by Tasman Gibb
Even though she felt a bit silly, she slid into the difficult heels that had almost been her downfall when she’d approached the stage to give her speech. Once done, she rechecked the mirror, wondering if Vince would be as surprised as her any time she caught a glimpse of herself all dressed-up. She’d grown up a tomboy, preferring jeans and t-shirts, but even she was impressed by the way she turned out in a dress.
Modeling time. She drew a deep breath and opened her bedroom door. Walking to him, she heard the unfamiliar tattoo of her heels on the floorboards, and when Vince turned, they both paused. He stood dressed in a dark suit and, hell, it took her breath away. It was true. A well-cut suit was, to a woman, like lingerie to a man. And that suit was beautifully cut. She gave him a twirl, finishing with a smile at him, but he stood there speechless. The dress? Was it too much? Now self-conscious, she smoothed her hands down its front. The halter neckline crossed high up near her neck, fastening around the back to leave her shoulders bare. The back plunged to below her waist, fitting snugly over her butt before falling softly to stop above her knee.
“You don’t like it,” she said quietly.
He shook his head. “I love it. You’re stunning. And the shoes…wow. They make your ankles even more perfect, and, just wow. The only thing I don’t like is that a ballroom filled with men saw you in it before I did.”
“Well, I have to say, I’m glad the other half of the inhabitants of the ballroom that night didn’t get to see what I’m seeing right now, because you are devastating in a suit.”
He walked to her, took her hand, and lifted it to his lips, kissing it softly before capturing one knuckle between his teeth. He held it, giving her a wicked grin. She winked at him, and he released her, laughing. He led her to the table where dinner was set out, candles lit, sat her down, and placed a napkin across her lap.
“All joking aside, Lulah, you’re a vision. And it’s more than the dress; it’s what’s inside you, too.”
Her face flushed, and tears? Now? She glanced around the cabin. It might be small, but it was her home, completed by having Vince there, too. The candlelight threw long shadows, and she took in a big breath, acknowledging how stupid she was to stubbornly refuse to apply for a bank loan to buy the place. That soon she would lose the opportunity to sit in this room, to remember this night, was dispiriting. But she brushed away those thoughts, because Vince had created this beautiful magic, and nothing would ruin this night.
He removed his jacket. “Sorry, babe, I’m too hot in this,” he said. Lulah didn’t mind, enjoying the view of the fit of the slacks around his ass, the way the buttoned shirt almost strained to contain the breadth of his shoulders as he walked to the kitchen. He returned with an ice bucket and champagne.
Lulah eyed him. “So do you want to tell me what this is all about?”
He dislodged the foil from the top of the bottle, loosening the wire cage, the muselet, all the time keeping his eye on her and barely keeping the grin from his face. “Tonight is about a lot of things.” He removed the cork with a contained pop. “A celebration, if you like. Foremost, it’s an expression of my gratitude to you for all that you’ve done for me.”
She watched him fill two flutes. Flutes! He’s even bought new glasses.
“It’s my homecoming celebration. A ceremony to mark my return and to remember those who never made it home. And to honor those who, because of their soul wounds, are still fighting their way back.”
Lulah took the glass he offered her. “I’ll drink to that,” she said, lifting it to touch his own raised glass, and as she did, she noticed the small tremble to her hand. No man had ever done anything like this for her, and she felt as if she wanted to take those three words she’d whispered into the compass on his back and share them with him again. This time bravely, at full volume. Except she wasn’t that brave, and her future was in tatters.
“Now let’s eat, because to be honest, Lulah, if I don’t have something soon to take my mind off you in that dress, we won’t be having dinner tonight.”
He’d cooked French lamb cutlets with roasted rosemary potatoes and a simple side-dish of steamed peas and beans. “We used to sit around and talk about the meal we most missed from home, and once we’d passed the idea of the instant gratification of a really cheesy pizza, we came up with all kinds of menus. In the end, what we’re having tonight was the one we all agreed on. Naturally, we added the company of a gorgeous female to top off the perfect meal.”
The food was delicious, but when Vince tried to serve her more, she turned him down. “You know me, Vince. I could eat more, but I’m going to do damage to this dress if I take another mouthful.”
“We can take a break before dessert.” He started to clear the dishes, and Lulah helped, following him to the kitchen with the last plates from the meal. Her shoes were becoming troublesome after two glasses of champagne.
