“Serena mine,” he murmured, holding his hand out to her.
She rushed forward, taking his hand and dropping to her knees beside his chair. She rubbed her face over his leg, closing her eyes as his fingers tangled in her hair.
“No, love, you’re going to hurt your knees. The stone is too hard and rough for you out here.”
She shook her head. Knees? What knees? All she could feel was his love, wrapping securely around her, holding her when she couldn’t hold herself.
“Come here,” he said quietly, pulling her into his lap.
When she was settled against his chest, he stroked her long hair from her face with gentle fingers.
“What’s wrong, Serena?”
She expelled her breath in a quivering rush and smiled. “I love you. Do you know that, Damon? Do you know how much?”
He looked stunned by her announcement. His pupils flared, and his fingers stilled in her hair.
“I know. I hope I know.” He pressed his lips to her forehead, and she could feel him trembling against her. “I love you too, Serena mine. So damn much, I ache.”
She pulled away and caught his hand, pulling it from her hair to cradle it between her palms. For a moment she studied their entwined hands thinking of all the times she was bound to him, for him, only this time it was her doing the binding. She was in control.
When she looked back up at him, he was studying her with those deep brown eyes. Dropping his hand, she leaned forward, putting her palms against his face.
“Will you marry me, Damon? Will you be my husband and my lover for the rest of our lives?”
His eyes widened. First shock and then joy flooded them so warm and vibrant that tears clogged her throat, burning and squeezing. If she’d had any reservations, any concerns, they vanished as she saw his relief. Had he been so worried she wouldn’t marry him?
“Yes,” he said solemnly. “I’ll marry you, Serena mine. Anytime, anywhere. I don’t care as long as you’ll be mine.”
She brought her lips to his, kissing him hungrily. Then she wrapped her arms around him and hugged him fiercely, content to just hold on and feel his strength, and his love.
“I don’t want to wait,” she whispered against his neck.
“Then we won’t wait,” he said simply.
“I want to be yours.”
“You’re already mine, Serena. No ceremony or lack thereof will ever change that. You’ll always, always be mine.”
She smiled and squeezed him a little tighter. “We need to call your mom. And mine. She and Dad will want to fuss.” She pulled away and sat up to look him in the face. “I don’t want a fuss but I don’t want to disappoint my mom either. Maybe we could compromise and keep it small, just friends and immediate family.”
He cupped her cheek in his palm and smiled lovingly at her. “Do you know how happy you’ve just made me? Are you sure, Serena? You seemed to have doubts before. I want you to be sure this is what you want. I won’t push you for more. You know that.”
“I do know. Oh, Damon, I love you so much.”
“It figures you would catch me so unprepared,” he said ruefully. “The ring I’ve carried everywhere with me over the last weeks is sitting upstairs in the drawer of my dresser.”
“We can get it later. All that matters right now is you and me.” She squirmed with excitement on his lap. “I’m getting married. Holy hell, that’s scary!”
He administered a light smack to her hip. “Marrying me should not be in the least bit scary. You should be swooning with joy.”
She grinned. “Okay, I’ll stand up and swoon but if you don’t catch me, I’m going to kick your ass.”
“I’d rather carry you upstairs, tie you to my bed and make love to you all afternoon long. Then maybe I’ll let you up so we can call our families.”
“And they say romance is dead,” she murmured as she closed her mouth over his.
Somewhere between the melancholy and the ass kicking, Julie’s self-disgust overpowered everything else. Which was good, because there was only so much wallowing she could take.
Yeah, Damon and Serena hit her hard, but they were Damon and Serena. Julie was … well, she was Julie. Looking at someone else’s relationship for the answers was like reading about a romance novel hero and expecting to find a carbon copy in real life.
Smart women didn’t do either. And above all, she was a smart woman.
After boiling in a bathtub for the better part of the afternoon, she applied fourteen different types of girly garb, painted her toenails, did all the waxing she could reach and went digging through her freezer for some Blue Bell Homemade Vanilla ice cream.