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The New Rule: (The Casual Rule 2)

Page 30

by AC Netzel


  Turn around, Julia

  I spin the chair around with tears streaming down my face and a smiling Ben leaning in the doorway.

  “You knew I came in here and read your stuff?” I ask, unsuccessfully blinking back my tears.

  “Yes,” he answers, amused.

  “And you’re not mad?”

  He shakes his head, smiling. “No.”

  He walks over to me with a look of love so deep it takes my breath away. He kneels down on one knee and pulls a small blue velvet box out of his pocket. He opens the box and a stunning round diamond ring with a pair of diamond baguettes on either side of the platinum setting is staring back at me. I’ve never seen anything so beautiful.

  I gasp, placing my hand over my mouth. My heart is beating wildly in my chest, my body trembling.

  “I didn’t look for love, love found me. You are my heart and my soul. I love our past. I love our present. It would be my privilege to be your future.

  This ring belonged to my grandmother,” he chokes up and pauses, composing himself. “It’s been in my family for over a hundred years. I would be honored if you’d wear it.

  I want to be the only one in your heart. The only one who kisses you goodnight. The only one you love because, Julia, you are the only one I will ever love.

  You’re everything good in my life. I want complicated and messy with you. Every part of me belongs to you. Spend the rest of your life beside me. Let me love you forever.

  I love you, Julia Conti. Be my wife. Please marry me.”

  I nod excitedly. Oh my God, Oh my God. Breathe, Breathe.

  “Yes?” he asks, grinning wide, beautiful dimples and all. He sounds surprised or relieved. I’m not sure which. How could he think my answer would be anything but yes?

  “Yes,” I exclaim, beaming back with happy tears rolling down my cheeks.

  He takes the ring out of the box and slides it on my trembling finger. I stare down at it sparkling brilliantly, reflecting exactly how I feel.

  He stands and pulls me off the chair, twirling me around in circles, laughing. He kisses me tenderly and lowers me back to the floor. His eyes are glassy, happy, and he’s still grinning wide.

  “I don’t know how to tell you how much I love you,” he whispers.

  “You’re doing a great job. I love you. I love you so much,” I say through a half-laugh, half-cry.

  “I know I don’t deserve you, but I’m going to be selfish and never let you go,” he says in wonder, wiping away the tears falling down my cheeks with his knuckle.

  “Good. Never let me go. Never ever let me go.”

  “I will love you forever,” he whispers.

  “Forever? That’s a long time,” I say, beaming at him.

  He smiles warmly, caressing my cheek.

  “Until the day I die.”

  A few months ago, after a bumpy start, Ben first declared his love for me in this apartment. He said it was just our beginning. I look at the sparkling diamond ring on my finger and smile.

  He was right. It was the beginning of our future. And despite our ups and downs… We’re here… Exactly where we’re meant to be. We may not be perfect and sometimes we get it wrong… but there’s no one else on earth I’d rather get it wrong with.

  We’re each other’s love story.

  I always knew Ben was the love of my life… and now we’ll get to live the life I know we’ll love.

  ~o0o~

  Epilogue

  Four weeks later…

  I’m sitting cross-legged on Ben’s bed in a tank top and boy shorts going through what Ben has deemed “Wedding Central”. It’s my box of Bridal magazines, swag from a bridal show I dragged Allie to last week, printouts from websites, business cards… our wedding in a box.

  Ben walks into the bedroom, holding a cup of coffee and a raspberry danish. He sits next to me on the bed and places his coffee cup on the nightstand… where there’s a coaster waiting, of course.

  “Are you going to eat that?” I ask, eying the danish.

  “No, I brought it in for show,” he answers sarcastically.

  “You didn’t bring me one?” I stick out my bottom lip and pout.

  “I’ll share, but it’ll cost you.”

  “Fine, what sexual favor do I have to do to get some food?”

  “I’m hurt you would think so little of me.” He places his hand over his heart, pretending he’s offended.

  “I’ve met you. I know what body part is really in charge,” I deadpan.

