His Ransom 6(21)

“Right before we left for Paris, we had an argument.”

I looked into Jake’s eyes. They shone kindly at me.

“You told me that you felt like you didn’t matter. That I would be fine without you,” he said.

I shook my head, tears burning at the back of my eyes.

“And I realized then that if you did leave, if you ever left, I don’t know what I would do. In my whole life, I never met a woman I could talk to—truly talk to. When you showed up, I couldn’t stop thinking about what it would be like to have you by my side every morning. To spend the day making art with you... making love to you… both at the same time…”

Through the haze of tears, I giggled. I thought of the painting we had done together—making love on the canvas. I’d wanted him so badly then, I’d wanted him to want me. And now, here he was.

“Lacey, I want you with me. I want to spend our nights and days together. I want to travel the world with you and I want to settle down with you. You have brought me such happiness already. Say you’ll stay with me.”

My head was nodding, but my tongue wasn’t working and I could barely stammer the words:

“Yes. Yes, of course!”

I smiled as tears streaked down my cheeks and flung my arms around Jake.

“Put it on first,” he said, holding out the ring.

I tried to breathe in enough air as he slid the golden circle over my finger. It was snug for a moment, and then—

“There.” He lifted my hand and kissed the ring finger. The diamond sparkled brightly even in the moonlight, reflecting the shimmer of the stars in the sky and the river and in Jake’s dazzling green eyes.

“The future Mrs. Jake Carville,” he said.

“Lacey Carville,” I echoed, testing the sound of my new name. It felt strange, very strange. But good, too.

He kissed me and I leaned into him, letting the dizziness overtake me. The air whipped my hair and gown and I felt like I was falling, falling headlong into the most wonderful adventure of my life.



We walked to the stairs.

“No elevator?” I asked.

“We’re not going too far down,” he said.

I twisted the ring on my finger as we stepped down the stairwell. The metal steps clanged noisily under my heels. Jake held me up as we made our way to the floor below us.

“I have one last surprise,” Jake said. He was grinning widely, his teeth white in the moonlight.

“I don’t know if I can handle another surprise,” I said. “But as long as you promise me it’s not skydiving—”

“It’s more of a surprise party,” Jake said, pulling me forward.

Party? I took two steps down onto the next level and stopped dead in my tracks.

“Surprise!”

I brought my hands up over my mouth, but I don’t think anything could have hidden my shock.

My whole family was there, and Steph, and Lucas. My mom was wearing a chic blue dress, and my dad held her hand in his, standing tall and proud in a gray suit.

And then there were my brothers, Tim and Connor. They were all dressed up. I’d never seen Connor in a suit before. Behind them, tables were filled with candles. The light from the flames flickered over their faces.

I squealed and tottered forward in a daze to hug them. Tim and Connor caught me first, and then my parents piled into the mix. It was one big mess of a family, and I was so happy I cried.

“Lacey!”

“I can’t believe it!”

“Congratulations, little sis,” Connor said, his face twisting oddly.

“You guys all knew about this?” I asked.

“Well, I guessed it a week ago,” Lucas chimed in. “I told him he should propose in Paris. I never dreamed he would rent out the damn Eiffel Tower—pardon my French.”

“Your boyfriend flew us all out here,” my dad said, hugging me shoulder to shoulder. “And then he popped the question to me and your mom. And we gave him our blessing.”

I bit my lip, holding back the stream of joyous tears.

“Now let’s eat!” Jake said. “I’m starving!”

The plates filled up with roast duck and shallots sauteed in white wine. Everybody was laughing and talking. I almost forgot that we were standing on top of the Eiffel Tower a few times. Whenever I looked out through the grating, though, I was reminded of how far up we were.

A couple glasses of wine later, I let myself drift away from the stories of childhood in Iowa. I put my hand up against the rail, letting my fingers wave in the air so far above Paris.

“It’s lovely, isn’t it?”

Jake was behind me, whispering in my ear. I smiled, and I leaned my head back against his chest. Always, he would be there for me. Always, he would wrap his arms around me and keep me safe and warm.