“You’ll have to wait and see,” is my brief reply. I pull the car keys from my pocket and lead her to my Dodge Charger. “Get in,” I command after unlocking the car and opening her door. She slides in, pulling the sleek material of her long dress around her ankles so it doesn’t catch when I close the door behind her.
I walk around the car and hop in the driver’s side. We leave the venue behind as I pull out into evening traffic. It’s not until I turn down the street of her family home that she speaks. “Why are we going to my parents’ house?”
“I told you to wait and see.”
“I’m not a wait and see kind of person.” She folds her arms. “I like to know where I’m going and who’s going to be there and what we’re doing,” Mac says as I park in the driveway. “And why,” she adds.
I turn off the ignition and look at her, my grin wry. Of course she does. That’s my girl, and I wouldn’t change her for anything. “Do you trust me?”
Her eyebrows pull inward, like I’ve presented her with a Rubik’s cube. “I used to once. A long time ago,” Mac says with darkened eyes. “I trusted you with my life.”
I’m careful to keep my voice steady. “And now?”
“Jake, I …” Mac’s gaze drops to her lap as if it holds all the answers.
“Look at me,” I demand.
Her eyes rise. We stare at each other, the space between us heavy. “I do,” she says with some surprise. “I trust you.”
Her declaration is all I need to hear. I get out of the car and walk around to open her door. Mac steps out, taking my hand. I shut the door and rather than lead her toward the house, I lead her down the street. We walk along the road heading toward Mort Bay Park by the harbour.
When I find the right spot, I stop, and she stops with me.
“The last time we stood here together,” I begin.
“Was the day I asked you to stay.” Mac’s chin rises. “And yet you left anyway.”
I breathe deep and take both her hands in mine. “Are you bitter?”
Of course she is. Mac’s eyes hold pain and regret beneath the glow of the streetlight. They answer my question better than any words can.
“If I could go back and change it I would, but I can’t,” I say. “Neither of us can.” The air gusting between us stills and makes the thumping of my heart feel louder and stronger. “Are your memories of that day really that bad?”
Her cheeks warm, and I know she’s remembering our first kiss. Nothing had ever felt more awkward or beautiful. It was the start of a love affair so turbulent and wild, there are days where I’m not sure I’ll survive it. But I don’t care. I’ll go down loving Mackenzie Valentine until the day I die.
“No, Jake, they’re not bad. My memories of that day are bittersweet. I look back and see two young kids on a collision course, and I want to yell at them and tell them to … to …”
My chest tightens with anticipation. Mac is opening up her heart. It’s rare and I find myself hanging on her words like each is a precious gem. “To what?”
“To never let go.” Her breath catches and her eyes fill. “To stay in that moment forever because it’s the most perfect one you will ever have.”
“That’s why we’re here,” I say with a galloping heart. I release her right hand and tug the small box from my pocket. With it clutched in my fist, I drop to one knee.
A harsh sob escapes Mac’s chest and her hand quivers in mine. When I’m steady, I look up. Emotion is rich in her wide eyes.
“Because it’s time we let go of the past and move forward together. We can create a new perfect moment, right here, where we made our first. You know I love you, Mac. You’ve always been mine. Does that make me a selfish bastard for wanting the world to know?” I fumble a little as I open the ring box. We’re in the perfect spot because illumination from the streetlight sets the square-cut diamond beaming brighter than the sun. “Marry me, Princess.”
She blinks and stares. Mac is speechless. It gives me the urge to whip out my phone and snap a photo for the future. I could show everyone the one time where Mac didn’t have a witty comeback. But I don’t because it will ruin the moment.
“Say yes,” I instruct, squeezing her hand, “and I’ll let you have the last word.”
“I always get the last word anyway.” Mac is trying for flippant, but she doesn’t pull it off. Her voice is choked with too much emotion.
MAC
I want to say yes. More than my next breath. But I’m not ready. I’m not ready to create a new perfect moment only to sit back and watch us fall apart all over again. It destroyed me once. Next time it will put me in the ground. And there will be a next time. Of course there will be. I feel it deep in my bones. This is me and Jake we’re talking about. The two of us were destined for disaster the moment I splattered spaghetti sauce down the front of his shirt and stomped up the stairs in a childish girly tantrum.
“Mac.” Jake’s voice cracks, and he squeezes my hand a second time.
I’m giving him nothing. It’s unfair. It makes me feel like the bitch I’m touted to be.
“Please,” he begs.
“Yes,” I blurt out, because I’m hurting him and hurting him hurts me. “Yes.”
Jake exhales a breath of relief. He rises to his feet and looks at me, his eyes alight. Then they drop to the task of pulling the ring from the box. He does it with trembling fingers, and the sight makes my heart squeeze. When it’s free, he takes my ring finger and slides it on, his gaze on me and his grin boyish.
I love him. I love Jake Romero from the base of my toes to the very tips of my fingers. He deserves all of me, but I can’t give it. And I hate myself for it.
The ring feels snug. I look down, spreading my fingers as I stare. The diamond is huge. I adore it. It rests there like a weapon. A primed fist with this baby on the end of it would cause more damage than Superman on steroids. But it’s supposed to represent so much more. A future. Is that even possible for us?
“What do you think?”
My eyes shift from the ring to Jake. His expression is hopeful, and he’s biting his bottom lip. “I think it’s incredibly beautiful.”
His boyish grin morphs into a blinding laugh. He hugs me and picks me up swirling me around in his big, powerful arms. Jake’s enthusiasm is infectious. I’ve never seen him happier and it lifts my soul. An enormous smile overtakes my face.
“I want to make a toast!” he shouts, loud enough for anyone in the nearby houses to hear.
“Jake!” I shake my head, looking down on him as he holds me up with no apparent effort. “We have no champagne.”
His expression sobers and his eyes deepen into pools of dark whiskey. “To the future Mrs. Romero. She burns hotter than the sun and fights harder than a warrior in battle, and I’m the lucky man that gets to wake beside her every morning until the day I die.”
Oh god. “Jake,” I whisper and cup his cheeks in my hands, the ring feeling foreign and cumbersome on my finger, and yet so very, very real. “I …” Fuck. Why is this so hard? “You know I’m a grouch in the mornings.”
Jake chuckles and touches his nose to mine. “I love a woman who can admit her faults.”
MAC