She placed the dishes on the counter before bending down to ease off the shoes, but Vince stopped her with a hand on her shoulder. “Let me do that for you.” Crouched on one knee, he lifted her right foot and released the small clasp to slip off her shoe. When she went to place her foot on the floor, he kept hold of her, sending her that wicked, want-you-now grin. He held up one shoe. “These are so hot, imp, I think you should wear them every night.” After removing the other shoe, he lightly trailed his fingers up her calf, behind her knee, stopping mid-thigh. She shivered as his fingers lit up her nerves, sending a tingle racing up her thighs.
“Lulah?”
She looked down at him. His suit pants would be ruined with dog hair if he stayed on the floor too long.
“While I’m down here, there’s something I’d like to do.”
She laughed. “Typical man.” She brushed her hand over the top of his head.
“Actually, I’m serious, and I want to do this right. Now seems a good time, because I can’t wait any longer.”
His face was somber. “I think my filthy mind has the wrong idea about what you want to do.” What on earth was he thinking?
The saucy smile returned. “Oh, there’s that, too, but I want to say something first.”
“You always want to say something first.”
He reached up and put a finger to her lips. “Shh.” He reached for her hand, and he studied it, a focus that suggested he was still putting together exactly what he wanted to say. Was this it? Over? Was he finally ready to move on?
Chapter 36
VINCE THOUGHT THE depth of his feelings would make this easy. He’d gone over it countless times since he’d left the retreat, but now the words deserted him, and with the way his throat closed over, his ability to speak probably disappeared with the words. He had to say something, because he was stuck here, on the floor, with Lulah looking more bewildered by the second. His speech wasn’t hampered by any sort of reluctance or fear of what Lulah’s response might be. It was hampered by the emotion that overwhelmed him, by the changes occurring during the past few weeks to remove the fear from his soul so that courage and love could flow free.
“Lulah, I’ve told you before that I love you. Usually during fraught moments with my emotions running crazy, my fear battling love, and you there as my anchor. You’ve always been there for me to hold onto when I needed something to grasp, to keep me from drowning. I never wanted you to feel obligated, but as I’ve healed so much over the past month, I’ve come to understand that you make me whole. Not in a dependent sort of way, but in that manner where you’ve shown me how to stand on my own and grow as a person.
“You might not realize this, Lulah, but the more I loved you, the more love I received from you. By loving me, you made me seek the help I needed, so that today I feel like a whole and worthy person. I want to be that person for you, too. Not in a selfish way, but in a way that I can make you happy, be the person you can turn to, as I’ll turn to you, too, when something troubles us. To see you happy, Lulah, is the most precious gift to me.”
He opened his palm, exposing her hand tha
t he held. Her fingers were lightly curled, and he stroked the back of them with his thumb, taking a moment to try and compose himself, because while he might be fit, he wasn’t sure his heart could continue at the rate it raced. He coaxed her hand open with the draw of his fingers, taking hold of one of hers. God, she was beautiful. What sort of fool was he for imagining he deserved what he was about to ask? But they were defeatist ideas, and in his heart he knew that it was Lulah’s heart that was so beautiful, Lulah’s heart that he wanted.
“Marry me, Lulah. Let me be strong for you the way you are for me.”
Her eyes glistened, and he wasn’t sure if that was a good sign. She seemed speechless, and he smiled because it was pretty hard to render Lulah mute for long.
“Vince…”
“I want you to know that you can rely on me. My name won’t be on that list of people who have let you down, because it would break my heart to do that. We can live here, Lulah. I’ll fix up the barn as a workshop. We can add a bedroom or two to the cabin for—”
“Vince, we can’t.”
Oh, God. Tears, denial. Probably sensible, to be honest. They needed to talk about it more. He shouldn’t have sprung it on her like this. Still, this was a starting point, and he wouldn’t give up. “I don’t need an answer right away.”
“No, Vince.” She pulled her hand from his grasp. “Stand up, please.”
He would have stayed there for hours if she’d demanded it, but it was a relief to be off his knee. He stole another look, and now she smiled.
“I mean yes, but no. No, we can’t continue to live in the cabin, because it’s sold, but yes, Vince, I would love to marry you, spend my life with you, just not here in this cabin.”
