by April Wilson
Once out of the bathroom, Beth slips on her undergarments, then dons a pair of shorts and a short-sleeved shirt. Since we’re going casual today, I pull on a pair of cargo shorts, a T-shirt, and sneakers.
Walking into the kitchen, we find Cooper seated at the breakfast bar drinking coffee and reading a book on his tablet.
“It’s about time,” he says, setting down his cup. “I was about to send out a search party.” Cooper points to the plates of food warming on the stove. “There’s your breakfast.”
I pat him on the shoulder. “Thanks, man.”
No matter how many times I’ve told him he’s not here to cook for us, or wait on us, he can’t help himself. He’s a natural born caretaker at heart. He loves to cook. He loves to fuss over Beth. I wish the guy would settle down with someone because he’d make a fantastic partner – if only he’d just let loose and allow it to happen.
Beth and I take our usual seats at the breakfast bar to enjoy our hot food and coffee. Cooper made pancakes this morning – Beth’s favorite.
After finishing her breakfast, Beth gets up and hugs Cooper fiercely. “Thank you, Cooper. For last night and for breakfast. For everything. I love you.”
Cooper blushes at her open show of affection and eyes me over the top of Beth’s head, smiling sheepishly. Beth and Cooper have developed a special bond, for which I’m grateful. Beth’s own father died in the line of duty as a Chicago police officer when she was just an infant. And Cooper has no close family. He’s never been married and has no children. I think he and Beth naturally gravitated toward each other. She needs a father, and he needs a family. They hit it off right from the start. I’m happy because it means there’s one more person to love and watch over Beth – and Cooper makes an excellent protector.
“You’re welcome, kiddo,” Cooper says to Beth, patting her back. “Let’s just hope Shane doesn’t make a habit of spending the night in jail.”
* * *
I follow Beth back to our suite. As she finishes getting ready for our outing, I strap on my gun holster and Beretta, then pull on a blue plaid shirt to conceal the gun. Kline may no longer be in the picture, but I’m not going out unarmed.
When Beth disappears into the bathroom, I pull a small, black velvet ring box out from the back of my sock drawer, where it’s been hiding for days now. I know it’s too soon to give it to her, but after last night, I feel a burning desire to get that ring on her finger.
I feel like I’ve known Beth all my life, but the truth is, it’s only been about five months. I know that’s not long enough for someone to make a life-long decision about how she wants to spend the rest of her life – and with whom – but my mind is made up. I’m going to be her husband. I’m going to love, honor, and cherish her for the rest of her life – if she’ll have me. I know she loves me, I don’t doubt that. But whether or not she’s ready to make a commitment is another story.
I open the lid of the ring box and stare at its contents – a delicate gold band with a vintage diamond setting – and ponder my plan of attack. I could ask her outright to marry me, but there’s a risk she might say no simply because it’s too soon. I get that. But that’s a risk I’m not willing to take. The alternative is to offer it to her as some kind of promise ring, but that doesn’t sit well with me either – I know I want a commitment with her. A promise ring seems too ambiguous.
I carry the ring over to one of the full-length windows and study it in the bright morning light. The diamond is flawless, beautifully cut, with perfect bezels reflecting clear bright light. It’s not a big diamond – just shy of a full carat, certainly not as big as what I would have liked to get her. But I know Beth. She wouldn’t want a big, ostentatious display of wealth. She’d much prefer a smaller, more modest diamond. It’s a beautiful ring, no doubt, and it’s more in fitting with her taste. I did my best to choose a ring she would have chosen for herself.
Before I can come to any decision, she breezes out of the bathroom, looking radiantly happy. Her hair is up in a ponytail, which makes her look impossibly young, and my heart tightens painfully in my chest. As she’s preoccupied picking up the clothing we left on the floor last night and depositing it into the laundry hamper, I discretely close the ring box and slip it into the oversized pocket of my cargo shorts.