  He laughs and taps his cheek with his index finger. I lean across the bed and kiss it.

  “That wasn’t so hard was it?” he asks, bringing the danish to my mouth.

  I shake my head and take a big bite. He brushes the crumbs off my lips with his thumb then gives me a quick peck on my lips.

  He stares down at the magazine opened in front of me. “Another bridal magazine? How many of those do you need?”

  I narrow my eyes then glare at him. “You have no idea of the degree of planning that goes into a wedding.”

  “The gossip rags are probably wondering why their sales numbers have dwindled with all the bridal magazines you’ve bought instead. Why don’t we make it easy and hire a wedding planner?” He kisses my shoulder. “Or we could just fly to Vegas tonight and we won’t have to deal with any of this.”

  “You want to elope?” I ask.

  “I just want to marry you.”

  I grin, running my fingertips down his stubble. “Who’s going to tell my mother that she missed her last unmarried child’s wedding because you wanted to elope? I know I’m not. Do you want to do it?”

  “No.” He takes my hand and kisses the back of it. “She’ll probably find some curse to put on me.”

  I chuckle. “Probably. Right now, you can do no wrong… since you went old school and spoke to my father before proposing.”

  “I wanted to do everything right by you.”

  “It was sweet. He didn’t give you a hard time, did he? He was a real pain when Sophie and Isabelle’s husbands spoke to him before they proposed.”

  “Nah, he was a pussy cat.”

  “My father a pussy cat?” I look at him skeptically. “If you say so. Anyway, thank you. I know it meant a lot to him. And it meant a lot to me.” I grab the danish out of his hand and take another bite.

  “What’s that doing out?” he asks, pointing his chin to the nightstand.

  “The Oliver Twist book? I was thinking about your grandmother and figured it was time to remove it from the paper bag. It seemed disrespectful.”

  “Only you would worry about disrespecting a book.”

  I smack his arm playfully. “Not to the book, to your grandmother.” I reach across the bed to grab the book. Ben grabs me at the same time and the book falls out of my hand.

  “See what you did; now it’s on the floor.”

  “Don’t care. I got a handful of my soon-to-be wife’s ass.”

  “Wife… that freak you out a little?”

  “No. I can’t wait to call you my wife.”

  “I can’t wait either—especially when you say it in front of Camille. In fact, when she’s around, I want you to only address me as Mrs. Martin.”

  He smirks, shaking his head. “So you plan on changing your name?” he asks, ignoring my snarkiness.

  “I’m quite fond of Julia,” I tease.

  “Your last name.”

  “I was planning on it. Julia Martin feels good to me. Would it matter to you?”

  “Not really. I’ll know who I’m married to. As long as it’s you sleeping next to me every night, I don’t care what you call yourself. I can’t believe I’m asking, but what’s your middle name. I don’t know it.”

  “Anne. After my mother’s mother.”

  “Once we’re married, your initials would be J.A.M. It figures.”

  “What figures?”

  “JAM… it’s food related. You and food.”

  “Proof you were meant for me.” I take anot
her bite of the danish. It’s light and flaky, delicious.

  “I think so.” He laughs. “I’ll get the book off the floor. I’m sure it landed safely on top of your ‘In Case of Fire’ pile of clothes on your side of the bed.”

  “It’s all about compromise, Ben. I can’t run out of a burning building in the nude. You want me sleeping naked next to you, you deal with my crazy.”

  “I’ll deal.” He gets off the bed and walks around to my side. Bending down to pick up the book, he pauses, looking curiously at a piece of paper in his hand. “What’s this?”

  “What?”

  “It’s a note. It’s in my grandmother’s handwriting. It must have fallen out of the book.”

  “What’s it say?”

  He sits next to me on the edge of the bed, places the worn leather-bound book down on a pillow, and unfolds the paper.

  His brow crinkles. “Hmm.”

  “What?” I ask, trying to peek over his shoulder.

  “It’s for you.” He hands the paper to me.

  “Me?” I read at the note in my hand. Ben is reading it over my shoulder.

