Beauty from Surrender (29 page)

"Laurelyn, I once asked you to be mine for three months. Now, I'm asking you to be mine forever."

She opens her mouth to speak and I place my fingers to her lips. "But I don't want your answer right now because you're not ready to say yes. You still need time to spread your wings and fly. I love you with all my heart and I want you to experience everything this life has to offer you because it won't wait. But I will. I'll wait for you as long as it takes, and you can come to me after you've had enough of this life…when you're ready to spend forever with me."

Tears fill her eyes. "You can not do this to me right before you get on a plane to leave."

I hear the last call for my flight to LA, so I flip the ring box open. "When you come to me, I will ask you to be my wife, but until then…" She cups her mouth when she sees the ring. I take her left hand and slide the diamond engagement ring onto her finger. "I know you don't usually wear the ring until you say yes, but I want you to wear this as a reminder that I am waiting for you. Every time you look at it on your finger, know that I'm anxiously looking forward to you coming to me so we can begin our forever together."

Tears spill down her cheeks. "I'm so pissed off at you right now that I can't see straight. I simultaneously love the fuck out of you while I hate your guts. I don't know if I want to slap your face or get naked with you."

"My vote would be for getting naked, but I don't think they'll allow that here in the airport."

"I can't believe you just did this to me."

I'm flirting with missing my flight. "I have to go, baby."

"I know."

"Think of the story we'll be able to tell our kids if you say yes."

She stands at the security point entrance and is sobbing hysterically when I pass the point where I'll no longer be able to see her. It breaks my heart. That's not at all the way I wanted my proposal to happen, but I'm not sorry about it. I know what I'm doing. One way or another, I'm going to have her as my wife.

I have two hours until I board my connecting flight to Sydney. I take my mobile from my pocket and I'm pretty sure I stare at it for ten minutes. I dread making this call and having the talk—our first post-sort-of-proposal conversation. It's only been four hours since I left Laurelyn in Nashville and I'm convinced she's ready to rip me a new one now that she's had time to think about what I did.

I wait for her to answer and realize I'm nervous—like, really fucking nervous. What if she used the last four hours to think about what an asshat I am and decided there's no way in hell she'd ever marry me? I want to hang up. I'm even considering it when I hear her voice.

"You are in so much trouble, caveman."

She called me cavemen. That's a good sign. She can't be too mad if she called me that instead of jackhole, which she uses frequently.

Should I say I'm sorry? 'Cause I'm not, and to do so would be lying. "I don't regret what I did, even if you're angry with me. The only thing I regret is sitting around waiting for the ideal moment to present itself so I could properly ask you to be my wife. That clearly didn't happen and I'm sorry. I wanted it to be a perfect moment because you've not had many of those in your life, but I messed it up like I always do."

"I really want to be naked with you right now."

That sounds promising. "I'd really like that a lot, but I'm willing to accept your answer in its place. I know I told you that I didn't want your response right now, but if it's yes, then you can go ahead and tell me."

"What? And ruin the angst you so deserve to feel? I don't think so, Mr. McLachlan. You give me a proposal like that and you should expect to wait on an answer—for a while."

Uh-oh. That part doesn't sound so good. "So you're punishing me for wanting to marry you?"

"No. I'm punishing you for that fast one you just pulled on me."

I was hoping she would be so thrilled about the whole thing that she'd sort of forget the way I did it. "This isn't much of a way to begin our union. I don't think tit-for-tat is the best strategy for making a marriage work."

"I didn't say I was marrying you."

But she will. I'll see to it. "You didn't tell me you weren't, so until you say otherwise, I'll be waiting anxiously for you to come to me."

"You know, you don't play fair."

Was she ever under the impression that I did? "I believe I recall telling you I always get my way, within reasonable means."

"You put a ring on my finger—which is absolutely stunning, by the way—and teased me with the prospect of being your wife only moments before walking away. You skimmed the surface but you didn't really even ask me to marry you. And all of this you do while I'm experiencing an emotional breakdown because you're leaving. You seriously think that's reasonable?"

"No, but I think it'll get me what I want, which is making you my wife." That's the end result I'm shooting for here. I don't really care how I achieve it.

"You didn't ask me to marry you yet, so I'm not giving you an answer until you propose properly."

She sounds agreeable, so I'm going for it. "Laurelyn, will you please marry me and be my wife?"

"No."

"No?" That wasn't the answer I was expecting.

"Asking over the phone isn't a proper proposal, and I won't answer you until you're on one knee in front of me."

Damn. I should've dropped down to my knee when I gave her that ring. "It's sort of hard to do that when I'm going to be nine thousand miles away."

"I hate it, pal, but a drunk proposal and a phone proposal are both null and void with me."