* * *
The beach is just a few hundred yards from our apartment building, so we walk, enjoying the sunshine and fresh air. It’s a perfect day for a stroll along Lake Michigan. We reach Oak Beach just minutes later and of course, it’s packed with both tourists and locals enjoying this mild, late summer day. So we head north along the wide, paved pathway and follow Lakeshore Trail as it hugs the shoreline.
As always, the path is bustling with bikers, joggers, power walkers, parents pushing baby strollers and chasing after toddlers. We take our time, strolling hand-in-hand. The skies are clear, and we can see well out into the lake where the yachts cruise and ski jets race across the waves.
When we reach North Avenue Beach, we stop for iced coffee drinks at a cafe. Beth takes off her sandals and wades into the surf, standing knee-deep in water that I know is chilly as hell.
“Come sit down with me for a bit,” I say as she approaches. I take her hand and lead her to a wooden park bench beneath a large shade tree not far from the beach. We sit there for a while, my arm across her shoulders. She pulls my free hand into her lap and links our fingers together. After the chaos of last night, it’s a pleasure to be able to simply relax with her.
I watch the young families strolling by and try to picture myself in the role of husband and father. I’m not afraid of commitment, but I’ve never felt the need to make one with a particular woman before. But when I do think of taking that step, Beth is the only woman I can picture myself taking it with. And when I think of her being married someday, maybe becoming a mother, I know it has to be with me. I can’t picture my life without her in it.
I’m going to do it. Maybe I’m rushing things. And maybe it’s unfair to spring this on her after last night’s drama. But my instincts are screaming at me to do it. I’m going to offer her the ring and pray she accepts it.
My heart is racing. “I have something for you,” I say, still not sure what exactly I’m going to say to her.
She glances up at me, a curious expression on her face. “Oh? What is it?”
I’m flying by the seat of my pants here, but my gut says go for it. I reach into my pocket and withdraw the ring box and hold it out to her. She reaches for it, and I wrap my hands around hers, holding them as I study her gaze for the slightest clue as to what she’s thinking. I feel the slightest tremor in her hands.
I honestly don’t know what to say. I could always go with the truth, which is “I know I’m jumping the gun here, Beth, but I don’t give a damn. I want you to marry me, so say yes. I don’t care that it’s too soon. I’m sorry if you’re not ready for this.” But of course I can’t say any of that, so I just say the one thing I know deep in my heart. “I love you, Beth.” Then I release her hands. “Go ahead. Open it.” Damn it, I don’t think I’ve ever been so nervous in my life.
Beth opens the little black box and stares with wide eyes at its contents. For a long, agonizing moment, she says nothing. My heart is in my throat as I watch her expression for a clue to what she’s thinking. I honestly don’t know what I’ll do if she rejects it.
“It’s beautiful.” Her voice is little more than a sigh. She looks up at me, her blue-green eyes wary. “What is this?”
I smile, realizing she really doesn’t know. Then it comes to me. I know what I’m going to say – I’m just going to be honest with her and put it out there for her to decide what she’s ready for. “It’s whatever you want it to be, sweetheart. Whatever you’re ready for. A friendship ring, a promise ring. An engagement ring. You tell me.”
She glances down at the ring cradled in her hands and her eyes fill with tears.
Damn it! I should have waited. I lift her chin so that we’re looking
eye to eye, then lean forward and kiss her gently on the lips. “There is no wrong answer, honey,” I say, hoping to put her at ease. “It’s whatever you want it to be.”
She doesn’t hesitate. “It’s an engagement ring.”
I can’t help smiling like an idiot at her pronouncement. “In that case....” I get down on one knee in front of her and take her left hand in both of mine. “Elizabeth Marie Jamison, will you marry me? Will you allow me the honor of becoming your husband?”
Tears spill down her cheeks. “Yes,” she says in a shaky voice.
I pull her off the bench and into my lap, and we sit on the ground holding each other. I kiss her temple. “I promise to love, honor, cherish, and protect you for the rest of your life, and that includes vanquishing all your monsters.”
“That sounds like a vow, Shane.”
“Yes, it does. And you know I keep my vows.”
