He leans over and kisses me, his lips soft but urgent, and I drop my bag. It topples down the stairs and crashes against the ground. The sound jerks me back to reality and I glance down at the resultant mess. My clothing spewed out all over the floor, and I breathe a sigh of relief that his garage floor is so clean. But I wish my pink lacy bra wasn’t lying on top of a heap of beach gear.
“That is so not how I thought I’d see your undies for the first time,” Trig says.
I swat his arm, and he catches my hand. “But I do want to see them. And the rest of you, every single day.” He drops down to one knee, in the middle of the garage. “Marry me, Geo. Shine with me forever.”
I splutter.
He loves me. He wants to marry me?
It’s way too much, way too fast.
But I think about what I’ve learned about Trig. He adores his sister. He finds companies and props them up, working with them to succeed. He’s best friends with Luke, who from what I can tell is one of the truly good men out there. He detests the miserable marriage his parents have. He met my mom, and now, after seeing me with a sprained knee, after seeing my tiny condo, and going with me to deliver a pathetic peach cobbler to my sometimes-there mother, now he’s proposing.
In Hawaii.
I’d be a moron to say no. So I surprise myself by saying, “Yes.”
“Really?” He laughs, but it’s not a mocking laugh. It sounds like sunshine pouring out of his mouth. He swings me in a circle and sets me down, but keeps his hands around my waist. “Let’s not wait. I don’t want a long engagement. I want to marry you soon. Tomorrow even.”
I laugh this time. “Maybe not tomorrow, but I don’t want a long engagement either.”
He leans down until our foreheads press together. “Next week.”
I look up at him. “I’d like time to pick a dress and prepare my mom.”
He closes his eyes. “Of course. While you’re doing that, can we figure out how to keep my mom in the dark? Because she’s sure to wreck this if she possibly can.”
I roll my eyes. “I’ve dealt with some mothers-in-law in the past. I’m sure I can handle yours.”
“Fine, fine. No rush then. I know this part isn’t about me, but you should know that I’m excited. And this is sudden, I know, but it feels right to me. So right. Maybe the first really right thing I’ve done since starting Nometry.”
“It feels right to me too.” I actually mean it. I don’t feel any panic, just a sense of baffling peace. As though I’m finally doing what I should have been for a long time.
The door separating the garage and the front door opens without warning and I almost follow my suitcase to the floor of the garage. Trig’s big hand clasps my forearm, steadying me at his side.
“Mr. Thornton?” a woman in a white apron asks. “The caterers will be here any minute.”
Trig stands up and takes my hand in his. “Bonnie, you’re the very first person we get to tell.”
She frowns. “Tell what? Do we not need food for twenty? Because if so, I should call my cousin right now.”
He laughs. “No, I think the meeting is still on.” He glances my way. “Is it?”
I nod.
“But you’re the first person I am telling that I’m engaged to marry this superwoman, here. Bonnie, meet Geo.”
Bonnie’s eyes widen. “Congratulations, sir. That’s the best news I’ve heard in months.”
A white van pulls up behind us.
“We better get things ready,” I say. “You’ve got a lot of people coming, and soon.”
Trig beams at me, and then proceeds to tell every single person, starting with the caterer and house staff and continuing with the men from the venture he’s investigating. His enthusiasm only grows, if anything. I stick around for the dinner portion of the meeting, but after that, I beg off and drag my luggage into one of the guest rooms. We may be engaged, but I don’t want to be presumptuous.
I call Paisley, who screams into the phone for a full minute before I can understand a word she says.
“I am so happy for you,” she finally manages to say. “This is the best news I’ve ever heard in my entire life. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I love Mary, and Luke is great, but Geo, oh my goodness! I am just so!” More incomprehensible screaming.
I hold the phone away from my ear until it abates a little bit.
“Pais,” I finally say. “Pais. I can’t understand a thing you’re saying.”
