Good To Be Bad
Page 19
I reach out, lifting the wooden top to expose the storage area beneath. Inside is…
My jaw drops, and I shift wide eyes West’s way. “An antique Scrabble set?”
“Even better,” he says proudly. “A hand-carved special edition commissioned by my great-grandfather in 1948. Here all the way from my family’s estate in Canterbury.”
“Oh, so pretty.” I reverently lift the heavy, gorgeously carved box from the stand and set it on the table behind me.
“My father sent it over with a business friend of his. That’s where I was—treating the friend to lunch as a thank you for playing messenger. He had a change to his schedule and needs to leave New York earlier than expected so…” He pulls in a breath and lets it out long and slow. “It was now or never.”
I glance up with a grin. “You sound nervous. I promise I won’t break it.” I run a gentle hand over the wood.
“I know you won’t,” he whispers. “Go ahead. Open it. The suspense is killing me. I want to see if the tiles are as fancy as I remember.”
“Fancy tiles, huh?” I grip the edges of the hinged case and lift. “That will make beating you even more…”
I trail off. There, on top of the closed game board, those fancy tiles spell out one word—Always?
I jerk my gaze back to West and say perhaps the dumbest thing ever, “This set has punctuation?”
He exhales and nods. “Yeah. I’m not sure the carver really understood the game all that well. But it adds another dimension. And is helpful at times like these.” He pulls a small box from his pocket and my heart ping-pongs again as he opens it to reveal an astonishingly large diamond.
Holy. Smokes.
“This is the real reason for the hand delivery. My father wasn’t about to send this via post.”
I cover my mouth with my hand as tears fill my eyes, a part of me unable to believe this is happening.
“It was my great grandmother’s,” he says softly. “Then my mother’s. And now, I’d really love for it to be yours and for you to be mine. For always.”
Tears streaming down my cheeks, I hurl myself at him, wrapping my arms tight around his neck as I say, “Yes. Oh, yes. And you’ll be mine, and I’m never ever going to let you go.”
“I certainly hope not,” he says, hugging me tight as he sighs. “I confess I’m glad that’s over. I was nervous.”
I pull back, grinning up at him. “You seriously thought I’d say no?”
“I thought you might think we should wait. But I couldn’t put it off. I needed to see my ring on your finger. It’s become an almost primal thing.”
I laugh as I hold out my trembling hand. “Abby was just talking about her primal tigress. You’re a very primal pair.”
“Oh, God, don’t tell me. If I hear any more about her sex life, I’ll never be able to look poor Eduardo in the eye again.” He slides the ring into place on my finger. “There we go. Beautiful.”
I blink faster. “And a perfect fit.”
“I had it sized. That’s what else I was up to this afternoon.”
“Clever man.” I hold out my hand, cocking my head as I watch the diamond glint in the light. “Wow. There’s only one thing that could make this moment any better.”
“Sex in the basement before we go to the gallery opening?”
“I was thinking the bathroom, but…”
I race for the stairs, giggling. He follows me, and we prove that my ring looks gorgeous when my hands are braced against the brick wall while he fucks me from behind.
And then we get dressed and head to Ruby’s gallery to share the good news with the people we love, and finally head home with four new paintings of our very own and a December wedding to plan.
Because we can’t wait for spring or summer.
“We can stay on in London after the ballroom dancing competition,” West says. “Get married in a frigid old church with no central heat, have a huge party after at my brother’s fancy penthouse in Notting Hill, and then stay on for Christmas in the country with my dad and his new girlfriend.”
I clap my hands. “I’ll buy plane tickets for Harrison and Gram tomorrow. And Ruby and Jesse too, if they can get away.”
He nods, grinning. “Abby’s already going home for the holiday, so she’ll be there. And the rest of my family lives in or near London, so they should be able to make it on short notice.”
I brush invisible dirt from my hands. “Done. How easy was that?”
He pulls me close and kisses me deep and sweet. “So easy. Almost as easy as getting you into the sack.”
I laugh against his lips. “What can I say? When it comes to you, I just can’t say no, mister.”
“A fact I am grateful for every day,” he murmurs.
And then he proves it, confirming he’s the best boyfriend—and soon to be husband—ever.
Really. Ever.
I’m not competitive about many things these days, but of this I’m quite certain. West is the very best, and I can’t wait to promise him my always and forever.
Epilogue
Later
* * *
Joan the cat
* * *
Cats are good at a great many things— Looking fantastic literally all the time. Lazing in the sun. And sussing out people’s true natures.
I excel at all of the above. I take impeccable care of my coat, I bask in the windows on bright, clear days, and I know exactly who is worthy of my love.
The woman who cares for me, of course.
Her devotion is unparalleled, and I make it my business to purr for her at least once a day. Twice, if she’s exceptionally attentive.
I confess, however, that I have a suspicious heart. I tend to think the worst of humans until they prove themselves.
Lately, however…
Well, the red-haired woman who also likes to be petted by my person is growing on me. She and her mate with the funny accent, both. Red finally seems to have grasped that cats don’t always want to be touched.
Perhaps her mate taught her…
I brush up against him now, treating him to a rub of my haunches against his legs, which he acknowledges with a respectful, “Thank you, gorgeous,” without reaching so much as a finger in my direction.
Yes, he’s a good one.
I also rather like my person’s other friend. The young man with the finely brushed fur on his head. He looks at me with a pleasing mix of wariness and admiration that, frankly, all humans would do well to emulate.
He seems happier these days.
Like today.
As my person spreads cards on the table, her young man friend pulls out a chair for a new man. “Pierce, welcome to the James family tradition. Poker Sundays with Gram.”
The new man chuckles. “I’ve been looking forward to this, Harrison. The only thing better than meeting, dating, and falling in love with an exceptionally witty and good-looking book editor was learning he has a card shark for a gram.”
“We’ll see if you still think that way after I take all your chips,” my person teases.
The entire table laughs and sets to playing and eating obscene amounts of pie.
But, this time, Red brought me a small, chicken liver pie of my own to devour, so I’m not jealous of their treats.
I am, in fact, feeling very well-fed, pampered, and ready for a nap in the sun. I might even reward Red with a rub against her legs on my way to the window.
Then my person demands, “Since when have you refused a second cup of coffee, Gigi James? What’s up your sleeve this morning? You look like the cat who got the cream.”
I glance up at Red with a sniff. She looks nothing like a cat of any sort; her fur is far too wild and out of order. But I catch her exchanging glances with her mate.
“Tell them,” he says. “We won’t be able to keep it a secret much longer anyway. Not with two of them in there.”
“Two of them.” My person presses a hand to her chest as she gasps in delight. “You don’t mean…
”
“We’re pregnant,” Red says, beaming at the humans around the table. “Twins.”
The gathering erupts into raucous cries and cheers.
I take advantage of the commotion to jump onto the china cabinet and settle in for a nap while my person is too distracted to fret that I’ll break one of her fancy vases.
As they continue to celebrate, I drift off with a satisfied sigh, knowing I’ll wake in my person’s arms—she always gathers me up for a cuddle after she finds me sleeping where she thinks I shouldn’t.
I look forward to it.
And to a few pieces of her leftover pie crust.
Yes, it’s a good day to be a cat.
Much like every other.
Thank you for reading Gigi and West’s love story! You can find the other standalone romances in the Good Love series everywhere!
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Sexy Flirty Dirty Romantic Comedies
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Co-written Standalones
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Contact
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