Jesus, he thought his heart would burst. He wrapped her in his arms and fell into the most wondrous kiss they’d ever shared. And now it was easier to break that kiss, because it was no longer stolen in a small moment, but the first of many. He laughed. His speech came out all wrong, and he’d forgotten one vital piece of information.
“Sorry, imp, I messed this all up.” He reached into his pocket. “I performed the down-on-my-knees bit okay, I even asked Ray, which was why I missed lunch this afternoon. Well, that, and…here, hold out your hand again.”
He took hold of her finger and slipped the ring on. “I sat at the jewelers for an hour and waited for this to arrive.”
“Vince, it’s stunning.”
“Oh, you like it?”
“I adore it. It’s that sketch you did one day.”
“I’ve done a lot of them, been doing them for two months, and it took a while for me to find someone who could make it.” The ring was plain gold but the solitaire diamond was held in the clasp of two hands, one slightly larger than the other. One clearly Vince’s hand, the other, Lulah’s. “Oh, and there’s one more thing. Wait there.”
How had he forgotten this vital part of the evening? Perhaps because he’d already spent weeks imagining not only this moment but their entire life spent loving each other in this cabin. At times, the fantasy grew to a couple of children and Gable spending a lot of time with them. Lulah as a mother would be awesome. In his bag, he found the papers from the lawyer. When he handed them to Lulah, she obviously noticed the legal envelope.
“What’s this, Vince, a pre-nup already?”
He grinned at her. “Read it.” She was going to marry him, wasn’t she? Is that what she’d said? He waited, his heart settling to a steady thump as he watched her try to make sense of the papers. The small crease on her brow showed she wasn’t quite getting it.
Her face screwed up. “I don’t understand.”
“I bought the cabin.”
“You bought the cabin? But you knew I wanted to buy it, Vince, you knew all about my insecurities. Why did you do that? You took my prize from me.” She stepped back from him.
“I do know all about your insecurities, and I’m hoping that together we can work on those, because you can trust me.”
She waved the papers at him. “I did trust you, but this makes me question that trust.”
“I wanted to surprise you. It’s my wedding gift to you. The cabin is in a trust, and you’re the sole beneficiary. It’s yours, Lulah, and if it makes you feel better, you can buy it off the trust. I wanted to secure it for you in a way that you would never lose it. No matter what happens to us, this cabin will always be yours.”
She threw her arms around him, burrowing her head into his chest. Ah, hell, he’d made her cry again. She pushed off him, swiping at her tears.
“I want you to know this, Vince. I don’t intend anything happening to us but good things. I expect us to be sitting out there on the porch, rocking our way into old age together. Always together. Thank you for considering my insecurity about my home. That means more to me than you can imagine. Now, about the extra bedrooms you were planning, are you expecting guests, or children?”
“Oh, children, definitely.”
“Good, because I’ve already met one stunning child of yours and I think the world needs a few more.”
“Hey, imp…have I told you you’re unbelievably stunning yourself?
Lulah made a jump for him, wrapping her arms around his neck, her hands slipping up to capture the back of his head, her legs clasping him around his hips. “In that case, Vince Marr, our children will be scorching.”
He grinned. “Let’s move this to the bedroom, imp. You’re dessert.”
THE END
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What’s coming next?
I’m working on a new series set in the fictitious seaside town of Waitapu on the east coast of New Zealand’s Coromandel Peninsula. The beaches in the area look like this:
Come and meet five tanned, deliciously alpha males in a friendship forged through a yachting tragedy. Each successful in his own right, they co-own an exclusive lodge on the cliffs above the town. Now it’s time for them to settle down and find their soul mate.
Book One belongs to Oliver and Darcy.
A year ago, Oliver Sackville broke off his engagement to a scamming fiancé, confirming his belief that women go where the money is.
Darcy Kennedy has just returned to New Zealand after two years in Australia that took her from a high-flying career to flat broke. Small-town Waitapu seems the perfect place to pull her life back together especially when Oliver offers Darcy a well-paid short-term contract. Their attraction is mutual and steamy, but Darcy has a reason to hide, and Oliver hates liars.
About the author
New Zealand-born, Tasman Gibb loves to write contemporary romance featuring emotionally flawed heroines and her
oes. She lives in Auckland, New Zealand, but spends as much time as possible on the Coromandel Peninsula. Life is shared with Mr Scott and Skipper, a fired-up, almost completely fox terrier rescue dog.
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