As she unwrapped her roast beef sandwich, I took a folded postcard out of my pocket. Its glossy photo showed a stand of golden aspens at the foot of a snow-capped mountain range.
“Check this out. It’s from Daniella and Doctor Dom.” Lacey chewed while I read the back out loud. “Greetings from the Mile-High City. We’re both very busy at Saint Mark’s, but we always find time to watch every Texas home game. (Don’t worry, we’ll never be Broncos fans.) Hope you two have a happy Thanksgiving.”
Lacey swallowed her bite. “It’s good to hear Dani’s doing well.”
I nodded in wholehearted agreement. The two women weren’t exactly best buddies—my presence had made for too much friction between them—but I knew that Lacey sometimes still felt guilty about breaking us up.
We were both glad that Daniella had finally found her groove in life. A new city to make friends in, and a Dom who loved her and treated her right. Her parting gift had been helping Lacey get a new job at the hospital where she could use her finance degree. Lacey now spent her days on fundraising, working with large donors and securing future investments for the new children’s wing of the hospital.
“This last year’s been crazy, right?” she asked, setting down her sandwich.
I nodded again, more grimly this time. The men responsible for Lacey’s kidnapping were currently serving twenty-five to life. Good fucking riddance. Their drug ring charges, on top of armed kidnapping and a whole list of other shit, got them the maximum. That, and Jerry Barton was old college pals with the judge.
“God, if you and Greyson hadn’t come that night . . .”
“We did. And you’re safe. And you’ve called and thanked Greyson about a thousand times since then.”
She sighed. “He doesn’t come around much anymore.”
It was true. Since I’d fallen in love and my life became a picture of happy, domestic bliss, he’d backed off a little. I still saw him at work, we still went for drinks occasionally at West’s, but he often declined to come over for game days, saying that I should spend my spare time with Lacey.
“Grey’s even more fucked up than I was about love,” was all I said.
“Geez, what’s with you two? Is love really so scary?”
I didn’t tell her the whole story about how and why we lost Marcus. Greyson had run that mission and still blamed himself for his death. I hadn’t told her because it wasn’t my story to tell. But that, along with some other tragic events, had fucked us both up pretty good.
Lacey didn’t pry further, and when I stroked her cheek, she leaned into my touch, releasing a soft sigh. She was safe and we were happy. And I hoped that with a little time, and maybe the right woman, Greyson would find his happy place too.
She reached back into her bag and paused. “Hmm? I didn’t pack a dessert, did I?”
My heart tripped. She had found the extra container I’d hidden in her lunch. I tried to stay cool as she took out the little plastic box and opened it. Inside was a chocolate cupcake from her favorite bakery—topped with a glittering diamond ring.
Lacey stared at the ring blankly for a second. Then she took a sharp breath and looked up at me, her lovely eyes wide. “This is . . . you really mean it?”
I laughed. “Of course I do. Why do you sound so surprised?”
“It’s just that . . .” Setting aside the cupcake, Lacey glanced away, her expression caught between joy and regret. “After everything I put you through—”
“Hey, now,” I interrupted, taking her hand. “I understand why you did what you did. And I know you’ve learned from your mistake. I know you’d never lie to me again.”
She immediately shook her head. “Of course not, but—”
“Then there’s no buts. I love you, I trust you, end of story.” I kissed her knuckles gently, then went down on one knee, still holding her hand. “So . . . Lacey Barton, will you marry me?”
She pressed her other hand to her mouth, her eyes brimming. “Yes!” she said with a laugh.
My heart overflowed. I leaned in to hug Lacey tight and claim my first kiss as her fiancé. Nothing could compare to this moment. I had the world’s most amazing woman in my arms . . . and she wanted to be mine forever.
When we paused for breath, I asked with a smirk, “You know what this means, right?”
She blinked, briefly perplexed, then giggled. “Yes, yes. I’m finally moving in with you.”
For the last six months, I had asked her roughly a dozen times if she would move in with me. She had always changed the subject or demurred politely, saying things like “Isn’t it too soon for that?” and “Oh no, Dad would flip out.” While my boss could be old-fashioned—and Lacey had already stressed him out plenty last year—I didn’t think Barton was the kind of man to have a heart attack over a little cohabitation.
“So why did you keep turning me down?” I asked. I wanted to hear the real reason, in her own words.
She sighed, although she was still smiling a little. “I had two reasons, but they’re kind of related. They’ll probably sound stupid when I say them out loud.”