I laughed, pulling myself up to sit beside him, my hand tracing its way lazily around his chest. “Does that happen to you a lot?” I asked. “Calling out the wrong name during sex?”
Silas grinned. “You don’t have to worry about that,” he said. “I’m a one woman kind of guy. I know where I belong.” He traced his finger over my shoulder, across the outline of my tattoo. “Kind of like that swallow on your shoulder. You got that bit about the sailors right, you know. Sailors did wear them to show how far they’d traveled. But they were also for good luck - to guide them back to where they belonged.”
I smiled. “I didn’t know that part,” I said. “But yeah, I remember what I said, and I meant it.”
Silas nodded. “Good,” he said.
“That’s all you have to say?” I asked. “I tell you I love you and you say, good?”
Silas grinned. “I just wanted to hear you say it again, Tempest,” he said.
I slapped him on the chest. “You’re an ass.”
Silas laughed. “But I’m your ass, now.”
I slid off the bed as Silas protested, making a half-hearted attempt to grab me, but really just lying lazily in the afterglow of the sex. “On second thought,” I said. “Maybe I should take it all back.”
Silas jumped up, and I squealed as he reached for me, grabbing my wrist and pulling me against him. “Don’t ever say that,” he said. “You’re stuck with me now.”
“Oh yeah?” I asked.
He pulled away from me. “That’s right,” he said. “I meant what I said before. I’m not fucking dating you. I don’t want to see if you’re right for me, or whatever the hell regular people do. Our history is too complicated for that. You’re it for me. I’ve known it since we were teenagers, and I know it now. You’re mine. I want you to be mine. I love you. I have since I met you. I have for the last seven years.”
“What are you asking me?” I asked, my heart pounding in my chest. “I’m not a white picket fence kind of girl, Silas.”
Silas stepped away from me, and for a minute, I thought I’d hurt him, but he walked to his bureau, opened the top drawer, and pulled out a little box. My breath caught in my throat as he walked back over to me, still naked. “I’ve had this since we were kids,” he said. “We talked about getting married, but I was going to actually ask you, you know. Before you left.”
“Silas.” I didn’t know what to say. We’d talked about getting married, but I never thought he’d actually gone and bought a ring, let alone kept it this whole time.
“You might hate it and think it’s stupid,” he said. “It’s nothing pricey. In fact, it’s pretty damn cheap. But it meant something to me back then.”
He opened the box and held out the ring. “I was saving up for it, back then. I had it made for you. It’s Pietersite. It’s this rare stone, but it’s not precious or anything. I got it because it’s called a tempest stone, because it has these swirls in it that look like a storm, you know?”
“Silas, it’s beautiful,” I said.
“It’s stupid and corny,” he said.
“Stop talking and kiss me,” I ordered, and he did it. When he finally broke the kiss, he looked down at me.
“You did understand that I was asking you to marry me, right?” he said.
I laughed. “Yeah, Silas, I got it,” I said. “I mean, it was a naked proposal and not down on one knee or anything, but…”
“We don’t exactly have a traditional relationship,” he said. “But if you want, I can get down on my knees again.”
I laughed and smacked his hand away as it traveled down my abdomen, heading for its destination between my legs. “You’re sweet one minute, filthy the next.”
He leaned in and kissed me, groping my ass cheek with one hand. “Get used to it, bright eyes,” he said. “Because that’s never going to change.”
Epilogue
Silas
“It’s really quite quaint,” Oscar said, looking around. “Cold, of course. But quaint.”
“Connectivity is shit up here,” Emir complained. “It’s below zero. It has to be, right?”
“Thank you all for coming out here,” Tempest said, in her excessively patient voice, the one she used with me a lot. “Even though you’re bitching and moaning about everything.”
Oscar smiled. “West Bend is lovely,” he said. “Picturesque. It reminds me of the Swiss Alps. Besides, Emir should learn to ski while he’s here. Get some fresh air.”
Emir paused, standing up from where he’d been digging around in a case. “Oh, no, no,” he said. “I’m not skiing. This grift doesn’t involve me skiing, does it?”
I tightened my grip on Tempest’s waist and drew her in close to me, laughing. “I can teach you,” I said. “I’m teaching her.”
“I already skied pretty well before you, thank you very much,” she protested.
“Oh, sure you did, sweetheart,” I said, kissing the top of her head. Then I shook my head no and mouthed the word, exaggerated, and Tempest pulled away, punching me on the arm.
“I do ski well,” she said.
“If by well, you mean as well as the tourists do,” I said.