“Sorry,” she says. “But could this be more of a fairy tale? You have this epic love story that ends with unbelievable heartbreak, and you completely go hide in a tower. Then you finally let your hair down and you meet a gorgeous GAZILLIONAIRE!”
“How do you know he’s gorgeous?” I ask.
“I have the internet, duh. I googled what he looked like twelve seconds after you told me he met you for lunch.”
I love Paisley, but I know her too. “You knew before that.”
She sighs. “Fine, I knew before that. I’ve followed him for a few years. There aren’t very many hot billionaires out there, okay?”
“Since when do you care whether a guy’s loaded?”
“I can’t marry anyone who isn’t mega rich,” she says. “My mom and dad would never allow it.”
Paisley searches her car seat cushions for change almost every time we go to lunch. She’s my one friend who’s actually poorer than me.
“Whatever,” I say.
“But seriously, you’re engaged. I just can’t even wrap my brain around it. Is the ring like a hundred and fifty carats? Did he hire someone to walk around and hold your hand up? Why haven’t you sent me a photo yet?”
“I might need to hire someone to answer all your questions.”
Paisley laughs. “You can answer in order. I’ll wait.”
I snort. “You are ridiculous. He proposed a few hours ago, about five minutes before a huge meeting started here at his house. I don’t think he planned to propose, so I don’t even have a ring yet.”
“Well that’s crap.”
I giggle. “I’ll be sure to send you a photo the second it’s on my finger. And I’ll make sure he gets one big enough that we need to hire a ring holding lackey.”
“Mock me if you want, but the struggle is real. I haven’t had a decent date in over a month. Some of us are living vicariously here, and you’re expecting me to subsist on wafers here.”
Oh Pais. “Your happily ever after is out there. I know it. Be patient.”
“After this, my hope is restored,” she says. “In all seriousness G, I am so so happy for you. Like I know you think I’m dumb, but I am totally crying right now. More than I cried during Me Before You.”
“I’m glad my actual engagement rates higher than a fictional tale. And one with a horrible, terrible ending, I might add.”
“No, don’t say that. You know how much I love that movie. She changed his life, and then she lost him. He loved her too much to hold her back.”
I roll my eyes, which is a complete waste because she can’t even see it. “I can’t get into this with you again. Agree to disagree. But I love you, Pais.”
“Love you too, G. Call me tomorrow. For reals. And photos, so many photos, I absolutely insist.”
I change into the silk nightgown I brought and slide under the covers. Sometime after ten p.m. local time I fall asleep, a smile on my face.
18
Trig
Between the early morning flight and the time change, by the time my meeting ends, my brand new fiancé is fast asleep. In one of the guest rooms. I’m not sure what that means, so I give her space. I finally drift off myself, way later than I imagined I would, but when the first of the sun’s rays hit my face, I wake up smiling.
When I peek in this morning, her face looks even more angelic than usual. I pull out my phone to check the time, and it’s early. Like, seagulls are my only companions early. I tiptoe into the family room so I won’t wake up Geo.
I notice that Brekka te
xted me late last night. HOW’D THE MEETING GO?
I told everyone I met yesterday about our engagement, but I haven’t mentioned it to family or friends yet, and I’m not sure whether to wait and tell them in person, or call now. It’s strange I haven’t called Brekka already, honestly. She usually knows everything about me before I do.
I’m probably still mad she told Mom about Geo. Which is a lousy reason not to tell her my happy news. Withholding information from my mom is like stonewalling the Gestapo. It’s only a matter of time before Mom pries the info she wants loose, so you may as well spare yourself the finger screws and water torture.
I pull out my phone and text Brekka back.
IF YOU’RE AWAKE, I HAVE SOME NEWS.
Immediate response. MEETINGS WENT WELL? I SAW THE PROPOSAL THEY SENT. IT’S TOO BAD ABOUT SAN FRAN, BUT WE DON’T REALLY NEED TO ADD TWO IN THE SAME WEEK.
NEWS ABOUT GEO.
My phone rings three seconds later.
