The Bachelor's Perfect Proposal (Bliss Series Book 2)

by Michelle Jo Quinn

I chuckled and patted her hands. “Love brings both the greatest delicacies and the most sensitive misfortunes in life. Wise old saying, Onna. Is that from experience?”

  She tutted and shook a dainty finger at me. “I told you not to call me that! Onna…you make me sound so old.” Then she kissed the top of my head. “I worry about you.”

  “You shouldn’t. There is a fine, young woman who’s taking great care of me these days.” I patted her hands again, and held them in my own, making her look me straight in the eye so that she could understand the seriousness of what I was about to say. “I’m not coming back to live here again and take over. I’m doing well on my own. You should quit hoping.”

  “We’ll see, Olivier, we shall see.” Martina never liked not getting her way.

  I worried about her and how the pitfalls of her age had started to show more and more these past years. She’d been expressing her desire to have me back in Bordeaux a lot lately, and I’d agonized over it. If all I would come back to were this vineyard and Martina, I’d have done it years ago. But my family had as much drama as an American soap opera, and more complications as well. I realized that one day soon, Veronica would ask more about my family here in France.

  I’d only shared the fundamentals, those that couldn’t hurt us.

  Veronica might be a levelheaded, patient, and understanding woman, but my family was beyond reproachful. My intentions were, and had always been, to be with her as long as I possibly could. Exposing her to my family would be detrimental to that plan.

  No, no way in hell would she ever come here and meet them, not even Martina, the only trustworthy person in my family.

  * * *

  Veronica had left a lamp on in the living room, illuminating a good portion of her apartment when I came in. I wished she would listen and let me get her a dog, something vicious-looking that could rip through flesh. Or she could move in with me sooner rather than later.

  Tired from my travels, I groaned. I slipped the box out of my jacket pocket and lifted the lid. The three-point-five karat, off-white rock glimmered even in the sparse light. I would have to have it cleaned before presenting it to her so she could appreciate the filigree designs on the band. It was beautiful. It was delicate. It was one of a kind, much like Veronica, amour de ma vie. Love of my life. And once she said ‘yes’, I could have our initials engraved inside the band, right beside Martina’s and Philippe’s.

  I didn’t take a lot of stock on family traditions. Veronica would more than appreciate the simple yet elegant designs of the ring. But since it came from Martina, it meant more to me. It was my family’s ring. My ring on Veronica. Her wearing it would solidify our relationship. It would mean she’d be mine for as long as she’d have me. And I intended to have her in my life forever.

  I returned the ring to the box and left it in my coat pocket. Veronica wasn’t the type to go snooping around. It would be safe in there, and the surprise would be kept.

  I had a lot of planning to do. How could one propose to the most romantic, most thoughtful and loving woman in the world? If I had been another person, I would have hired her to come up with a plan with me. I laughed at myself. That would be something to tell our children: “I tricked your mother to helping me plan my proposal for her.” It would require a lot of thought every step of the way. It needed to be perfect, a gesture so grand she couldn’t say no.

  I padded to the bedroom. After undressing, I crawled into bed and felt her stir, aware of my presence. It was a connection we shared. Circling my arms around her, I brought her closer to me, and she moved into the curve I’d created with my body, where she fit perfectly. Where she belonged.

  Burying my nose in her curls, her scent ignited my nerves. Her chest rose and fell, and her heart beat steadily, such a contrast to the faster beating of mine. I should let her sleep.

  Veronica muttered my name. I missed her. Every minute I’d been away from her had been spent thinking about her. Of her body against mine. Of the different sensations that only she could make me feel. The passion. The fire. The undeniable love.

  Her fingers tangled with mine, and our joined hands pressed against her chest. She lifted one leg and wrapped it around mine underneath the sheets, bringing me even closer to her. I was feverish, keenly aflame. I breathed her in once more, kissing the delicate skin behind her ear, and felt the electricity surge, flowing from me to her and her to me.

  “Welcome back home,” she whispered in the dark.

