the shortest walk on record,” he remarked dryly.

Chase looked straight at Sloan’s left hand, then lifted his gaze to Trey, a warm smile creasing his leathery face. “I see you talked her into it. Congratulations.”

“What are you talking about, Dad?” Cat frowned. But Jessy didn’t have to ask. She saw the proud, possessive way her son looked at the girl. An emotion as old as time made a brilliant light in his dark eyes. And she remembered when his father had once gazed at her in that same way.

“Sloan has agreed to marry me,” Trey announced without taking his eyes off her.