Page 92 of Off-Limits
I nod my head, the anxiety pilfering away at his declaration.
“And to answer your other question… I found this place when I was hiking years ago, and it’s been my safe space when I just need to think. I used to bring my swag out here after I left Kerry, hell, even when I was with her.”
I can see he’s uncomfortable bringing her up, so I deflect the conversation in anotherdirection.
“It’s stunning.”
“Not as stunning as you.”
I raise a brow.
“That’s cheesy.”
“Yeah, but you smiled.”
“I did. Now show me what’s in this picnic basket. I’m starving.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
DAMON
Iwish I could live in this moment forever with her.
Dottie lays on the blanket, looking out at the running brook, while kicking her legs in the air after stuffing her face with the fruit and sandwiches I had Johnny pick up this morning. She seems so beautiful and carefree, like nothing can touch her, and I only hope that I can give her this and more for the rest of our lives.
The rest of our lives.
My palms begin to sweat, nerves causing a ruckus inside my body, and I know if I don’t do this soon, I’m going to be a damn wreck. While Dottie is preoccupied, I reach into the picnic basket and retrieve what I had hidden in the bottom of the secret compartment, that would usually be used for phones or whatnot.
Cradling the box in my shaky hands, I playfully kick Dottie’s waving feet to get her attention. She spins around, mock glaring at me, before her eyes land on the black and gold box in my hand.
Sitting up quickly, she eyes it like it might bite her.
“What is that?” she asks, cautiously.
“Open it and find out?” I answer, but it comes out more like a question.
“What are you up to, Sir?”
I glance down at the box and back at her.
With trembling fingers, Dottie reaches out and plucks the box out of my hands like she’s scared the damn thing is going to blow up. With one last lingering and questioning look at me, she starts to untie the purple ribbon.
My heart beats at uneven staccato. I sit back and watch her open the box so damn slowly, I fear my heart is going to burst from my damn chest.
She’s like a leaf on a branch, shaking so much from the wind billowing around it. I want to reach out and comfort her, but I also need her to do this on her own, make the decision for herself because if she accepts this gift, my token of love for her, then all other bets are off the table.
She’s mine.
The lid falls to the ground, the sound like a pagan drum, or perhaps that’s my heart. Her whole body visibly shudders, and for a brief moment, I wonder if I’ve done the wrong thing.
Those damn violet hues flicker up to me, tears clinging at the corner of her eyes, and my heart forgets to beat. She gnaws on her lip and a single tear slips free, making me jealous of how it caresses her skin, right down to where it lands on her lip.
I swallow hard, my body tense and on the verge of breaking, but then she speaks and it kickstarts it into action again.
“Damon… It’s beautiful.”
“You like it?” I rasp.
