Not the Marrying Kind(45)
The incline rose rapidly for five minutes before flattening out, leaving them on a secluded plateau with views to die for: rolling hills dotted in greenery, sloping valleys, and a distant lake.
“Wow.” She shook out the blanket and spread it, waiting for it to settle before plunking down in exhaustion. “You were right, it was worth it for the view alone.”
He didn’t answer and when she glanced up, he was looking at her with the strangest expression—half-fear, half-awe.
“If you’re thinking of proposing, too late,” she said, chuckling at her lame joke.
He didn’t laugh.
Dumping the picnic basket nearby, he knelt next to her and reached into his pocket. When he pulled out a small purple velvet box from one of Vegas’s premier jewelers, her heart backflipped.
“I know you said you didn’t want an engagement ring to add to the phoniness, but I think you should have one.” He raised the lid and her mouth dropped open as sunlight reflected off the exquisite two-carat princess-cut diamond. “Not many women would have the guts to agree to my crazy scheme, let alone marry me, and you deserve this.”
He slid it onto her ring finger where it nestled against the white gold band. “If you don’t want to call it an engagement ring, consider it a thank-you gift for being so damned amazing about this whole marriage thing.”
She gawked at the stunning diamond, wanting to thank him, wanting to make light of their pretend marriage, but when she finally looked at him, the gratitude clogged in her throat.
For in that moment, this marriage felt far from pretend and all too scarily real.
Tenderness lurked in the shadows of his eyes as he lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed the knuckle above the ring. “You’re incredible. I just wanted you to know it.”
Now was the time to make a joke about yesterday, and how this was the sex talking. But he couldn’t have organized this ring since yesterday, not when they’d been wrapped around each other twenty-four-seven, which meant he’d brought the ring with him.
And it held far more value than she’d given him credit for.
She cleared her throat. “Thank you. I love it.”
“Good. Now let’s eat.” Suddenly brusque, he set out the picnic while she hugged her knees to her chest, unable to tear her gaze away from the ring.
It shouldn’t mean so much. That little twist of metal and diamond adorning it signified he felt it, too. A tentative bond fast developing into something deeper—something that terrified her so much she’d rather take a flying leap off this mountainside than acknowledge it.
“Dig in.”
She made a grand show of selecting morsels of ricotta and leek tartlet, char-grilled calamari and salmon terrine, shoving them around her plate. But she could barely eat.
He didn’t call her on it, considering his plate resembled hers after ten minutes.
“Not hungry?” She pointed to his plate while placing hers on the ground.
“Maybe I lost my appetite. You’ve worn me out.” His bashful grin made her heart twist with the same unusual sensation as when he’d slipped the ring on her finger.
“In that case you better eat to keep up your strength.” She scuttled closer to him until their thighs touched. “You’ll need it for later.”
She half expected him to kiss her, maybe strip her and use sex as a way to ease the awkwardness that had descended since he gave her the ring. Instead, he slid an arm around her waist and hugged her tight, leaving her no option but to snuggle.
“I discovered this place my first six months in Vegas.” He wrapped his other arm around her when she rested her head on his shoulder. “The hacienda wasn’t built yet and I needed to escape the city on weekends, so I started exploring. Lake Mead, Hoover Dam, Grand Canyon, here… I scoured every inch.”
“Closet greenie, huh?”
“I like the open spaces. They soothe me.” He paused and she stayed silent, sensing he had more to say. “I lived in a trailer when I was a kid. Then my folks headed to Vegas for a while and we lived in this squalid single-room apartment downtown.”
Beck inclined his head at the view stretching for miles in front of them. “When you live in confined quarters, open spaces become important.”
His honesty made her eyes burn with the sting of unshed tears. She’d never expected him to open up emotionally and hot on the heels of the ring, it was almost too much. An intimacy she hadn’t expected, an intimacy she feared.
“When they OD’d, Pa took me in and while we lived in a trailer, he understood the need for space. He took me hiking and we camped out in the desert, where I’d stare at the stars for hours.”