  Home. The word had taken a different meaning, a different form ever since she had told me she loved me. Home had always been nothing but a physical location for me in the past. With her, home was where I left my heart. And my heart belonged to her.

  Without her, I was lost.

  In that moment, as I kissed the pulse on her neck, her hands bringing me closer, I knew without a doubt that I had made the right decision of asking Martina for the ring. All I had to do was come up with the perfect proposal and when Veronica agreed, I would forevermore be the luckiest man on earth. I would forevermore be home. And I would forevermore be loved.

  Le Témoin du Marié

  Half-dazed, I searched for Veronica, reaching a hand over her part of the bed. When my hands touched cold sheets, my eyes popped open. I turned on my back and looked around the room.

  The sun filtered through the windows and a soft wind ruffled the floral curtains. On one side of the room, the en suite bathroom door was wide open, meaning Veronica had finished showering and dressing for work. Had I missed her? She could be as quiet as a thief in the night when getting ready in the mornings. Pushing the quilt off me, I swung my legs over the bed and padded out of the bedroom, rubbing a hand over my face.

  She was still in the apartment, in the kitchen, already dressed for work. I paused at the threshold as Veronica swore at the espresso machine I’d brought over the week before. The fact that she was making coffee instead of tea meant she was exhausted, too. I almost regretted that I had woken her up when I came home. Almost.

  I approached her from behind, letting my hands wander over her curves, and tasting the fragrance of the exposed skin of her neck and shoulder. “Good morning.”

  Her soft hum rumbled against my chest. She reached a hand up to tangle her fingers through my hair. “Did I wake you? I was trying to be quiet.” She turned around, sucking in a gasp at my lack of clothes and my state of...readiness. Slowly dragging her eyes up to my face, she chewed on her bottom lip, and muttered, “I have to be at work in half an hour.”

  How could I resist? “I’ll try very hard to get you to work on time.”

  “That’s what you said last week, and I came in two hours late.”

  “I said I’ll try,” I murmured before hoisting her up, wrapping her legs around my hips, and supporting her bottom. With a Cheshire–cat grin on my face, I carried her back to bed.

  * * *

  Three hours later, I watched as a black ball bounced on the wall an inch below the outline and flew my way. I waited for the right moment to swing my racket, making contact with the ball right after it hit the floor once.

  As highly competitive individuals, Jake and I could get into serious relays. However, not once had he beat me. At least, not in squash. I wiped sweat off my forehead, readying for another swing. And missed.

  Admittedly, I was out of sorts. I was distracted.

  I grunted, hitting the ball back toward the front wall. It changed trajectory and shot past Jake’s racket, less than an inch away. But a miss was a miss. And it had won me the game.

  “You got lucky,” Jake commented, as we walked to the locker room.

  “If you mean last night, yeah.” I offered him a smirk. “This morning too, if you must know. I might even drop in on her after lunch at work.”

  Jake shook his head, grinning. “I meant that last shot. My hand slipped.” He was always a sore loser. “Although I’m glad to know the honeymoon phase hasn’t ended.”

  “Far from it.” I was proud to say it. Every single day I
’d spent with Veronica had been better than the one before, but something niggled at me. Something I could only describe as doubt and fear.

  I opened my locker door and used a towel to swipe off sweat before taking off my clothes. At first, I didn’t notice Jake staring at me. I paused, securing a large towel over my hips.

  “What?” I challenged.

  “I never thought I’d see the day,” Jake declared, “Olivier Laurent, head over heels in love.”

  We had a unique situation, Jake and I. He’d dated Veronica for a few months. They’d been exclusive, but Veronica had been more serious about it than Jake. If he were any other guy, and not my best friend, I would have swung a left hook for hurting her when they broke up. I also could have been faulted for that since Jake had met Sandrine through me. In my defense, I’d not foreseen Jake falling for Sandrine the second they’d met.

