Page 83 of Sunrise Arrows

I cup his face, my smile stretching so wide it’s hurting my cheeks, and soothe, “I’m sorry, baby.”

He puts his hand over mine and leans into my touch, bright green eyes staring unwaveringly into mine. “You’re worth it, Tinsley. You’re worth everything to me. All parts of you, all the time. I just needed time and help getting myself together so I can be worthy of you.”

“You already were.”

“No,” he says, shaking his head. “I wasn’t. I wanted to be, but I wasn’t. But I’m workin’ on it and I’m gonna be everything you need. Whether we’re in Berry Falls, L.A., or Paris. I’ll be exactly who you need and love you how you need because you deserve nothin’ less than that.”

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small, worn, black box that I haven’t seen in ten years. Opening it up, he says, “I had other plans for how I was going to do this but?—”

“Yes!” I accept at an ear splitting level, throwing my arms around him and kissing him. “Yes, yes, a hundred, million times yes, Archer.”

He slips the antique diamond onto my finger, watching me as he kisses where it rests. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Behind us, a bottle of champagne pops and Briar squeals, clapping her hands. “Let me see!” She takes my hand and compliments, “Beautiful. Seriously, it’s stunning.”

“Thank you.”

“Okay, so wedding plans. What are we thinking? More importantly when?”

“Winter,” Archer and I answer together. “She always wanted to get married at Christmas.”

“LikethisChristmas?”

I glance up at Archer as he stands, hand raised to keep himself from hitting his head on the cabin’s ceiling. Once he’s safely up, he takes my hand in one of his and the open champagne bottle and two flutes in the other and begins leading me to the back of the plane. “If she can have everything she wants for this Christmas, yes.”

“Shit, I need to get to work,” Briar replies, instantly in planner mode.

We’re sliding the door closed when John calls out, “Seatbelts for take off and landing!”

In the room, Archer gently places the crystal flutes inside a cabinet and locks it. Then drinking straight from the bottle, he pushes me onto the bed, and climbs up with a knee on either side of my thighs, trapping me beneath him.

Another sip and his hand comes to my throat, securing my already riveted attention. There’s a small squeeze at my pulse and I’m following his hand up so I’m leaning back on my elbows.

One more sip—his eyes darkening as he watches me—and Archer leans down and kisses me, passing the champagne from his mouth to mine.

“It’s an eighty minute flight from here to Paris. How many times do you think I can make that pretty pussy of yours weep for me?”

Falling back flat on the bed, I start to peel his shirt off me, my bare breasts stealing his attention.

“Let’s find out, Superman.”

Epilogue

TINSLEY

7 MONTHS LATER

“Tinsley,baby, it’s not going up.”

“It has to,” I cry. “Get Mikey and John—maybe they can force it up.”

“No, no, no, no,” Briar cuts in. “There will be no, ‘forcing it up.’ Do you not remember the Crisco incident?”

I look up at the ceiling and dramatically pout for a second before pulling the zipper back down and letting the stunning white gown the designer was paying me to wear crumple. I step over it in my heels and go to an armchair in the hotel suite where I collapse in a heap like the gown.

Hand on my lower stomach that was supposed to be sucked in by the highly practical and equally unsexy shapewear, I glance up at my husband and accuse, “This is your fault. I should not be showing yet.”

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