I wondered if she was ever going to bring up Vegas. "This is the first mention of my drunk proposal."

"So you do remember it?"

How could I forget that epic fail? "Hell yeah, I remember it. I could've kicked my own arse for being so careless with those precious words. You deserve so much better than me getting wasted and telling you to marry me."

"I damn sure do. Therefore, all proposals, drunk or sober, don't count. You've not asked and I've not answered."

I really don't want to go back to Australia like this. "Should I get on a plane and come back now?"

"No. Now isn't the best time to talk marriage with me, buster. I'm still pretty pissed off at you."

I just put a beautiful ring on her finger and told her how much I want her to be my wife, and she's mad at me. This can't be right. "Don't be like that, baby. Think of the thought behind the gesture. I love you and want to be with you forever. Don't let formality or your anger cause you to forget that part."

"I won't."

It's a dirty trick but I'm gonna use it anyway to soften her anger with me. "And think of those babies you long for. I'll give them to you—as many as you wish, whenever you're ready."

"Something tells me you want those babies as much as I do. Half of our conversations seem to revolve around them."

She's right. Something has happened in me and I want them too. "You think so?"

"Are you asking if I think you want them, or do I think we talk about them a lot?"

"Both."

"Then yes to both."

We've talked about kids so this isn't news to her. "I do want them, but only with you."

She makes a sound of frustration. "This makes me so damn mad that we're having this conversation now when we should've had it before you left."

She's right. I feel like such a dumb-arse for holding out for the perfect time. "I'm sorry I waited. I should've asked you the day I bought the ring. I was going to propose when I took you to Oscar's for dinner. I had the ring box in my hand, about to ask, when that reporter walked up to our table."

"I went nuts right at the moment when you were going to ask. I'm sorry."

It's fate. That wasn't the way it was supposed to happen. "It's not your fault," I reassure her.

"I need you to be patient with me."

"Baby, I've waited thirty years for you. I can wait a little longer."

***

I cannot believe Jack Henry did this to me.

He and I aren't ordinary. We never have been—and we never will be—so I'm not sure why I'd expect a normal proposal from him. But he's right about one thing: it'll definitely be a story to tell our kids.

Our kids. Wow. It's beyond the realms of reality to think we've gone from agreeing to a three month sex-a-thon without true identities to contemplating marriage and kids, especially when he was so hell-bent on neither. Should it concern me that he made a complete one-eighty on issues he was so firm about only a few months ago?

I know he loves me, but I'm concerned that he's changed his mind about marriage and kids for the wrong reason. I don't want him basing that on what I want instead of what he wants so he can keep me.

I need someone I can talk to about Jack Henry's proposal. There's only one person worthy of a brutally honest conversation about this, and she's gallivanting around Australia with the love of her life. I look at the clock—it's 10 p.m. her time. I'm definitely calling that slut puppy.

She answers on the third ring with a greeting that isn't all that unfamiliar. "Hello, twat."

It stops becoming a surprise when she says it every time. "Hello, crotch rot. How are things down under?"

I anticipate her reply involving something about going down or getting under Zac.

"I could do a lot with that and say that you walked right into it, but I won't."

That would be a first. "Thanks. I appreciate that."

"So, what's going on with you since the good-looking suit left? Wasn't that going down today?"

She still calls him that. "Yeah. He left about five hours ago."

"Are you okay?"

No, I'm not. It's far shittier than I'd imagined. "I'm not at all fine with being separated from him again."

"Then what's the plan?"

"Addie, he asked me to marry him." I jerk the phone back in anticipation of the scream to follow.

"What!" she yells, as expected. "Tell me everything."

"He told me that he knew I wasn't ready to give up my career, but he'd be waiting for me to come to him when I was prepared to be his wife. He put a ring on my finger. It's an engagement ring—the most beautiful one I've ever seen—and told me it was a reminder of him waiting for me. That's how he left it, but then he called me from LA and asked me over the phone."

"What are you going to do?"

I know what I want to do—drop everything and run to him. I want to beat him to Avalon and be waiting in his bed when he arrives home. "I don't know. That's why I'm calling you. I need your blunt advice."

"I only met the guy a few times and it was under false pretenses. Thank you again for that, by the way."

She isn't going to let me forget that. "I know. Sorry."

"It's difficult to give you advice about a guy I don't know, but here's what I have to go on: he's rich and successful so you'd never have to worry about how he'd take care of you. He's fucking gorgeous, so that's a definite plus. According to what you've told me, the two of you have crazy monkey sex. He gives your vajayjay a lot of special attention and makes you come a lot, so you're good there. We both know that one's a deal-breaker if the sex is terrible. He hired a private investigator to find you, so that proves he wants you bad. He must love you or he wouldn't have proposed. But do you love him enough to marry him?"