“You slept with her!” Brekka practically cheers. “And?”
I choke. “When have I ever called you about something like that? Gross! What is wrong with you?”
“What other news is there? Did she dump you? Because you could have texted me that in like three words, B.”
I sigh. Why do all the women in my life talk so much I can’t get a word in edgewise? “I proposed.”
Complete silence.
“Brekka?” I walk outside in case the reception’s bad. “Are you there?”
“I’m here.”
“Uh. This is where you tell me how excited you are.”
“You screwed this up,” she says.
I grunt. “That’s rude. Besides, you aren’t even here, so how could you possibly know?”
“Where did you propose?”
“What does that have to do with anything?” I ask.
“What does the ring look like?”
“Stop,” I say. “You’re not supposed to be grilling me. You’re supposed to be congratulating me. Unlike Mom, you’ve been shoving me at every woman under forty for years. I finally found one, a girl you actually adore, and I proposed. She said yes by the way, and you think I screwed up? I ought to hang up on you. You obviously woke up too early and you’re cranky.”
“Where did you propose, B? Were you lying in bed? Or on a plane? Or had some guy just hit on her and you were jealous? Because contrary to pop lyrics that may teach you otherwise, when you’re dating a quality girl, you don’t have to ‘put a ring on it’ to make sure you don’t lose her. It’s been a week.”
I wish she could see my scowl. “A week and two days.”
“You sound like a toddler right now. Where did you propose?”
I grunt.
“The longer you fail to answer me, the worse my imagination conjures the scene to be. Please tell me she’s not secretly a foreigner. Because if she needs to get married to stay in America, I am hanging up on you right now.”
I laugh then. “No, nothing like that. Look, I was standing in the garage of our house in Kauai, okay, and that doesn’t sound super romantic when I say it out loud, but she had just dropped her bag and you know what? You weren’t there. You don’t get it. For the first time, I want to be with someone every single day. I want to wake up and see her face in the morning and go to bed at night and guess what? We haven’t even had sex. So there.”
“Umm, you’re saying that like it will convince me this is a good idea.”
“It’s clearly not about lust,” I say. “That’s my point.”
“So you’re waiting until the wedding?” The incredulity practically seeps through the phone.
“I didn’t say that, but if she wants to, I would. Look. The point here is, I love her and she loves me back. I really didn’t expect to be having this conversation with you.”
“I’m assuming you didn’t get her a ring,” Brekka says. “And if this is for real, you better do that quick. And don’t take her to pick one. That’s lame, and knowing her the small amount I do, I can tell you she will pick something tiny because she’s uncomfortable with wealth. Get her something now, and make it nice enough that it’s obvious to everyone you love her.”
I sigh. “It’s six twelve a.m.”
“You know how to get things done. Track down the owner of some place and wake him or her up. They’ll come in early with a goldsmith for a ten carat diamond.”
I did buy a bracelet from a local shop for Brekka last Christmas. I think the owner scrawled his number on the invoice in case I ever wanted another custom order. Could I call him at six a.m.? I think about surprising Geo with a ring when she wakes up.
Sure, I can call him.
It takes me twenty minutes to dig through all the junk from the cloud for last year’s taxes, but there it is. The invoice. With a number.
An hour and forty minutes later, I’m headed back to my house. The owner of Van Balen Fine Jewelry, Pete Fisher, can send his kids to whatever ivy league school he wants after my morning interruption. He insisted on saving his number in my phone before I left. I guess I don’t blame him since he just sold me a string of Tahitian pearls, a canary yellow diamond bracelet, and an eleven carat oval solitaire engagement ring with tiny blue sapphires on either side that I think exactly match Geo’s eyes.
I might have gotten carried away. I don’t buy much jewelry, but I doubt Geo has anything nice, and I got a little excited.
When I open the door from the garage, the bag with the jewelry boxes inside clutched in one hand, I smell bacon. Which means I missed my chance to wake her up with a second, better-phrased proposal.
