She sat up. “When—oh. That night at Neon. You watched me?”
“I did. You were beautiful, dancing for the joy of it. That’s when I knew.”
“Knew what?”
“That I wanted you.”
“Oh. I wanted you long before that.”
“I know.”
“You do?”
“Bella, you weren’t exactly subtle.”
She laughed. “I know. Chris told me I might as well have been wearing a…” She trailed off and put her head back on his shoulder. “Never mind.”
She was doing well overall; strangely, Mills’ death seemed to have restored her, her grief finally breaking through whatever dam she’d built up in her head. She mourned the friend she’d lost. The secret of Chris Mills’ death would die with him. Nick’s part in that death was business, and she didn’t want to know about his business. Knowing that had made him rest easier with his secret. But her loss was no less real and alive.
Holding her close, thinking about the day, the way she’d become a part of his family, the way she made him more a part of his own family, the way she made him more a part of his own life, he decided he couldn’t wait.
“Marry me, bella.”
Her hand had been caressing his chest again. Now it went still. She didn’t move or speak. He lifted her chin and looked into her eyes. “This isn’t an impulse. You know I’m not impulsive. I’m having a ring made already. But I don’t want to wait to ask. I love you. Marry me. Sposami.”
“Nick…”
That wasn’t the word he’d wanted coming out of her mouth at that moment. He put his thumb over her lips and shook his head. “Don’t tell me no.”
She pulled her head free of his grasp. “I don’t want to tell you no. But I feel like our whole relationship has been about me healing. Do we even know each other? I didn’t even know if you can dance. I don’t know your middle name.”
“That’s not important. Those are things you can learn with one word. No, I can’t dance. Gavino is my middle name. What we know about each other is deeper than that—because of what has happened since we’ve been together.”
She studied him, and he willed her to say the word he wanted. Anger and disappointment were crowding in at the edges of his mind. He’d expected her answer to be yes, quickly and unequivocally. She loved him. She wanted him. She’d just said that she didn’t want to say no. Why would she hesitate?
“What…what about family? We’ve never talked about that. We haven’t talked about where to live or whether to have kids or anything we want about the future. Those aren’t one-word answers.”
“So we’ll talk about that. We’ll talk about it all. But you can answer my question with just one word. Please, bella.” He was not a man who begged, but he said it again. “Please.”
Though night had fallen, he could see tears in her eyes. They glittered in the shine of the party lights strung around the beach. She wasn’t going to give him the answer he needed.
“I can’t answer yet. I need to talk first. I’m sorry.”
Nick knew hurt in that moment greater than he could remember since he was a boy. The hurt brought a wave of anger surging behind it, more than he could safely contain if he let it come on fully.
So he turned it off.
“Okay. It’s time to go.” He set her off his lap.
“Nick, wait.”
“Get your things, Beverly. It’s time to go.”
~oOo~
That night, Nick left Beverly in her apartment and returned to his own. For the first time in months, he would sleep in his own bed. Alone.
He knew she wanted to marry him. If she thought they didn’t know each other well enough, then she was stupid. After all his patience since the attack at the diner, after everything he’d tried to do to help her, she didn’t trust him enough to answer his question in the way they both wanted.
He felt exposed, and he didn’t like that feeling one bit.
It was too early and he was too agitated to sleep, so he took a quick shower, pulled on a pair of sweats, and poured himself a scotch. Then he went out onto his balcony and watched the night ocean. He lit a cigarette and thought his dark thoughts.
Though he lived outside of Quiet Cove, the night was fairly still, and he could hear the faint sounds of Carmen and Theo’s reception—music and laughter carried over the sand. Carmen had teased him for not having fun, but he’d enjoyed the day. He simply wasn’t someone who played. He never had been.