ALL THINGS PRETTY PART TWO (10 page)

Authors: M. Leighton

Tags: #Part Two

BOOK: ALL THINGS PRETTY PART TWO

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Her sparkling green eyes meet mine and hold them over the spray
of lilies she’s carrying.

She
winks.

I almost laugh out
loud.

She says it drives her crazy
when I do it to her.

Thought she’d
show me. Give me a taste of my own medicine.

My heart fills up to the point of
bursting and I think to myself that as long as I have her, I’ll be all
right.

Better than all right.

We fought for each other, bled for each other, even died a
little bit for each other.

We never
gave up.
Even when it hurt.

And it was worth it.

I always knew it would be.

EPILOGUE- TOMMI

Four months later

I reach up to touch the blindfold around my eyes.

“Where are we going?”

“You’ll see,” Sig says. I can hear the grin in his voice.

I rest my temple against the headrest, facing Sig even
though I can’t see him. I don’t have to be able to see him to recall every
detail of his strong profile.
though
.

Everything about him, even when I can’t
see him, oozes strength and power.

Protectiveness and possessiveness.

After Lance, I never thought I’d like
that in a man, but Sig isn’t just any man. He’s
my man.

And all that is
for me.

Because
he loves me.

That makes all
the difference in the world.

The verdict was handed down on Lance Tonin today.

Guilty on all counts.

He was convicted on drug charges that
Chaps and Trip’s brother, Davey made stick (all with the help of Travis’s
testimony). He was convicted of several of a mixed bag of other felonies like collusion,
conspiracy to commit murder, obstruction of justice and a whole slew of other
goodies they discovered that Lance was involved in.

For all of that, he’ll be going to prison
for the rest of his life.

At least.

Sentencing is next week, but my body didn’t wait for that to fully
relax.

From the moment that Sig
swept me off my shaky legs in the courthouse parking lot, I’ve felt free.

Finally.

Fully.

Free.

The truck slows and Sig cuts the engine.

“I’m coming around,” he announces and
then I hear the door open and close. I wait, a happy little smile playing with
the edges of my lips, until I hear him open my door.

“Come on, beautiful. I’ve got something
to show you.”

He scoops me up, cradled against his chest, and carries me
until I feel him dip down, one hand messing with something. I hear a key slide
into a lock and a knob jiggle as it turns.

A thrill of anticipation ripples down my spine.

I can only hope that wherever he’s
taking me is private.

Very private.

The smell of polyurethane assails me. Sig’s footfalls echo
as he walks, making a light tapping sound.

I can almost picture the hardwoods beneath us. The acoustics change from
hollow and empty to cozy and muted, as though we’ve entered a smaller or fuller
room.

Sig sets me on my feet.

The heels of my shoes sink into plush carpeting.

“Where are we?”

“Home.”

“Home?”

Moving around me, Sig
stops
at my
back and gently unties my blindfold, dragging it away from my face.

“Yes, home,” he whispers at my ear from
behind me.

It takes my eyes a few seconds to adjust, but when they do,
my mouth drops open in awe.

I’m
standing in the center of a big, beautifully appointed master suite.

The carpet is cream, the walls are sand
and the enormous king-sized bed is covered in a thick apricot duvet.

Pillows in shades of peach and rust and
chocolate are piled high toward the head and a luxurious mink throw is draped
over one corner.

On the windows are
dreamy sheers and on the mahogany chest and dresser that matches the bed are
candles of every size and shape.

The
flickering tips bathe the room in a warm, romantic glow and play over a beautiful
painting that hangs above the bed.

It’s of a woman, sitting on a delicate stool in front of a vanity,
brushing her golden hair. Her face is visible in the oval of the mirror.

The reflection is mine.

My face.

I turn to Sig.

“Sloane?”

His lips quirk.

“Who else? You know
I
didn’t paint it. Or decorate in here.”

“It’s beautiful,” I breathe, awestruck.

Turning, I reach up to wrap my arms
around Sig’s neck. “Where
are
we?” I
ask again.

“I told you.

We’re home.

If you want it
to be, that is.”

“Did you buy this place?”

“I did.

It’s the
house they were building near my sister’s neighborhood, the one where you said
you could imagine kids playing in the yard.”

I can perfectly recall the house he’s speaking of, with its
gabled roof and picket fence.

“Y-you bought it?

For us?”

“I bought it for you.”

“But why? Why would you do that?

Do you even
like
this place?”

“Honestly, I could care less. It’s a house.

It won’t be a home until you’re
here.

But now?”

He looks around at the room, his eyes
straying to the picture above the bed, the one of me.

“Now, I can’t think of anywhere else I’d
rather be.”

