Chapter 28
1 YEAR, 7 MONTHS AGO
“I was thinking about us heading to the island for a week.”
I blinked at Brant across a table full of brunch. He never brought up travel. Was normally so buried in work that I had to drag him away for fun. “When?”
“Maybe Saturday. We just finished the design phase of the photo frames. It’ll take the tech team a week or so to get me initial mockups.”
I swallowed a mixture of salmon and cream cheese. Dabbed my mouth with a napkin while I thought.
A week. Smack dab in the middle of Operation Kill Tennis Barbie.
A week. With the man I loved. Twenty-four hours a day of Brant, and any bit of personality that I could coax out to play. We needed this. He needed this. It’d been three or four months since we had gone anywhere, his psyche focused on the latest development, then the next, then the next. He lived to build. To improve. And this week’s project was apparently us.
The island he was referring to was our Hawaiian home. It wasn’t really on an island, unless you counted Honolulu, the large mass where our private peninsula jutted off. Our property held a twenty thousand square foot vacation home, complemented by a private pool, gym, spa. Chefs, masseuses, butlers, and maids. It would be good to get away. Hop from one paradise to the next.
I smiled at him. “Sure. I’ll coordinate with Jillian. Get the details set up.”
He stood, leaving his plate and walked over. Put a hand on the table and leaned over. Swept his lips over mine and smiled. “I love you.”
I sat back in my seat, looked up, felt the brush of his hand as he cradled my chin. “I love you too.”
“When will you let me be your husband?” A husk in the words. Need behind the question. I stared into the eyes of my love. A man who, in some ways, was still a lonely little boy who played in his basement while every other kid was outside.
“One day.” My answer that was not an answer, yet the response I had provided for a year.
“A man might get tired of waiting.” The curve of his mouth belied his words.
I reached up, gripped his shirt and pulled myself to my feet. Wrapped my arms around his neck and pressed against him. “Well, then maybe I should give you another reason to stay.”
He took my kiss. Deepened it. Didn’t object when my hands pulled his shirt loose from his pants. Let me drag him into the living room and straddle him. And there, with Sunday sun streaming through French doors, our clothes still mostly on, I distracted him from thoughts of marriage and reassured him of my love in the way I knew best.
