Page 159 of The Worst Best Man
Frankie took a deep breath and took the plunge.
“I let you down, Aiden. And I’m having trouble forgiving myself.”
“And you think me giving you a job will make you feel better?” he asked in confusion. He didn’t even sound angry. But she had to appeal to all of him, starting with the successful entrepreneur driven to win at all costs.
“You need me, Aiden. And damn it, I need you. Not your money. Not your family connections. You.”
He was watching her intently now, and she watched him back, noticed him carefully hide the spark of hope behind those cool blue eyes.
“You’re thoughtful. You listen, really listen. You’re smart and charming and funny and surprisingly sweet. You’re so fucking generous I worry that you’re going to get hurt.”
She couldn’t catch her breath. The words were spilling faster and faster from her lips. She reached into her bag and her fingers closed around the next part of her plan.
“No one’s ever touched me the way you do. No one’s ever loved me the way you do. And I’ve never loved anyone the way I love you.” Her voice broke, and she saw his knuckles whiten as he closed his hands into fists.
With a shaky breath, she pushed herself out of her chair and walked around his desk on jelly legs. She knelt down in front of him and held up the jeweler box.
His face gave nothing away, so she popped the lid of the box revealing the simple gold band. “It was my grandfather’s,” she whispered. “It’s nothing fancy. But it’s family, loyalty, love. And I can give you all that. So marry me, Aiden. Be with me. Give me forever.”
She held her breath and blinked back the tears that were threatening to overflow her lashes.
“What about Chip and Pru?” he asked, staring at the band.
“The truth is, I had more trouble forgiving myself than I did you. I was looking for an excuse to end it, to be right, because I didn’t want to get hurt. And I ended up hurting us both. Also, Pru called me the Upper West Side version of a chicken shit, and I hate when she’s right.”
She saw the ghost of a smile play at the corners of his mouth, and her heart sang with hope.
“What about my family?” he asked. “They’ll always be a problem.”
“I have a feeling there will be less drama. I’ve discovered that I fit in quite well with manipulative backstabbers.”
“You’re going to have to explain that cryptic statement,” he said, reaching for her, his hands closing over her wrists. He stood, pulling her to her feet.
“First, answer me, please. Then I’ll tell you anything you want. Will you marry me, Aide? Will you take me as I am? Forgive me for being stubborn and proud and so very, very wrong? Because, damn it, Aiden, you fit in my life like you’re the missing piece. I can fit into yours, too. I want you for an ally, a partner. I was wrong to hold back, wrong to be looking for a way out. And I’m so fucking sorry. But I promise you from this day forward, I will be your partner, and we can build something beautiful together. And I swear to you I will always, always, have your back.”
She was shaking, with love, with fear, with hope.
Aiden nudged her chin higher and looked her in the eyes.
“We can’t both be chicken shits, now can we?”
“Aide, if you don’t give me a yes or a no right now, I swear to God I’m going to ruin your life like I just ruined your brother’s.”
He grinned down at her, the full wattage that made her weak in the knees.
“It’s always been yes with you, Franchesca. There is no one I’d rather have in my corner.”
“Yes?” she repeated.
He nodded. “Yes, and the sooner, the better.”
“Well, we don’t need to movetoofast,” she began, feeling hesitation rush up.
“You got down on both your knees—”
“I can’t get down on one knee in this dress! You’d have been looking at my hooha during my very sweet and inspiring speech!”
He was laughing now and lifting her off the ground. She felt him hard against her hip and went quiet. Her brain shifted gears into sexy time.
