Don't Speak (A Modern Fairytale, #5)(127)

She raced from the room, dark red braids flying straight back and Mr. Mopples holding on for dear life.

Erik stalked her. “Who are you?”

Her heart flipped over. “Laire Cornish.”

Erik took another step toward her, shaking his head. “No way. I know Laire Cornish. I met her six years ago at my parents’ summer house. She had pinkish-gold hair and was wearing jeans and boots and a black shirt. She told me she had crabs, then ran away.”

Laire giggled, her stomach fluttering as he took another step closer. “You don’t like this look?”

“You’re so sexy, baby, I don’t want to leave this room.”

He was so close now, she could smell the sea air on his skin. “You took her to your house?”

His hands landed on her hips, and he pulled her against his chest. “I wanted her to see it before we moved.”

“You don’t think she’ll ever have another chance?”

He shrugged, his face hardening. “Not for a while, darlin’.”

Laire sighed, looping her arms around his neck and resting her cheek on his shoulder. She didn’t want to spoil the mood by asking about his family. “So, tell me, where are we going tonight?”

“Not a chance. You’ll see when we get there. You ready?”

She drew back from him and nodded, happy that his flirty mood seemed to be restored. Backing out of his arms, she grabbed her black silk clutch. “I’ll go say hi to Kelsey.”

He nodded. “Just give me a minute to change.”

***

Erik pulled into the Pamlico House parking lot, as he had hundreds of times before—as he had all that summer when he and Laire were first dating, as he had a little over a week ago, when he came out to the Banks to check on his parents’ house. But tonight his hands sweat and his stomach was alight with butterflies. Yes, he had already gotten Ava Grace’s permission in the living room at Utopia Manor, but would Laire say yes? Or would she ask for some time? They’d only just been reunited, he reminded himself. If she needed a little time, it wasn’t a no; it was just a pause. Right? Right.

Opening her car door, he took her hand as they walked up the steps to the reception area.

“The dining room’s not open for dinner yet, is it?” asked Laire.

Erik held open the door. “We’re not goin’ to the dinin’ room. We’re goin’ upstairs.”

Laire turned and looked at him. “Up to the widow’s walk?”

He nodded. “Is that okay?”

“I thought we were having dinner.”

“We are,” he said, leaning down to press his lips to hers. “Now, no more questions.”

He’d arranged it all with Kelsey, calling her from Raleigh two days ago, after he’d purchased the ring at Sidney Thomas, and asking if it was possible for her to arrange a private dinner for two under the stars on Friday night. After some pretty impressive haggling, Kelsey had agreed to set up everything, her excitement taking over as she told Erik to let her handle everything. Now, as he ascended the stairs with Laire, he hoped that “everything” would be perfect.

Opening the door to the roof, he held it for her, watching over her shoulder as she stopped beside the candlelit table, feeling the satisfaction of her surprised gasp and silently promising to give Kelsey a hundred dollar tip when they got home tonight.

A small table, covered with a long white tablecloth, had been set for two with china plates and gleaming silver. Ice water sparkled in two goblets, and a bottle of Champagne shifted in its icy bath. On the table was a low arrangement of red roses, surrounded by flickering candles, and in a heater beside the table, Erik knew he would find fresh catch plated with sautéed vegetables and warm rolls.

But the most important part of the night was going to happen right now. Erik dropped to one knee as Laire turned around to face him.

She gasped again, the tears in her eyes spilling onto her cheeks as she covered her mouth, her sea-green eyes so wide, he couldn’t help but smile.

“Darlin’, can I have your hand?”

Shaking like a leaf, she dropped her hands from her face and offered one to him.

“Erik,” she murmured through a soft sob, shaking her head. “You didn’t have to do this for me.”

“Of course I did,” he said, taking her hand firmly in his. “We dated in secret. You had our child all alone. But this, baby? This time I’m goin’ to do it right.”

She smiled at him, sniffling softly as she wiped the tears from under her eyes.

Reaching into his pocket with his free hand, he withdrew a black velvet box and flipped it open. She inhaled sharply, staring at it for a moment before shifting her eyes to his, more tears following the others.

“Laire. Darlin’.

Wait. First, I want you to know: this afternoon at Utopia Manor, I got permission from Ava Grace to ask her mama to marry me so I don’t want you to think she’s not on board. She is. And Mr. Mopples is too, bless her heart.”

Laire chuckled softly, her shoulders shaking as she nodded at him to continue.

“Darlin’, I have loved you since the first moment I saw you. My feelin’s only grew deeper that summer, until the only future I could imagine included you. I was destroyed for any other woman.”

His hand squeezed hers.