by Doreen Alsen
She remembered his pictures of her. “I trust you.”
He laughed. “Then stick with me, Sparky.”
“Why do they think we’re hiding out in there? Like I’ve got nothing against the Red Club, but why do they think we’re there?”
“I’ve got my theory about that, too.” He grabbed her hand. “C’mon.”
Well, it wasn’t like he was giving her a choice about it.
He slowed their pace down to a stroll as they reached the phalanx of photographers. “Looking for someone? Or maybe two someones?” he called out.
Just like in a cartoon, all heads turned with an audible snap to look at them. It took the sharks a beat, but they recovered fast and started shooting.
She noticed several townspeople on the edges of the crowd: Betts Quinn and Birdie McCorkle from The Sea Crest Inn, Katelyn Sullivan from Mariner’s Fish Fry, the ladies from the Venus Gallery, David Hu from Murphy’s Bar, Melanie Owens from Sang Freud, and Sal from Lobster Lanes. Last, but not least, Jessie Michaels and Caleb Drake stepped out of the front doors of the Red Club, which Jessie owned and where Caleb was the dungeon master.
She was pretty sure the rest of the greater Lobster Cove community had gathered around. You had to love a small town.
Tim grinned like the very devil. “I’m glad you’re all here,” he gestured to the crowd of photographers. “Even you.”
Every single photographer put his camera up over his right eye and placed his finger on the click button.
Tim held up his hand. “Not so fast. No pictures unless it’s okay with my lady.” He turned and studied her face. “Are you okay with this?”
What? Hadn’t he already asked her that? “Okay with what?”
“Okay with getting your picture taken. With me right next to you. Because unless you’re totally good with it, no picture.”
He had this odd, hopeful gleam in his eye.
“I…I told you I was.” She felt a little lightheaded.
“I won’t let them hurt you.”
She looked around at all the people on the street in front of the Red Club. Everyone grinned at her expectantly, like their next breaths depended on her decision. She sighed. “I know.”
He closed his eyes for a brief second then took her hand and brushed his lips over her fingers. The cameras whirred as he dropped to one knee in front of her, his hand still holding onto hers. “Angelique Durand, I love you with my whole heart and soul. I don’t deserve you, but I promise you to do my damndest to make you happy for the rest of your life if you’ll marry me.” Pulling a ring box out of his pants pocket, he opened it and held it up for her to see.
Angelique felt tears running down her face as she gazed at one of the biggest diamonds she’d ever seen. Her breath caught in her throat, and she had to swallow around the lump it made.
Marry Tim? She looked down at his hopeful face and felt the last piece of her heart click into place; a piece she hadn’t even known she missed, making it whole.
“Yes,” she whispered. “Oh yes.”
He closed his eyes and swayed like he couldn’t count on his legs keeping him from falling over. “You’re sure?”
“Absolutely. I’ve never been more sure of anything else in my life.”
The crowd went crazy, clapping, whooping,
He slipped the diamond on her finger, stood, and kissed the bejeezus out of her. After coming up for air, he rested his forehead on hers. He swallowed hard. “Are you sure?”
“I’ve never been more sure about anything else in my entire life.”
“Thank God,” he murmured. “I can’t even begin to imagine my life without you in it.”
“Thank God you won’t have to.” She looked at all the people standing around and doing the heavy looking on. “Can we go home now? It’s a little crowded around here.”
“You got it, Sparky. Let’s go.
Epilogue
“Can I get you anything, Sparky? Glass of champagne or something?”
Angelique opened her eyes. She’d nearly fallen asleep on the port bench of the cockpit of the twenty-eight foot sailboat they’d rented for their honeymoon.
She glanced down at her ring and admired the way the sunlight sent different colored beams in several directions. She would have married him without a ring, but since he’d gotten her such a huge one, she might as well enjoy it.
“Or something.” She lifted her face for a kiss. He obliged.
She loved that about him.
She loved, in fact, everything about him.
He leaned down to kiss her. Nothing in her life had been sweeter.
“I don’t know. It’s a rare day that you turn down champagne.” He tilted his head to one side. “You barely touched it yesterday at the wedding toast.”
She decided the time was right to share the news that she’d been clutching tightly to her heart for the past week. “Champagne isn’t good for the baby.”
He crouched in front of her on legs that were less than reliable. “A baby.”
She took his hand and placed it on her stomach. “Oui. A baby. Our baby.”
He fell back on his butt with a thud. “You’re sure,” he whispered.
“Oui. We’ll be a real family.” Something she’d been absolutely sure she didn’t want a year ago. Now she couldn’t believe how excited and blessed she felt.
He nearly choked. “The two of us together already made a family.”
Her blood froze. “You’re not happy about the baby?”
He took her chin in his hand. “I’m happy about the baby. I’m beyond happy about the baby.” He gave her a hard kiss on her mouth. “Just a few months ago I only wanted to be left alone. I wanted the world to go away.” He laughed. “Then you moved in next door and you gave me my life back. I adore you, Angelique Durand Baldwin. No one else will ever love you better or longer.”
“I’m counting on that, cher.” She kissed him. “I’m counting on it.
A word about the author…
Doreen has wanted to be a writer her whole life but took a detour into being an opera singer and choral conductor. She realized that maybe she should spend more time writing when creating the backstories for her operatic characters was more fun than actually singing them. Plus her romance-lovin’ heart couldn’t take all the dead bodies littering the stage at the end of the performances. She is still an active conductor and is regularly found waving her arms around in front of singers.
www.doreenalsen.com
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