I gnaw on my lip as I think of what this could mean and of
how I might screw it up.

But then I
feel a finger tug at my lip, freeing it from the prison of my teeth.

“What?” I ask when I see Sig staring
down at me.

“Stop worrying.”

“I’m not worrying.”

“You
are
worrying.”

I sigh.

There’s
just no hiding things from a cop. There’s just not.

“It’s so beautiful here, but what
about…what about…”

I hate to even ask about my brother. Somehow it feels like
foisting unwanted responsibility on Sig. I mean
,
it’s
different when it’s
me
taking care of
Travis.
In
my
house
with
my
money.

But
this
would
be
us
taking care
of him
.

“It has a finished basement.

All for Travis.

A gaming-obsessed teenager’s wet dream.”

At his words, a lump forms in my
throat.

I didn’t even have to ask.
He’d already thought of my brother.

“And it’s closer to your mom, too.”

My mom. My brother.

My dream house.
Sig has thought of
everything.

I blink back tears.

“It’s perfect, Sig.

Just
perfect.”

“Well, almost.”

Slowly, Sig sinks to one knee in front of me.

He reaches inside his pocket and removes
a tiny velvet box that makes my heart flutter in my throat.

“For weeks after Mom died, I’d wake up in the middle of the
night feeling like I couldn’t breathe.

I’d sit up in bed and gasp until my lungs felt like they were working
again.

And then I’d cry myself back
to sleep. I never went to Dad.

I
knew he was more lost than I was.

I
promised myself then that I wouldn’t fall in love, that I wouldn’t give anybody
that kind of power over me.

The
night that I held you in my arms, blood all over both of us, I felt the same
way. Like I couldn’t breathe.

I realized
then that it’s you who keeps me breathing.

Since the day I met you, you’ve had the power to hurt me, to devastate
me, to destroy my world if you leave it, but you’ve also kept me breathing.”

“Sig, I–”

“Tia Lawrence,” he interrupts, “will you marry me?

Will you stay with me, in this house, in
this life, until the day I die?

Will you keep me breathing until there’s no breath left in me?

Because I can’t think of a life worth
living if it doesn’t have you in it.”

“Sig, you–”

“I love you.
More than a thousand
dictionaries could define
,
I love you
.

Please say yes.”

I laugh.

“Are
you
gonna
give me a chance to answer you?”

His grin is lopsided and adorable and everything that I love
about him, all summed up in a smile.

“I guess.”

I drop to my knees in front of him, brushing aside the box
so that I can press my chest to his.

We are
eye to eye
, nose to nose, heart to
heart.

“Yes.

That is my answer to everything you
could ever ask me. Yes.

Yes, I will
marry you.

Yes, I will keep you
breathing. Yes, I will live here with you.

You are my dream.
My only dream.

Your love, your kiss,
your
touch–you are everything I will ever need and more than I could’ve hoped
for.

I will follow you wherever you
go.

Until
both of us
stop breathing.”

He watches me quietly, intently.

“I have one more question.”

His voice is low and hoarse.

Raw.

“What’s that?”

“Slow or rough?”

I see the wicked glimmer light the warm brown of his eyes,
turning them golden in the flicker of the candles.

“Slow,” I answer, pressing my mouth to
his.

“And then rough.”

His tongue slips out to trace my bottom lip as he unbuttons
my blouse.

“One more question,” he
says, pushing the material from my shoulders and setting to work on the clasp
of my skirt.

“Anything,” I say, arching my neck when his lips start to
skim along my jaw.

Sig nudges my
skirt and panties down to the bend of my legs, leaving me in only my bra,
kneeling in front of him.

His hand
slides up the outside of my leg, curving toward my groin at the last
minute.

When his finger finds my
core, I let out the breath I’d been holding.

“
Wh
-what was
your question?” I prompt, knowing I won’t be thinking clearly for too much
longer.

“Can I put a baby in you?”

His finger moves within me and I’m filled with a gush of
desire that’s perfectly blended with unimaginable glee.

A breathless laugh escapes my lips.

“Well?” he asks, licking at my nipple through the thin lace
of my bra.

“I thought I told you my answer to anything you asked me was
‘yes’.”

I feel his lips curve against my breast and my heart
soars.

“That’s what I was hoping
you’d say.”

THE END

Dear Reader,

Music is a big part of this
book.

Songs are often referenced in
my work, and many have played a big part in setting the emotional tones of
certain scenes.

If you enjoy
listening to playlists or would like to know which tunes helped inspire this
novel, here is the link to my playlists on
Spotify
.

If you
don’t have
Spotify
, here are the songs for this book
in list form: