I love this romantic side to my man. Things are better than ever between us since we cleared the air last weekend. He calls every day to speak to me and Rowan, and he has made a big effort to tell me about his day, letting me know what is going on in his world. Flowers have arrived daily, along with more cupcakes, and if he keeps this up, I will have enough to open a florist shop.
I’m glad we resolved things and that our relationship is back on track. Ben explained there was one other thing he was keeping from me but he needed to have a conversation with someone else first. He promised he would update me as soon as he could. I’m curious as to what it is, but I’m placing my trust in him, so I’ve put it out of my mind for now.
My long red silk gown swishes against my body as I sit, and I’m glad I took his instructions to dress up seriously. Natalia arrived unexpectedly this afternoon, and she helped to style my hair in smooth glossy waves and to apply a full face of makeup that looks subtle despite how heavy it feels. She is babysitting Rowan while we are indulging ourselves on the roof. Not that there is a need for it as Alesso would have been happy to read him his bedtime story. I think Natalia wants to visit more often now Angelo’s days are numbered, and I can understand that.
Ben pours two glasses of Cristal Champagne, handing one to me before he takes his seat. “To us,” he says.
I clink my glass against his. “To the future.”
We chat casually over a sumptuous dinner handed to us by a few of his trusted staff, sneaking kisses in between courses and more glasses of champagne.
“Oh my God.” I rub a hand over my belly. “I’m not sure I can fit dessert in. If I eat any more, I might burst.”
“We can share,” he says, handing one of the plates back to the waitress. “That will be all, Miranda. We would like privacy now.” He slides the plate of decadent chocolate cake in between us, as his staff slips out of the marquee, leaving us entirely alone.
“Open,” he says, raising a forkful of cake to my mouth.
I let him slip the delicious cake into my mouth, groaning as my tastebuds explode with the rich, spicy, chocolatey goodness. “Damn, that’s good,” I say, when I’ve finished eating, fluttering my eyelashes at him. “Almost as good as sex.”
“That had better be a joke,” he growls, fidgeting in his seat.
I lean in, brushing my chocolate-coated lips against his mouth. “You know it is.” Warmth creeps up my neck, plopping onto my cheeks, as I recall our nocturnal activities last night.
Sex with Ben just keeps getting better and better, and I’m insatiable for him. Did I mention how fuckable he looks in his black Prada tux? Or how edible he is with that sexy layer of scruff on his face and his dark hair tumbling in silky waves over his brow, demanding to be touched? “On that note,” I add, rubbing my hand up and down his thigh over his pants. “Why don’t we skip the cake, and you can have me for dessert?”
“Hold that thought,” he says, suddenly looking nervous. His chair scrapes as he pushes it back before dropping to one knee in front of me.
My mouth turns dry, and my heart jackhammers furiously in my chest. Oh my God. Butterflies scatter in my tummy as adrenaline courses through my veins.
He pops open a box, displaying the most perfect platinum engagement ring. The center diamond is circular, encased by a curved band of glistening emeralds shaped like a flower, and while it isn’t huge, it’s not small either. It’s pretty and delicate and exactly what I would choose for myself.
“I realized recently that I went about things all wrong,” Ben says, peering up at me. He is shielding nothing, and emotion radiates from his every pore. “You are so beautiful and so precious to me, and you deserve to have everything you have ever dreamed about, starting with choice.” His Adam’s apple bobs in his throat.
“I never want to assume anything, especially when it comes to something as important as our marriage.” He takes the ring out of the box. “I love you, Firefly. I love you more than I can express. You have this innate light that fills the world with glorious sunshine. No one is immune. You touch every person with your goodness and your big heart, and I am honored to share the most precious little boy with you. More than that, for some reason, you have deemed me worthy of a role in your life, and I promise to never take that for granted. I promise to honor, worship, protect, and cherish you in this life and the next.”
He clears his throat, looking more scared than I have ever seen him. “Don’t cry, baby,” he says, wiping tears from my cheeks.
“I didn’t realize I was,” I choke out. “But I assure you these are happy tears.”
That seems to bolster his courage. “I love you, and I love Rowan, and I would be honored if you agreed to be my wife. Marry me, Firefly. Because you want to spend your life with me and you want us to be a family.” He pauses for a moment, and his chest heaves with potent emotion. “Marry me for love not necessity.”
“Yes, Ben!” I fling my arms around him. “Yes, I will marry you. Nothing would make me happier.”
He pulls me to my feet, lifting me up and swinging me around. “I love you.” He peppers my face with kisses, and my heart is so full it feels like I’m soaring through the sky. “And I don’t want to wait,” he adds, placing my feet back on the ground. He slides the ring on my finger, and it’s a perfect fit. “It seems like I’ve waited forever to call you my wife.”
“I know the feeling,” I agree, snuggling into his embrace. “I’ve dreamed of this moment since I was thirteen.”
“What about Thanksgiving?” he asks. “Could we pull it off by then?”
It’s only a little over three weeks away, but it’s doable. “If we keep it small, we can.”
He frowns, as if he hadn’t thought about that. “I don’t want to deprive you of anything. If you want a big society wedding, we can wait.”
I quirk a brow. “I thought you knew me?” I tease, running my hands up his suit jacket, enjoying the solidity of his chest under my palms.
“I do, Firefly.” He kisses the tip of my nose, smirking because he loves that he got his way. “Thanksgiving it is.”
44
BEN
“I thought the next time we’d see my family was at our wedding,” Sierra says, as we sit in the back seat of the SUV en route to the funeral in Glencoe. Leo is driving, and we have Alessandro with us. Ciro and three of my other soldiers are following in another armored vehicle. I’m not taking any chances, and if I’d had my way, I would have attended Felix Barretta’s funeral alone. However, Joseph Lawson wouldn’t hear of it.
Funny how he’s happy to forget his youngest daughter exists when it suits him. Yet when it comes to presenting a united front at his son-in-law’s funeral, he won’t hear of Sierra sitting it out. He’s lucky he didn’t request we bring Rowan as I would have torn into him for even suggesting it. Rowan is at the house with Natalia and over twenty bodyguards, yet I still want to wrap things up here as fast as possible to get back to him.
Lawson is a snake. He’s been badgering me for a meeting these past couple of weeks, and he hasn’t once asked how Sierra and Rowan are.