A Winter Wedding

Lourdes spoke to Renate for a few minutes, then propped herself against the headboard as she went through the other texts and emails she’d ignored.

There were a few business items from Derrick. He’d spoken to her old label. They were interested in a demo of the new song. That was encouraging. She never should’ve left Boondock Records to chase the dream of becoming even bigger by switching to pop. Had Taylor Swift not made it look so easy, she probably wouldn’t have.

Anyway, Derrick was putting out a few other feelers and had generated some interest.

Crystal had texted her, too.

I’m so glad you’re coming home. Is there any chance we could have lunch?

Lourdes didn’t like that Derrick had communicated her plans to the woman he’d cheated with, didn’t care for the fact that they were still in close contact. She wasn’t jealous; it just made her feel odd that they were all carrying on as if nothing had happened. But she supposed lunch with Crystal would be smart from a professional standpoint. It would go a long way toward letting people know they weren’t feuding over Derrick, as some might expect.

Sure. I’ll give you a call when I’m settled, she wrote back, then climbed out of bed to wash her face and brush her teeth and hair.

When she was done with that, she picked up her guitar. Kyle’s song was turning out to be even prettier than the one Derrick had purchased for her, and she was eager to finish it.

She worked on it for another hour, until she heard Kyle’s key in the lock. Then she set it aside to meet him at the door.

“Where have you been?” she asked.

He grinned at her. She could tell he hadn’t taken time to shower this morning. He’d thrown on his clothes and a ball cap and left, but she liked him a little scruffy. “I had to pick something up.”

“What?”

He looked slightly embarrassed. “Maybe we should eat first.”

She studied the sack in his hand. It had the Black Gold Coffee emblem. “You bought breakfast?”

“An array of muffins.”

“That sounds delicious but...are you trying to make me fat so I won’t look good onstage?” she teased.

“Would it make you stay?” he asked.

When their eyes met, she knew he was far more serious than he’d sounded. “Kyle, I can’t stay.”

“Even if I give you this?” He reached into the muffin sack and pulled out a small velvet box, which he handed her.

So much for waiting until after breakfast. Apparently, he couldn’t wait. But Lourdes was afraid to take it. She could guess what was inside. “Kyle...”

He shoved his hands in his pockets. “I had to do something. I had to at least try.”

Hoping she was jumping to the wrong conclusion, that it was just a keepsake necklace or a pair of earrings to remember him by, she opened the lid—and stared down at the very engagement ring she would’ve chosen for herself.

“Eve told me you posted the ring you wanted on Twitter. She sent me pictures of rings similar to the one you liked. They were all yellow gold, so I went with that.”

She could hardly breathe. “I do prefer yellow,” she said. “I’m tired of almost all jewelry being set in white these days.”

“And she said you liked the princess-cut diamond.”

“You got exactly what I would’ve chosen.” And judging by the size of the diamond, he hadn’t been concerned about the price.

“But?” he prompted.

She lifted her gaze. “You know what stands between us.”

“We could make it work.” He cupped his hands around hers, which held the ring. “So what if our lives aren’t as compatible as we are. That might not be what we would’ve chosen, but...it doesn’t change the way I feel. I don’t want to let you go. Will you marry me, Lourdes?”

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