  At any other time, if Jake had admitted to falling in love that fast, I would have laughed at him and told him he’d lost his marbles. But eight months before Jake met Veronica, nearly a year before he and Sandrine had been introduced, I’d discovered that love at first sight existed.

  Or, in my case, love at first bump. And every time I thought of that initial contact with Veronica, my blood pressure would spike.

  But fate was cruel to me, always had been, despite the fact that everyone else thought otherwise. I had trouble—for the first time in my life—trying to connect with Veronica, or at the very least, have her notice me. I’d gone to event after event that she and her company had put together, almost feeling like a stalker.

  Then one night, at yet another event, after a quick handshake with me, Jake had made a beeline for her, and they’d instantly hit it off. It had been painful observing them from afar. I’d tried drowning my sorrows with other women, acting like a complete buffoon around Jake and Veronica as they continued with their relationship.

  All of that came to a stop when he broke it off and began dating my cousin, Sandrine. Veronica had even planned their wedding. During the planning, fate had finally smiled upon me.

  Veronica had fought it, naturally.

  “Are you going to give me an answer today?” Jake’s question pierced through my thoughts.

  “Did you ask me something?”

  Jake laughed. “I asked if you’re joining us at my parents on Thursday night.”

  “Ah, yeah, Thursday, sure.” I scratched the top of my head. “For what again?”

  “What the hell has gotten into you?” Jake laughed again. “I know you’re probably not getting enough rest, but have mercy on Nica. She needs a good dose of sleep.”

  “What? I let her sleep…afterwards,” I protested.

  “Then what the hell has gotten into you?” There was an entertained look on his face, but a second later, it changed into something more serious. “Jesus, Levi, don’t tell me you’re thinking of breaking up with her!” He punched my right arm, though not hard. “You just told me that it was far from over?”

  “No! Shit no! It’s nothing like that.”

  “Then what is it?” Jake leaned forward, and lowered his voice. “Is she pregnant?”

  “No! I don’t think so.” I couldn’t exactly count how many times Veronica and I had made love, but every single time we’d been careful. “That’s not it.”

  Jake spread his hands in front of him, waiting for an explanation.

  I brushed my hair back, and reached into my locker. Jake looked down at the box I’d opened. “You’re getting married?”

  He made a movement that told me he was ready to give me a congratulations bump, but I stopped him. “I haven’t asked her yet, genius.” I snapped the box closed and returned it in my jacket pocket.

  “She’s going to say yes. You can’t think that she won’t.”

  I scratched the stubble on my face. I should shave. Veronica liked it when I shaved, but I also liked the little giggles she would release when a bit of facial hair tickled her.

  “That’s not what I’m worried about,” I confessed, but it felt like a lie.

  “What are you waiting for?”

  My hands flew in the air. “It’s the how.” Jake didn’t seem to understand. As much as he was charming, he wasn’t the most romantic man. I’d had to help him plan his proposal to Sandrine. “It has to be perfect.”

  Jake clapped a hand on my shoulder. “I’m surprised you had it in you, considering everything.” I tried not to think of what he meant by ‘everything’.

  “Ask Sandrine for ideas, or go to Chase. She’d be able to lead you to the right direction.”

  “Chase hates my guts.”

  Jake shrugged. “That’s Chase, though. When it comes to Nica, she’s like an overprotective watchdog, ready to pounce and draw blood.”

  My phone vibrated in my locker. A text message from Martina, asking if I had popped the question yet. (Reading between the lines: have I failed yet?) I shoved the phone back into the locker, slammed the door, and proceeded to the showers.

  * * *

  I walked through the Bliss Event Designers doors and was immediately greeted by Jewel, Veronica’s colleague.

  “She’s in a meeting,” she informed me, waving a hand toward the little square room they dubbed a “conference room”.

  “That’s fine. Can I wait in her office?”

  “Uhm...she has another client waiting there.” Jewel leaned her hands on her small desk. “He’s been waiting for half an hour. I tried to reschedule him, but he was insistent.”