  Julia~

  This book is priceless to me. I read it to my son and my grandchildren when they were young. I want you to carry on the Martin tradition and read this to my great grandchildren someday.

  All my Love, Kitty.

  Ben tilts his head and chuckles softly. “Damn.”

  “She knew. She knew we’d end up together. She told me I was your once in a lifetime love.” I smile, peeking over at the well-read book on the bed.

  “She was right about that,” he says, running his finger down my neck and across my collarbone. He reaches over to take the danish out of my hand when we both realize I finished it. I shrug apologetically. He rolls his eyes.

  “She wants me to read this to our children. You do want children, don’t you? I assumed you did… with the way you were with Emma, but we never really talked about it,” I ask.

  “I didn’t before I met you, but I love your big family. I want that for us. Our own family. A little bit of me and a little more of you.”

  “You do?” I grin.

  “I’d like some time just you and me, but somewhere down the road, yes. It’ll be fun. I’ll teach our son about coins.”

  “Our son? So you’ve really given this some thought. Have you come up with a name for him?”

  “I’d like to keep with tradition and honor my grandfather.”

  “Leonard?” I squirm uncomfortably in the bed.

  I’m going to hear the pitter-patter of a little coin collector’s feet named Leonard?

  “I know you don’t like that name.”

  “That’s not true,” I lie; my nose is probably growing with each word spoken.

  “Julia, I saw you cringe every time my grandmother called me by it.” Dammit, he doesn’t miss a thing. “We can call him by his middle name. Any suggestions?”

  “I’d love to name him after my dad.”

  “Leonard Frank?”

  “Frank isn’t his real name.”

  “He goes by his middle name like I do? I didn’t know that. What’s his first name?”

  “Oh, he doesn’t have a middle name. His real name is Joseph.”

  Ben frowns. “Joseph? Why does everyone call him Frank?”

  “When he was growing up, his family was full of Josephs. Grandfather, uncles, cousins… it was a House of Joes. Half the neighborhood was named either Joseph or Anthony. It got confusing when someone called out the name. Everyone answered and nothing got done. So I guess my grandparents picked a name out of the air.”

  “And picking a random name, that has no association with the person, isn’t confusing?”

  I shrug. “It worked.”

  “Leonard Joseph… we’ll call him Joe. I like that.”

  “Me too. What if he’s a she?” I ask.

  “I’d like to name her after my grandmother.”

  “Kitty? No disrespect—but if we name our daughter ‘Kitty’, we’ve condemned her to a life on the stripper pole.”

  “Kitty is her nickname. Her birth name is Katherine. I thought you knew.”

  “Katherine? That’s pretty. Middle name ‘Rose’ after my mom?”

  “Katherine Rose Martin. Yes, I like that.”

  I look at Ben and smile wide.

  “What are you smiling about?” he asks, smiling back.

  “Us. Look at us. We’re getting married. We’re talking about kids.”

  “I thought we could move to the Central Park apartment. It’s bigger than this place. It has three bedrooms. We own it; we might as well use it.”

  “You own it, I’m just mooching.”

  He frowns. “We own it. What’s mine is yours.”

  I nod, my stomach drops and I look down at my Box o’ Wedding.

  “What’s wrong?” he asks.

  “Nothing,” I lie, biting my thumbnail.

  “If you don’t want to live there, we’ll live someplace else. We can stay here… anywhere you want.”

  “No, it’s not that. That apartment is beautiful.”

  “So what’s bothering you?” he asks, frowning.

  Here’s a touchy subject we’ve never discussed. Money.

  “I guess you’ll want a prenup?” I ask.

  “Why do you think that?”

  “Ben, I know we don’t talk about it, but you obviously have a lot more in the bank than I do. I live paycheck to paycheck. You have your own money, inheritances, and an apartment overlooking Central Park.”

  “You forgot investments. I have an extremely impressive financial portfolio,” he says, amused. “I still am a licensed broker. I’ve told you, I’m excellent at it. Don’t forget the coin collection. There are quite a few rare coins. They’re worth a small fortune.”

  “Are you teasing me?”