She leans forward and kisses me, her soft lips trembling against mine. I can taste the salt of her tears, and I feel such an overwhelming sense of peace and rightness. There’s a settling in my chest, like my heart has come home to roost. I’m home. She’s my home. I remove the ring from the box and slip it onto her ring finger. She stares down at her hand, admiring the ring.
“Do you like it?” I ask her. “If you don’t, we can exchange it for something – ”
Beth throws her arms around my neck, smiling at me like I just hung the moon for her. “Are you kidding? I love it! It’s perfect.” She kisses me again. “You know me so well,” she murmurs against my lips.
I deepen the kiss, despite the fact that we’re out in public, starting to attract the stares of more than a few curious onlookers. I scoop her up in my arms and rise to sit back on the bench. We both laugh as we brush the sand off our shorts. Our small audience begins to dissipate.
I take hold of Beth’s left hand, and we both eye the ring. It’s just a tiny band of gold, with a small, perfect diamond nestled in the setting, and yet it symbolizes so much. I can’t shake the fear that I’m rushing her, though, which would be a mistake. “Sweetheart, if this is too soon – ”
She clutches my hand. “It’s not,” she says, tears in her eyes. “Shane, I love you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”
I cradle the side of her face with my free hand, marveling at my own good fortune. Ironically, even though he’s the bane of my existence, I owe Tyler more than I can ever repay. If it weren’t for him, I never would have met Beth. I am indebted to Tyler for that. I wouldn’t be surprised if he now regrets his decision to hire my company to protect his sister. But at least we got the job done – Kline’s no longer a threat to her. It was a promise I made, and a promise I kept.
Speaking of Kline, Beth and I haven’t really talked about last night yet, and we need to. I rise to my feet and pull her up with me. We need somewhere quiet and private, where we can discuss what happened. And perhaps discuss the future, if she’s ready for that. The penthouse isn’t always the most private of places, but I do know of a place where we’ll be guaranteed privacy.
“Let’s go to my office apartment,” I suggest. “We can talk there.”
She looks wary. “Talk about what?”
“About Kline. And last night.”
“Do we have to? I mean, what’s done is done, right? What’s there to talk about?”
“Actually, quite a bit,” I say, taking her by the hand. Quite a bit.
Reconnecting
We catch an Uber ride to my office building. On the drive to my office building, I take a moment to send a quick text to Cooper. She said yes. He’ll know what I’m talking about. He was with me when I bought the ring.
The place is pretty quiet on a Saturday, so we make it up to my floor without encountering many people. We enter my office and head straight for the locked door that leads to my private sanctuary at work – a small, one bedroom apartment. Once inside the apartment, I flip on the light switch. Then I remove my gun holster and hang it, with my handgun, on a wall hook.
“Make yourself comfortable,” I say, steering her toward the sofa. “Can I get you anything to eat or drink?”
“No, thank you,” she says, shaking her head.
I can tell she’s uncomfortable, not wanting to face a discussion about what happened last night. I can’t say that I blame her. Last night had to have been traumatic, and I’m sure she wants to put it behind her.
“Sit down, sweetheart.”
She drops down onto the sofa, stiff and wary, and kicks off her sandals and tucks her legs up on the seat. Her hands are in her lap, clasped tightly. I walk over to the small bar across the room and pour us each a shot of whisky in small tumblers. I top hers off with a generous splash of Coke.
Wordlessly, I hand the glass to her. She peers up at me, looking resigned. Then she looks down at the glass in her hands and frowns. “I hate whisky,” she says, swirling it around.
I laugh. “I know you do, but you might appreciate a little liquid courage right now.”
“Do we have to do this?” Her gaze is still on her glass, but it’s not the drink she’s talking about. “It’s done. I don’t want to talk about it.”
I knock back my shot of whisky and set the empty glass on the coffee table. Then I drop down on the sofa beside Beth, facing her, and take one of her hands in mine. We might as well get this over with. “I killed a man last night. We have to talk about that. I need to know you’re okay with it.”
She looks up at me in surprise. “That’s what you’re worried about? Are you kidding? You risked your life for me! You could have been hurt!”
