Gathering of Angels(18)

“I’m sorry, love.” Letting go, he squeezed between the seats and joined her on the narrow bench seat. She was already turning into him when he wrapped his arm around her. “I miss her, too. She left quite an impression.”

Annie let out a watery laugh. “That’s Claire. Impossible to forget. You know what I liked most about her? I could never put one over on her. No one ever saw me, just the smart mouth. But she got me, completely. I don’t want her to be dead—Marcus thinks that’s why I’ve been having the dreams. I can’t figure out why they just stopped.”

“You won’t want to hear this, but maybe the part of you that has been hanging on, the part causing the dreams, is ready to let go.”

With a sigh, she curled into him. “I’m just so tired, Eric. Tired of missing her, tired of being pissed at her for lying to me, tired of trying to live the same life. It shattered the minute she fell into that void. I don’t want to pick up the pieces anymore, and constantly rearrange them.”

“Sounds like you’re ready to start over.” He didn’t plan on doing it this soon, but it felt right. Letting her go, he reached into his jacket and pulled out a small black box.

Annie jerked backward, one hand covering her mouth. “Oh, God.” When he opened the box she dropped her head into her hands, her shoulders shaking. “Oh, God—”

“Hey.” Appalled that he made her cry, Eric leaned in, brushed his hand over her blonde curls. “Annie, it’s okay—”

She lifted her head, and he blinked. She was laughing. “I’m sorry—it’s not—” She cleared her throat, caught his hand when he started to put the box away. “No, you don’t. This may not be the scenario I had in my head for the most important moment of my life, but with you, it’s the right one. The answer’s yes.”

Eric smiled, relief spreading through him. “I haven’t asked the question.”

“Details.” She held out her hand. “Give.”

“Not until I ask.”

“You don’t—”

He pressed one finger to her lips, enjoying the surprise that flared in those warm brown eyes. “I have been rehearsing this for days, and I am going to ask.” He traced his finger across her lips, then slid his hand up and cradled her cheek. “You came into my life when I thought I had nothing to live for, and made me realize I still did.” Letting out a shaky breath, he flipped open the box, the sapphire and amethyst ring sparkling against the black velvet. “I don’t remember what my life was like before I met you, and I don’t want a life without you.”

He turned the box, watched her eyes widen as she caught sight of the ring. They moved up to his face, tears making them luminous in the single overhead light.

“Eric—”

“I sold the clinic.”

One hand covered her mouth. “You didn’t—Eric, you love that clinic, all the animals you’ve treated for years—”

“I can open another one. It’s a good bet people have pets in Santa Luna.” He took her hand, eased it down so he could see her face. He needed to see her face when he spoke the next words. “Marry me, Annie.”

She nearly gave him a concussion when her enthusiastic embrace knocked him into the low ceiling. Her gentle kiss left him craving more—and eased the ache that hovered just below his heart since he left her behind.

“I’d say yes just to get that ring.” He laughed, leaning in for another kiss. She laid her hand on his chest, pushing him against the seat. “But the fact that I love you like crazy makes it even better.”

With those few words the ache disappeared.

He pulled the ring out of the box, lifted her left hand and kissed her ring finger. Annie let out a sigh, her fingers trembling in his grasp. When he slid the ring on her finger she leaned in until her forehead touched his, one fingertip brushing over the sapphire.

“It’s perfect. And it’s mine now—you’re not getting it back. Ever.”

“I’m good with that.” He framed her face. “I love you, Annie Sullivan. Now,” he kissed her. “And always.”

She crawled into his lap, wrapped her arms around his neck. “I’m good with that.”

Eric felt her kiss all the way to his toes, a slow, spreading warmth that thawed the icy grip of grief. He would miss his sister Katelyn every day for the rest of his life, but Annie made carrying that grief easier. Gave him the possibility of joy, laughter, healing.

She let out a low moan when he deepened the kiss, plastered herself against him, hands finding their way under his shirt to bare skin—