  I glanced at Veronica’s office. The blinds on the windows were not drawn, shielding whoever was inside from me, and the door was closed. I wasn’t thrilled to find out that she’d be alone in her office with another man. Not that I didn’t trust her. I did, implicitly. It was always the other person I couldn’t trust. With a past like mine, it was hard to avoid trust issues.

  “I’ll sit out here then. You don’t mind if I make a few phone calls, do you?” Jewel shook her head. “Thanks, I promise to do it quietly.”

  I took a spot on the comfortable gray couch beside the large window, dropping the paper bag and bouquet of flowers I carried on the glass coffee table in front of me. Before I could go through my contacts, a text message from Veronica appeared on the screen:

  Hey, hot stuff!

  Grinning at the phone, I sent a quick reply:

  Hey yourself, gorgeous. I miss you.

  Peering through my lashes, I spied her looking casual, pretty in her pink floral dress, and unaffected by my text, while she listened to what her client was saying.

  I love that dress on you. What happened to the blue dress from this morning?

  I watched her surreptitiously read my text, reddening at my implication, and typing on her phone under the table:

  Someone wrinkled it. Then he made me late for work AGAIN!

  Rubbing my chin with a hand, I hid my smirk behind my fingers, before I typed back:

  Lucky bastard.

  I waited for another reply but when I looked up, she’d taken over the meeting. Instead of making phone calls, I replied to emails that had been waiting for me.

  Five minutes later, Chase, Veronica, and their clients stepped out of the conference room. Veronica bade them farewell and walked them to the door before standing before me. She bent down and placed a quick kiss on my lips. Her lips tasted like honey.

  “I brought you lunch.” I pointed at the table.

  Veronica looked over her shoulder, turned around and picked up the flowers, pressing the peonies to her nose. “And flowers! How romantic. Your mother taught you well.” I smiled at her. It was a simple gesture that I didn’t learn from my mother, nor from my father. My mother had constantly stated that there wasn’t a romantic bone in my father…at least not toward her. He had shown all of that to women he’d cheated with.

  “Thank you for lunch, but I have another meeting,” she said, pointing at her closed office door. “Can you wait in the kitchen? I’ll try to keep it short.”

  I stood
, nodding. “I’m in no rush. The food will keep.”

  “Great,” Veronica said as she sauntered to her office. The sway of her hips mesmerized me. I could never get enough of watching her.

  * * *

  I was seated on one of the four stools in the kitchen, reading the local paper, when Chase walked in.

  The ring was in my pocket, and I patted it for reassurance. Checking to see that Veronica hadn’t emerged from her office, I cleared my throat and talked to her best friend. “Chase, I was wondering if you have a moment to spare?”

  She didn’t pause or make a sound while she stirred sugar into her coffee.

  I tried again. “It doesn’t have to be today. But sometime soon.” That, somehow, went through to her.

  “Whatever cockamamie plan you have, I don’t want any part of it.” I opened my mouth to protest but she continued, “Her birthday is not for another three months. And there aren’t any major holidays coming up. So whatever it is, keep me out of it.”

  “Please, it’s important.”

  Chase took a deep breath in, and looked up to the ceiling as though she had run out of patience. She turned to face me, cleared the two steps to the bar-height table I was seated at, and pointed an accusatory finger at me. “I should have said this before but I didn’t because I kept a promise to Nica. But enough is enough.” She narrowed her eyes at me and leaned even closer. “I don’t like you. I don’t trust you. You are Jake’s best friend, and look what he did to Nica. I am not going to let you destroy the best person I know. If you hurt her--”

  “I’m going to ask her to marry me.”

  She stepped back, as though I’d pushed her with my words. She twisted her lips, and confusion colored her face. “You what?”

  Veronica’s unmistakable, infectious laugh came from the front of the office. Her office door was ajar but she hadn’t stepped out yet.

  As fast as I could, I told Chase, “I can’t talk about it now, but I will need your help, please. “

  Chase narrowed her eyes at me again, studying me with speculation. “Fine. I’ll send you a text tomorrow.”