Page 203 of Hexed
“Enzo, hello?” she snips, her footsteps faltering. “You can’tnotanswer me when I can’t see either. It freaks me out.”
Chuckling, I bend down slightly and press a kiss to the nape of her neck. “I’m sorry, piccola sirena. I know you hate them, but I don’t.”
Her bottom lip sticks out, and I have to bite back the urge to suck it into my mouth.
Focus, Enzo. Don’t fuck this up.
“You’re supposed to hate everything I hate.” She pouts. “I thought that was a perk of being in a relationship.”
“I could never hate the day you were brought into the world, baby,” I reply. “You just have to trust me.”
I prod her back until she starts walking again, and then, right before we get to the base of the Sea Wheel, her face screws up, sniffing the air. “Are we in Atlantic Cove? It smells like it.”
Lightly, I smack her ass before gripping it in my palm, and then I let her go and take a few steps back, looking around.
My heart’s kicking steadily but quickly against my rib cage, yet it isn’t because of my fear of heights.
It’s because of what else I’m about to do.
I’ve paid a generous amount of money to the city so the entire place would be closed to the public for the night. Not difficult to do when your woman is one of the most influential people in all of Atlantic Cove, even if her reputation isn’t the nicest.
The Sea Witch, they call her.
Her uncle’s protégé through and through.
She doesn’t seem to mind the nickname. Besides, it’s not like she’s the one down here running the actual business anyway. She leaves the day-to-day stuff to Bas.
It’s a beautiful evening, the sun having just set, and the clear sky opening up to millions of stars twinkling and the moon bathing us in its glow.
The second Venesa commented that her birthday fell on the full moon this year, I knew it was my moment. I remember her talking about how she’d only get married under one. Something about it representing balance and harmony or some froufrou shit.
We’re not getting married tonight, but…
Close enough.
Scotty went to that store A Rose by Any Other Name and picked up hundreds of white daisies and said he decorated the area himself. He did a good job—they’re lining the makeshift picket fence that surrounds the Sea Wheel, and then overflowing vases of them are perched all along the perimeter. He also set upgiant clusters of rose quartz crystals and white candles, just to set the mood entirely.
“Okay,” I say, my voice surprisingly shaky. “You can take off the blindfold.”
One thing I’ve learned is that life is never certain. Someone can spend their entire life searching for success, for happiness. Waste countless hours away from people they love, constantly searching for some unattainable thing that, in the end, won’t really matter.
And then in one second—or in my case, one look—everything can change.
I looked at Venesa and my world tilted on its axis, altering my view forever.
There is one thing I’m certain of: her.
She’s the only thing that matters.
Venesa reaches up, ripping off the fabric quickly, her back straightening when she realizes where we are and that there’s no one else here. Her head tilts from side to side, and she slowly spins around.
I drop to my knees, gripping the ring I had custom made tight in my hand.
“I knew we were here. I could tell by the smell.” She laughs as she’s turning, and then her eyes meet mine, and they widen as she takes me in. “Enzo, what are you?—”
She looks around again, her eyes taking in the display, and she grips at her seashell necklace, her mouth popping open as her gaze locks on me again.
“What is this?” she asks, her voice wavering, her eyes wide and soft as they stare at me.