  “Yes… I’m sorry. Look, Julia, I don’t care about who has what coming into our marriage. I meant what I said. What’s mine is yours. I want to share everything with you. It’s ours. I don’t want a prenup. I want to get married and grow old together. And have a lot of sex with you in between the two.”

  I take his hand and kiss the back of it.

  “Maybe I want a prenup. Keep your grubby hands off my hundreds.” I smirk, raising a brow.

  He laughs. “I’ll sign it.”

  I smile and caress his cheek. “I’m so glad I found you, Ben Martin.”

  “So am I,” he says, smiling back at me.

  “Who would have thought a dare in Central Park would bring us here?”

  “I’m glad you took that dare.”

  “I’m glad you redeemed your arrogant ass-ness.” I smirk, lifting a brow.

  “I had to get you to fall in love with me to stop you from picking up strangers in Central Park.”

  “I was not trying to pick you up,” I insist.

  “That’s what you claim.”

  “That’s what I know. I take it back… you’re still an arrogant ass.”

  “Maybe, but you love this arrogant ass.”

  “I do.”

  Bonus Chapter

  Rewind: Chapters 23 & 24.

  Behind the scenes.

  “Okay, Martin. It’s Showtime,” I tell the eyes staring back at me in my rearview mirror.

  I get out of my SUV and look intently at the house in front of me. Fuck. This is more nerve-wracking than I thought it would be; like I’m making a first impression on someone I’ve already met.

  Taking a deep breath, I press the doorbell. Less than three seconds later the door swings open to a friendly face.

  “Ben!” Rose exclaims, opening the screen door wide. “Come in, come in.”

  I laugh to myself at Rose’s enthusiasm. She knew I was coming. I called yesterday. There’s no doubt I have Rose on my side. I’m going to keep that information in my pocket in case I need backup.

  “Hello, Rose. It’s good to see you.” I walk in and kiss her cheek.

  “What’s this little
peck? Come here.” She wraps her arms around me until I’m at her mercy in the mother-of-all bear hugs.

  Once she lets go, she stares at me with a grin a mile wide. There’s no pretending why I’m here. I’m sure the second after I called and told her I wanted to speak with Frank, she was already planning the wedding menu.

  That’s if Julia says yes. After all the shit I put her through, I’m not so sure she will. I may be pushing my luck. She looked happy when I gave her a key to my apartment this morning. I only did that to throw her off. She thinks that’s my way of proving my commitment. She has no idea how committed I am.

  “Did you eat?” Rose asks.

  “Yes, before I left the city,” I tell her.

  “Okay, I’ll make you something,” she says, ignoring what I just told her. “Frank is in the backyard waiting for you. You men have a nice ‘talk’,” she practically sings while exaggerating a sly wink.

  If Frank is a quarter as enthusiastic as Rose is, this should be a breeze.

  I walk through the kitchen and catch a glimpse of Frank through the sliding glass doors. He’s sitting in an Adirondack chair and smoking a cigar. I take a deep breath and blow it out slowly, amused at myself over my nervousness.

  Sliding the glass door open; I join him on the patio.

  “Frank, good to see you again,” I say, extending my hand out to him.

  “Ben.” He shakes my hand with a firm grip, never standing, and waves his hand toward the Adirondack chair across from him, gesturing for me to sit. “Cigar?” he asks.

  “No, thanks. I’m good.”

  He leans back in his chair, exhaling a puff of smoke. The wind carries the smoke over to me. I’m as good as smoking a cigar without the effort. I’m not about to piss off the old man and ask him to puff in a different direction, so I suck it up.

  Literally.

  We’re both momentarily distracted by the sound of the kitchen window sliding open.

  “Don’t mind me. Just getting a little fresh air,” Rose lies.

  Clearly, Rose plans on eavesdropping. No wondering where Julia got her nosey nature. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.

  There’s an uncomfortable pause. He’s doing this on purpose to knock me off balance. Impressive, Frank.

  “You find yourself in a bit of a predicament. Don’t you, son?” he asks, leaning forward while puffing on his cigar.

 

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