"It's a request." He cleared his throat. "It's my way of asking you to marry me."
She pulled her hand back like it had been burned. The ring flew into the air and Anthony managed to catch it before it fell to the sand. She took a step back, and her breathing became heavy as her heart felt like it was going to beat out of her chest. This was the moment every woman dreamed of. The moment she dreamed of. Having the man you love ask you to spend the rest of your life with him. Except she knew this was nothing more than a charade. Did she think Anthony loved her? Possibly. Maybe in his own way. Did she think Anthony was asking her to marry him because of that love? No. She knew he had another reason.
"Christy?" he asked, his head leaning to one side.
She immediately discounted the words she thought he murmured into her hand less than an hour ago. "We've never even said the words 'I love you' and you're asking me to marry you?" she asked, her voice laced with skepticism and pain.
"I didn't realize that was a prerequisite to a marriage proposal," he said, and she heard the sincerity in his tone. "I've never done this before, Owani. I've never been in love, and if you've been waiting for me to say it, I'll say it now, and I'll say it every day for the rest of my life. I love you, Christy. I want to marry you." He paused and took a deep breath. "Do you want to marry me?" His brown eyes looked hopeful.
"Yes," she answered, but her voice sounded sad. Like she'd delivered bad news.
The contradiction between her answer and her tone caused him to pause. He wasn't sure what to think. He didn't have to think at all. Her next words stunned him.
"But I can't," she added as she looked away and shook her head slightly. "I'm sorry, Anthony, but the answer is no."
She left him standing at the edge of the water as she made her way back up to the parking lot.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Naples, Florida 1978
No matter how hard Anthony tried to get a reason from Christy for rejecting his proposal, she refused to open up. She stuck to her story that she couldn't marry him, but offered no explanation as to why not. She was adamant about making sure he knew she wanted to stay with him and that she loved him, but that she could never marry him.
Anthony Bear wasn't used to hearing the word “no” so he spent the days after his proposal teetering between the knowledge that he had to be patient with her, and the anger at her rejection and refusal to tell him why. He had an inkling as to what might be the reason behind her refusal, but he wanted to hear it from her. Frustrated and a little mad, he'd fought the urge to tell her that he'd already taken matters into his own hands days before his formal proposal. If only she knew, he thought to himself.
Apparently, the woman he'd fallen in love with was stubborn to a fault. As much as he hated to admit it, it was that stubbornness combined with her gutsy and spirited nature that caused him to fall for her. When he added her vulnerability and naivety to the mix, it was the perfect recipe to saturate his heart. A heart that he'd never known was capable of love. That is until Christy Chapman drove up in a red Corvette.
Later that week, Anthony stopped at Camp Sawgrass to check on his crew and to discuss a business arrangement that had to do with a special delivery to the Port of Miami. His new client would be visiting from Saudi Arabia and wanted to meet Anthony personally. It wasn't unusual for a high-profile customer to want to meet the man in charge of the operation and Anthony confirmed that he would be in Miami the day after next.
Satisfied with the arrangements for his meeting, he stood back and watched as the hatchet he'd thrown seemed to fly through the air in slow motion before hitting the block of wood that was fastened to the wall of one of the buildings. He started to walk toward the bunkhouse to retrieve it when he sensed Shasta's approach. He was pulling at the ax when he felt her hand lightly caress his bicep.
"I have some rubbers, Anthony," she said.
He turned around to look at her and saw the hunger in her eyes. It was a combination of sexual desire and desperation. She needed a fix and was hoping that an encounter with Anthony would earn her more drugs than if she slept with one of the regulars.
"Not today, Shasta," he told her as he walked back to where he was standing. Not any day, is what he meant to say. She followed him and waited for him to throw the hatchet a second time.
"It'll be worth it," she told him. She nodded toward the camp office building. Anthony followed her gaze and saw a scantily dressed blonde standing in the doorway. She smiled and waved him over.
"The two of us together will make you forget your name," Shasta said, her voice unsteady.
Anthony shook his head slowly and looked at Shasta. She had to be only a little older than Christy but looked like she was in her thirties. He tried to stir up some compassion for the woman, but it wasn't there. She'd made her choices in life. Not him.
"It's her, isn't it?" Shasta asked, her eyes sad.
"It's who?" he countered, not understanding the question.
"It's that girl you had everybody looking for. You have feelings for her, don't you?" she swallowed and looked away from him.
"Is that what everybody thinks?" he asked.
"No," she answered honestly. "Nobody talks about it. She was yesterday's news. I guess you seem different to me."
"C'mon," he said as he grabbed her by the arm and steered her toward two men that were standing by their bikes. Just the thought of Christy had somehow softened him.
"Brooks," Anthony commanded. "Get Shasta set up with whatever she asks for."
Brooks nodded.
"Thank you. Thank you, Anthony," Shasta blurted out. She followed him as he walked toward the blonde who was smiling seductively.
"How old are you?" Anthony snapped at the girl.
"Eighteen," she answered a little too quickly.
"How old are you?" he asked again, narrowing his eyes.
"Don't lie to him," Shasta added as she watched Brooks from the corner of her eye. She was anxious for whatever Brooks was going to give her. She needed a fix and she needed it badly.
The blonde let out a huff and whined, "I'll be seventeen in two weeks."
"Go home and never come back here," Anthony said as he headed for his bike. He wanted to go home and make love to a blonde. His blonde.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Naples, Florida 1978
Two days later, Anthony stood at his front door and kissed Christy goodbye. The marriage proposal still hung in the air between them like a dirty diaper that nobody wanted to change. It was avoided. Christy, because she didn't want to give Anthony an explanation as to why she said no. And, Anthony, because he no longer wanted an explanation. He wanted an official “yes."
"You won't leave the house?" he asked.
"I told you I have no place to go today," she reassured him.