Page 41 of Christmas Candy

“Speaking of taking steps.” He cleared his throat.

“What?”

He fumbled in the pocket of his favorite leather jacket and dropped to his knee in front of me.

I brought my hands to my mouth, shock rolling over my like thunder. “Is this—”

“Jessica Louise Shakoor, will you marry me?” He flipped the box open and a dazzling solitaire set in platinum appeared.

My knees turned to jelly and I sank in front of him.

His brows knit in concern and he put a hand on my elbow to steady me. “Jess, you okay?”

“Yes. I just. I can’t. I mean. I don’t even . . .”

His face fell, the smile gone and sadness in its place. He pulled his hand back and was about to close the lid.

“No!” I grabbed his wrist.

“Yeah, I got it.” He dropped his gaze.

“No, I mean yes!”

“What?” The smile crept back into his eyes, his mouth.

“I meant yes. I was just so shocked but yes, a million timesyes.”

He gripped my ass and scooted me toward him before plucking the ring from the box and placing it on my finger. It just fit.

“I can’t believe this.” I put my hands on his cheeks, the ring stunning but nowhere near as captivating as his smile, his eyes.

And then his arms were around my waist. He laid me gently back on the floor and stripped off his jacket and then his shirt. My eyes went right to the ink, to the profession of his love for me buried in his skin. I would have licked it if it were healed.

He pulled my jeans off and tossed them before unbuttoning his fly. He nestled between my legs and, in one swift move, impaled me as I squirmed beneath him.

“Let’s make this official.” He thrust deep into me and I moaned.

“I love you, wildcat.” He stared into my eyes, into my soul, and into the future he’d planned for us.

“I love you, too.”

Jess

“Idon’t know.” I turned this way and that, looking at the dress from every angle.

“It’s perfect.” My Aunt Carrie clasped her hands together in front of her.

Michael’s mother, Evelyn, dabbed at her eyes. She had the same green eyes as Michael, but her hair was an ash blonde with streaks of gray. A beautiful woman, she’d created an equally beautiful son. One I intended to marry in three short months after a three-year engagement.

“That dress was made for you.” Evelyn coughed to try and cover her tears. She was a wonderful woman, strong yet gracious.

I tended to agree with her. I had never been in a more luxurious article of clothing. The dress was white lace at the top with a sweetheart neckline, lace shoulders, and low back. The bottom fluffed out with tulle, but not too much. It was part Grace Kelly, part Cinderella. The price tag would have likely made me queasy, but Michael sent his mother along to ensure that I got exactly what I wanted, no matter the price. The sales people had hidden the tags from me when I ventured through the racks.

As much as I wanted Aunt Carrie and Evelyn to love the dress, all I cared about was whether Michael would love it.

The sales associate walked up and pinched his chin between his bright blue fingernails while eyeing me up and down. He snapped his fingers at an assistant behind him. She scurried away and returned with a tiara and veil.

He climbed up onto the white podium and surveyed me in the wide mirror. “This will set it off perfectly.” Arranging the tiara in my dark hair, he hooked the veil on as well, and let it float down over my face.

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