“That wasn’t likely, sweetheart.”
She shakes her head. “It could have happened. Something could have gone wrong, and you might have gotten hurt, or Caroline, or Jake.”
“Honey, we knew what we were doing. There wasn’t any serious risk to me or to any of my people. Kline never had a chance. The minute he broke into your home, he was a dead man. And I’m the one who put a bullet in his brain. I need to know you’re okay with that.”
Her brow furrows. “Of course I’m okay with it.” She reaches up and strokes my face. “Is that what you’re afraid of? That I would ... what? Blame you? Be afraid of you?”
She studies my face for a long moment. “That’s it, isn’t it? You’re afraid I’ll think less of you for killing him. Shane, no.”
Her thumb brushes across my cheek, and I close my eyes to savor the pleasure of her soft caress. Then I feel her warm lips touch mine, gently at first, then with more pressure. I honestly didn’t bring her here for sex – I brought her here so we could talk about what happened with Kline. But when her lips tease mine apart and her tongue slips into my mouth, I latch on and begin gently sucking.
Her arms slip around my waist. “Shane.”
There’s a wealth of longing in her tone, and my body responds accordingly.
“I don’t want to talk about last night. It’s done. It’s over. That monster is dead, and I’m glad you’re the one who did it.” She lifts up and places her lips against mine, gently teasing me with soft kisses. Her hands fist my shirt, and she pulls me closer.
Already my body’s stirring to her touch, to the sound of her voice, the natural scent of her warm skin. I’m trying to do the right thing here, but honestly, she’s swamping my senses and short-circuiting my brain. All I can think about now is getting her naked and in bed.
I rise and scoop her up into my arms, and she sighs, slipping her arms around my neck.
“I want you,” she says, and that’s all the encouragement I need.
* * *
It’s a short walk down the hallway to the bedroom. I lay her on the bed and follow her down. We both kick off our shoes into the floor, and she pulls my mouth down to hers and kisses me.
I break our kiss and brush her hair back. “God, I love you.” My chest feels tight and I swallow hard. It scares me sometimes, the intensity of my feelings for her.
Beth’s eyes fill with tears, and sh
e reaches up to brush my brow. “I love you too,” she says, her voice little more than a whisper. She smiles at me. “How in the world did I ever get so lucky?”
I chuckle. “I’m the lucky one.”
She gives me a tremulous smile, then slips one hand behind my neck and pulls me down for a kiss, her lips soft and open and eager. I’ve been trying to restrain myself around her all day. After what she went through last night, the last thing she needs is me pressing her for sex. But damn it, I’d give anything to be inside her right now, sinking deep into her wet, lush heat.
I allow myself the pleasure of losing myself in her kiss. I figure a little making out won’t hurt, especially since she’s instigating it. Maybe I was wrong in thinking she needed space. Maybe she wants this kind of connection between us right now – maybe she needs it too.
I let her take the lead, and she nudges my lips apart with her own. With a soft sigh, her tongue slips into my mouth and caresses mine, stroking gently. I groan at her touch, and she smiles as my dick swells in my shorts, expanding by the second and demanding more space than my clothing comfortably allows.
I shift my position to give my erection some space, and she takes advantage of my movements to roll me to my back. The next thing I know, she’s leaning over me, pushing my shirt off my shoulders. I sit up and remove the garment, tossing it aside. Then she grabs the hem of my T-shirt and pulls it up and off me. All right then. Looks like we’re doing this.
I lie back on the bed, enjoying the feel of her hands on my chest. Her fingers trace the outline of my muscles, and the pads of her thumbs brush the tips of my nipples, making them tighten with anticipation. Her teasing strokes send heated pleasure coursing down my body, from the roots of my hair straight down to my cock, which is already painfully hard.
She straddles my lap, then unbuttons her own shirt and tosses it aside. I watch, captivated, as she reaches behind her back to leisurely unhook her bra and let it slip oh-so-slowly off her perfect little breasts and down her slender arms to land on my bare chest.