As beautiful as Geo looked asleep, she looks even more breathtaking in a cotton print sundress covered in daisies and leather sandals. She’s singing a pop song while she cooks eggs in a pan and I stop in my tracks. She sounds like Celine Dion. Brekka might be right. I barely know her. But every single new thing I discover makes me love her more.
She turns around to grab a bag of grated cheese and freezes. When her eyes meet mine, a shiver of excitement runs up my spine. I cross the room in five steps and throw my bag on the counter, shoving the food over in the process. I wrap my arms around my future wife and pull her tightly to my chest. There’s nothing slow about my actions this morning. My head drops down to hers and captures her lips in one smooth movement.
She gasps against me and wraps her hands around the back of my head, pulling me even closer. I kiss her urgently, little nips against her mouth, and then longer, deeper. Until she shoves against my chest and breaks away.
“What?” My heart accelerates. What did I do wrong?
She groans. “The eggs.”
Smoke billows from the pan on the stove.
I scrunch up my nose. “Whoops?”
She shuts off the stove and leans back against the counter. “So much for impressing you with my cooking.”
I grin. “We may not have gone about any of this in a typical way, but believe me. I’m impressed.”
The side of her mouth curves up. “I’ve only known you for a little over a week, so I still get a little nervous when you walk in the room. I’m trying to show off for you this morning, and I’m not ready to let you see me without makeup. Are we being stupid?”
“If we are,” I say, “it’s not just you. I’m all in, G. In fact, maybe you’re wondering where I was so early this morning.”
“I did wonder.” She bites her lip. “But I tried not to worry you panicked and freaked out and went to a hotel or something.”
I can’t look away from her eyes, so open, so vulnerable, so caring, but I need to get the ring. I fumble around behind me and knock my bag sideways. My hand bumps around until I feel the ring box and I pull on it behind my back.
“Brekka says I screwed this all up last night. But I believe in second chances.” I drop to one knee. “I’m sure that I’ve done a lot of things wrong this week. Like stalking you on your Macaroni Grill night.”
Her lips curve all the way into a smile. “I thought that se
emed too coincidental.”
“Of course it was me. Paul’s clueless. I had to scope out my competition.”
“How’d you know which location?”
I sigh. “Paul gets credit for that. He was too lazy to go to the one I suggested. Maybe that means fate wanted us together.”
She reaches for me, but I’m not ready to stand up yet.
“No, let me get this right. I have to report back to Brekka, you know.”
“I’d never dream of interfering with that. I don’t want you to lose your job, after all.”
I frown. “We’re equal partners, but I’m older than her. And when we started the firm, she was a freshman in college. That means if anything, I’m her boss.”
“Uh huh.” She shrugs. “If you say so.”
“Stop talking so I can propose to you, woman.”
She air zips her lips in mock solemnity.
“Like I was saying back before my knee started to hurt on this stone floor, I’ve done a prodigious amount of screwing up in one week. I imagine I’ll cram in even more mistakes in the next fifty or sixty years, but I hope you’ll take the time to correct and forgive me, and I’ll try not to make the same mistake more than four or five times.”
“What a reassuring promise.”
“Geode Polson, will you marry me? Please?”
She looks sideways and says, “Hmm. Well. Let me think.”
“My knee! Think of my poor knee.”
She reaches one hand down to cup my face. “Bernard Thornton the third, yes. I will marry you, in spite of your old man knees.” She grabs my collar with both hands and pulls me up to her. I don’t waste any time kissing my fiancé. She tastes like strawberries.
Which reminds me of the eggs, which interrupted our last kiss. And now here I am, distracted again. I’ve got one more step I need to complete.
I pull back a bit and open the ring box. “I was out this morning trying to find a sapphire that exactly matched your eyes.” I hold the ring up next to her face. “I got close, but it’s not quite right. I hope you’ll let that slide. Honestly, I’m not sure any rock can compare to that pigment.”
Finding Cupid (Almost a Billionaire Book 2) Page 19
