Page 85 of Grand Love

When I don’t answer, he begins listing things.

“That first night at Melders” —I pop open my eyes— “I had a great time.” He licks his lips and I clench my thighs at the memory. “That night you danced for me. Paris. Bora Bora. I have a ton of good memories.”

I smile thoughtfully. “Paris was one of the best weekends of my life.”

“Where’s your bangle?” he asks out of the blue as if he’s desperate to know. He flicks his eyes from the road to me.

I eye my lap in an attempt to hide my face. “It’s at the apartment. I don’t wear it anymore.”

He nods his head but doesn’t speak.

“You can have it back—”

“No,” he cuts me off, shaking his head with a frown. “No.”

I watch him for a moment, my mind not quite sound. “I thought you were going to propose.”

He flicks his head towards me. “What?”

“In Paris, on the stage, I thought you were going to propose.” I smile, biting my lip as my cheeks flush.

“You did?” Deep lines mar his forehead as his lip twitches. It’s only slight but I don’t miss it.

“Yep. Then you gave me the bangle back and told me about your mum. It’s an incredible memory. I’ll hold on to it forever. That entire evening was like something out of a dream.”

“What would you have said? If I had proposed,” he asks, eyes back on the road.

I swallow my pride and give him my honesty. Because what the hell. “In the moment… I’d have said yes. Without doubt or thought.” My throat goes tight, and my eyes burn, but I can’t look away from his face.

“You would’ve said yes? In fucking Paris?” His lip tips up on one side, and I can’t help but smile with him. “You told me in Bora Bora that you didn’t want to get married.”

He looks over at me in question.

“I wasn’t lying. You sold my studio.” His face drops. “I understand why. I’ve had time to deal with it now. I mean, I forgive you, but I can’t ever forget it.” I shrug. “I don’t dwell on it, and it was Paris, Mason. I’d probably have flown to Vegas that night and got hitched if you’d asked me.” I chuckle, trying to lighten the mood that’s fallen over us.

“You were pregnant in Paris,” he says solemnly, dragging me right back down with him.

I nod, thinking back and wondering how I never noticed. I feel like we missed so many firsts with Ellis. There was no twelve-week scan, no tests, no plans. I stare at the windscreen. “I don’t know how I missed it.”

He nods. “You know, we may be terrible together—apart from when we’re out of the country maybe.” I chuckle at that. “But we sure make fucking cute kids.”

“He’s adorable, right? I feel like I’m biased when I gush about him to people.” I grin.

“Nope, you’re right, he’s going to bring so many angry mothers to our door when he grows up.”

Our door.My heart pounds, begging for the reality of his words.

We pull up outside my apartment building and he parks at the curb, then follows me inside. “Maggie won’t be here yet; she normally gives me a chance to shower after getting back.”

“That’s okay. Do you want me to wait out here?” He thumbs to the small foyer on my floor.

“No, no, come in. I have something for you actually.”

“Yeah?” he asks, sounding surprised.

“You don’t have to have it, but I thought you might like it.” I push open the door and let him in. “I won’t be a sec, wait out here.”

Leaving him in the living area, I go to my room and drop to my knees beside my bed, pulling out the box from under it. I never thought I’d give these to Mason, but I only really took them for his benefit. I suppose I always hoped that one day I’d be in a position to share them with him. I don’t know why I’m giving them to him now, but for some reason I feel like he should have them.

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