Page 12 of Nightingale

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I still love the stupid son of a bitch, but he's right. If I give him another chance, he's going to be sorry for a long, long time. I eventually nod, and it must be the signal he's been waiting for.

He lunges off the couch and scoops me up off the ottoman, throws me over his shoulder while protecting my still flat belly, and tosses a, "Be right back," behind him as he exits the room.

"Rex! What the hell? Put me down!" I wiggle but it only smashes my boobs on his shoulder with the awkward carry he has me in.

He carries me through the house and out the laundry room door that leads outside to the porch that spans the rear side of the cabin. Finally, he lets me slide to my feet in front of one of the glider chairs.

With him standing so closely it's awkward not to sit down. When I do, Rex kneels down in front of me. Eyes widening in panic that he would do this now, I slap my hands over his mouth.

The move startles him enough that he loses his balance as he jerks back. I stare in amusement at his predicament with his legs bent and trapped underneath him. He grasps my hand when it's offered, letting me help pull him up until he can move more easily on his own.

"Thank you. This is not at all how I imagined this going." He shakes his head ruefully at himself.

"To be fair, it didn't go how I planned the first time either." I give him my own sardonic grin.

"What are you talking about?" He looks so confused, and the horror sets in.

Followed swiftly by mortification. This cannot be happening again. I want to crawl under my bed. Or a rock. I'd take either option.

"Um, you weren't? I thought— and the knee. Well, fuck." I close my eyes, unable to witness whatever his expression holds.

"Ohh, you mean you thought I wanted to show you this?" I nod, eyes still closed. Until what he says registers.

My lids pop open, and my gaze hones in on the little square, black velvet box. I quickly glance back up at him, and he's trying valiantly to hold in his mirth.

"It's still not what you think. Close though." Thoroughly confused, I stare at the box. "Go on, open it."

Like it's a snake about to strike, I slowly reach out to take it before I open the lid to discover a brown gemstone in a silver setting I'm suspecting is platinum. And how is this different than what I thought?

As if sensing my thoughts, Rex elaborates.

"It's not an engagement ring; it's a promise ring. I thought you might nut me if I tried to propose right now, and that was before the whole bun-in-the-oven thing." He waves at my midsection, catching the hand I try to swat him with in both of his larger ones.

My other is occupied by the pretty ring that I don't really feel like putting down. It's mine, no give backsies.

"Well, to be honest," he continues, "it was originally meant to be an engagement ring. I bought it before I accepted the assignment. A chocolate diamond to match your eyes. Corny, I know, but it's still unique, and you're definitely that." He finally looks up at me instead of staring at our hands. "What? What's wrong?"

I must look as surprised as I feel. "A diamond, Rex? You don't hand out diamonds as promise rings. I thought it was topaz or something or whatever is brown and not a buttload of money!"

"Oh, that's all? I thought there was something else." I can only shake my head at the clueless man. "And like I said, originally it had a different purpose, and I hope one day it will again. You weren't mistaken that night, only my ambition got the better of me and I chose my career. My need for that one big case to seal the deal on a promotion overran my common sense. When the job was offered, I knew I couldn't be with you and do what was required, and hoped you'd wait on my dumb ass. So I put the ring in a safe place to wait. In hindsight I know even if you'd taken me back I wouldn't have dealt well with the deceit that would have to hide and at that point you didn't even know my real job. As bad as it sounds, and I apologize in advance for saying it, you ending up there with me saved my sanity. I know it caused damage, and I'd take that away if I could— after everything none of us are quite right anymore, but I don't think I'd understand what I do now about my actions had it not happened." He pauses, and I think he's done.

I so badly want to chew him out for his thought process, but at the same time he's owning up to not making the best decisions. My heart is warring with my head; one wants to move toward forgiveness, while the other wants to make him prove it with actions and not just words. Before I can make a decision he starts up again.

"Despite everything, you're my life. My home. When I thought I'd lose you in that place, I was terrified. It was the worst thing I could ever have imagined, and I hated myself for my role in it." My gaze had dropped to my feet, but at the thick sound in his voice I look up again. My neanderthal is crying. Not overtly, but twin trails track down his cheeks. "If you'll accept it, this ring is my promise. My promise to put you first, to make you happy and never leave you—and to do better. I can't say I'll never stick my foot in it because we both know I'm an ass, even when I don't mean to be, and sometimes when I'm actively trying not to be one. Will you let me try? At least consider it? And even if you don't, the ring is still yours. It was bought for you."

I'm not sure what to say, frozen in indecision. Finally, when the light of hope in his eyes begins to fade, I find my voice.

"I have conditions." I wait for him to acknowledge that and continue when he nods. "I'll take it, but I won't wear it yet. Not until we know more and aren't in this situation. Not until I can believe what you say. When you prove it, then I'll consider accepting it. As a promise ring. If we ever get further than that, then you can do it all properly. Agreed?"

"Yes, agreed! Thank you, baby. I won't let down." He wraps my fingers around the box and plants a swift, sweet kiss on the top of my head. "You ready to go inside now?" At my nod, he levers himself up to his feet and then helps me up. "I'm," he starts bashfully, "sorry about the caveman routine. I didn't think you'd go with me if I asked."

He's not wrong, I think as I laugh with the little box of hope clenched in my fist. "Yeah, I don't think I would have either. But hey" I have his full attention and feel bad for the request but ask anyway. "Can we keep this between us for now? Just until I figure it out one way or the other?" He puts on a smile and nods and I think he's genuinely okay with it. Maybe he is figuring shit out.

They won’t leave me alone. They’re everywhere!

Even Brent, who keeps randomly popping up, catching me alone, and asking questions. Like how long it took to get here from my house, and if I know where we are exactly. He used the excuse that he was only curious and that he’d fallen asleep on the drive when I’d asked why he wanted to know. Other times it was to ask if I thought I needed to make an appointment to get checked out. I finally told him he was being a creep and to leave me alone, then I immediately told Marcus. It’s been a couple of days since I’ve seen him now and I’m not feeling too bad about that.

But the others… They’ve declared war or some shit. Case in point? The abs currently staring me in the face. Or maybe I’m staring them in the face. Regardless, one of us is drooling.


Tags: Emma Cole Erotic