Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 109783 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 549(@200wpm)___ 439(@250wpm)___ 366(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109783 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 549(@200wpm)___ 439(@250wpm)___ 366(@300wpm)
A half hour later, Mum had departed with Millie and her overnight bag, and I got in the shower. Fyfe and I had a night to ourselves, so I wanted to be plucked and gleaming for what I hoped would be a very energetic evening in bed.
I was straightening my hair when I heard Fyfe downstairs. He didn’t call up or come find me, so I finished getting ready and strolled downstairs in the sexy floral summer dress I’d bought just for the occasion. I left my hair down and my feet bare. Rounding the staircase, I turned and abruptly halted. The lights were low and our dining table was aglow with candlelight.
Fyfe had thrown his suit jacket over the back of the couch, removed his socks, shoes, and tie, and rolled up his shirt sleeves while he cooked at the stove. The living space already smelled amazing.
He glanced over at me, his eyes flickering down my body from behind his dark framed glasses. He’d worn them just for me today. “Hi, baby.”
I bit my lip against a giddy smile because this man still made my belly flutter. Probably always would. “What are you making?”
“Spaghetti puttanesca.”
“Yum.”
“Wine?” He lifted a bottle with his free hand and poured into the empty glass next to his.
“I’m getting the full treatment tonight, huh?” I hopped up onto the stool at the island to watch him. “Anything I can do?”
“Drink your wine, relax.” He gave me a sexy grin full of promise.
Oh yes, tonight was going to be good.
I sipped at my wine and told him about how excited Millie was to leave with Nana Regan.
“Until she realizes she’s staying the night,” Fyfe murmured before taking a drink.
“She’ll be fine,” I promised. “She’ll settle.”
“I know.”
I loved how he worried about her. I just loved him. “I love you.”
He looked at me from beneath his lashes, his lips curling at the corners. “I love you too.”
“You sure you don’t want any more?” Fyfe asked, standing up to take my plate.
“Nope. I’m good.”
“Was it all right?” He scowled at my half-eaten plate.
“It was delicious.” I did not lie. “But you promised me tiramisu, so I’m leaving room.”
“You’ll have plenty of room.”
He was so dim sometimes. “Fyfe, I don’t want to be stuffed with food if we’re going to be banging each other’s brains out in an hour.”
Fyfe shot me a smug grin over his shoulder. “I see. Leaving room to be stuffed by my cock.”
I walked into that one. “Ha! You’re hilarious.”
“I am hilarious.”
Shaking my head at his nonsense, I couldn’t help but admire the sight of him moving around the kitchen. Sometimes it still felt unreal that Fyfe Moray was mine. That he loved me back when the very idea of that had been a deep-seated fantasy I’d carried for years.
He looked over at me, narrowing his eyes.
“Problem?”
“Hmm.”
“What?”
“You’re watching me. A lot.”
“I like watching you.”
His brow furrowed in thought.
Weirdo. Laughing under my breath, I stood up. “I’m going to the bathroom. It’ll give you a reprieve from my ogling.”
“Aye,” he agreed a little vehemently. “You do that. You should do that.”
“Okaaaay. I will.” Thinking on it, Fyfe had been acting odd all evening. Fidgety. Like he was waiting for something to happen.
I’d just assumed he was eager for us to eat so we could get to the sex part of our belated anniversary activities.
When I returned from the bathroom, Fyfe didn’t look at me as he moved around the kitchen. “Desserts just coming.”
I nodded and sat back down at the table. I was mid sip of refreshed wine when Fyfe announced from the kitchen, “You know, I always pictured doing this somewhere exotic. With a scenic backdrop and some kind of romantic relevance.”
“Doing what?”
He grabbed a plate off the island, what I assumed was dessert, and moved slowly toward me as he continued, as if I hadn’t asked a question. “But then I thought I wanted to do this where you and I truly began. In this place …,” he said, setting the plate in front of me, “where you told me you loved me and where I realized I’d loved you for far longer than I’d ever admitted to myself.”
My heart hammered as I stared at what was on the plate.
Not dessert.
An open black velvet ring box with a solitaire diamond engagement ring nestled within it.
“Here is where I somehow fell more in love with you than I thought possible as I watched you fall in love with Millie. Here is where I knew that I would spend the rest of my life with you.”
I wrenched my gaze from the ring, eyes blurry with tears as I gaped up at my boyfriend. “Fyfe?”
His smile was slow and seductive as he reached over and plucked the ring from the box. Then he lowered to his knee in front of me and raised my left hand in his. “Eilidh Francine Adair, will you do me the greatest honor of my life by becoming my wife?”