"See." I rest my chin on his bare chest. "That wouldn’t have meant as much to me."
He peers down his nose in skepticism. "You're telling me that my asking you to marry me on some random Sunday afternoon in a garden is exactly what you wanted?"
I reach forward to brush my lips over his. "I'm telling you that it was perfect and this is the perfect ring."
"Bell." He grazes his fingers over my cheek. "That is an eighty-nine dollar ring I bought at a vintage store a decade ago. It's not the perfect ring."
I rest my head on his chest as I dart my hand into the air above us. "Look at it, Caleb. Just look at it."
I feel him shift beneath me. "It's so small. There's no diamond."
"This ring is every year you loved me. It's every time you ever said my name." I push my cheek into his skin. "It is all about a love that started so long ago that neither of us can remember it."
He strokes my hair. "I don't think I could find anything that holds that much meaning."
"I know you can't." I lower my hand as I twist around to face him. "This is the only ring I ever want."
"We'll set a wedding date tomorrow?"
"Before we go to work, we'll set a date." I rub my finger over his bottom lip. "I'm going to be Mrs. Foster soon."
"I'll still call you Bell."
"Promise me you'll always call me that." I slide forward to kiss his chin. "I love when you call me that."
"Promise me you'll love me forever and I'll do whatever you want."
"I've loved you forever, Caleb. That will never change."
I close my eyes as I feel his mouth claim mine and I know that every tomorrow I'm going to have will begin in the arms of this man.
Coming Soon by Deborah Bladon
Preview of HAZE
Featuring Gabriel Foster
"How long have you worked here?" His voice is cultured, deep and smooth. It's not uncommon to hear a voice like that in this boutique. I've worked here for six weeks now and at least twice a week a man with too much money and an insatiable need to see young women dressed in expensive lingerie will come waltzing through the doors.
"Welcome to Liore," I say softly as I glance to my left to where he's standing.
I have to look up. He's large, not just in height but in his shoulder's breadth. His eyes are a rich brown, his hair just as dark. His nose is sculptured and his jaw has a definite curve to it. The suit he's wearing is dark blue, perhaps even black. It's hard to tell under the chandelier lights that decorate this opulent space.
"Isla." His eyes fly over my chest before they settle on my nametag. "It's nice to meet you, Isla."
"It's lovely to meet you…" I pause. It's not only because I've been instructed to grab the name of every customer to give them a personal shopping experience. I want to know his name.
"Gabriel," he offers with a light touch of his hand on mine.
The name is oddly familiar as I work to place it, I see him peering across the boutique at my boss. "Is there something I can help you find, Gabriel? Are you purchasing something for a girlfriend, or perhaps, your wife?"
His expression shifts slightly. "I have neither."
That's a pity but it's not. This is exactly the type of man I envisioned in my mind's eye when I arrived in Manhattan. I graduated from high school less than two years ago and my dreams of attending Julliard on a scholarship had vanished as quickly as my clean record when I broke one too many rules in high school.
"Is there something in particular that you're looking for?" I catch the faint wave of the hand of one of my co-workers across the aisle. I ignore it because when a customer is ready to buy, the store could be engulfed in flames, and I'm not moving an inch. The commissions here are the highest I've ever earned in retail and the secret to guarantee a big sale is to make the customer feel as though they're the only one in the boutique.
His eyes scan the various bras we have displayed before they move to the lace panties and garters. "If I asked you to try something on for me, Isla, would you do that? Would you take me into one of the change rooms with you?"
I've read the employee handbook. No, I skimmed it briefly while on my way to work that first day weeks ago. The number one rule is to never take a customer into the rooms. Men who lead you into those quiet spaces are craving more than a private fashion show. I know that. "I'm sorry, Gabriel. That's against company policy."
He studies my face carefully. The dark shadow around my blue eyes looks hideous in the alarming bright light of the morning, but in here it's sensual and alluring. My shoulder length blonde hair is straight today, a sharp contrast to my high cheekbones. I'm here to sell lingerie and the light pink wrap around dress I'm wearing accentuates everything it needs to. He hasn't walked away yet, so he's still primed to buy.
He closes the short distance between us as he steps towards me. "You don't strike me as the type of young woman who follows all the rules."