The Devil Gets His Due (The Devils #4)(94)
“And then I brought you over here,” he says, pulling me around the corner, to an empty patio on the building’s west side. In the distance, the sun is already beginning its descent in a glorious haze of pink and salmon.
He drops to one knee, and I don’t entirely understand why until he fishes a small blue box out of his bag. “I asked you to marry me again, and you said yes. But I figured it was time I did it the right way.”
I blink back tears. Yes, there was a part of me that always wished I’d gotten a big romantic proposal, or had at least been asked when he was thinking clearly. I told myself it didn’t matter as long as I wound up happy, and…I did. But I love that he’s asking now anyway.
He climbs to his feet. “Aren’t you going to open it?”
I pluck the box from his hand. “I’m just worried it’s, like, a tiny stock portfolio instead of a ring.”
His eyes crinkle at the corners. “Even I’m not that bad.”
He’s nearly that bad—I mean, we still don’t have a Silver Cross stroller. I fully expect a diamond chip so small I need a magnifying glass to see it, but it doesn’t matter what the ring is like. I love him and I love that he’s done this.
I open the box and my jaw drops. Not out of horror.
It’s a massive rose-cut diamond, just like the one Lily Collins has. “Oh my God,” I whisper. “How did you know this is what I wanted?”
He laughs as he slides it on my finger. “You’ve shown me that ring every day since you got out of the hospital, Keeley. You made a TikTok about your love for that ring.”
Okay, yes, I did do those things. I laugh but it comes out a little like a sob.
He frowns. “Is it okay?”
I swallow hard and press my face to his chest. “It’s better than okay. J Lo only wishes Ben Affleck loved her this much.”
He holds me tight. “So that’s a yes?”
I nod quickly. “Yes.” I wipe my eyes and pull back to smile at him.
His gaze holds mine for a long moment. He already knew how I felt about him, and I knew how he felt about me. It’s still nice to stand here and live in it all for a second. We’re so lucky it worked out the way it did.
“So are you going to tell me the rest of the story?”
He pushes my hair out of my face. “After the limo ride to the airport, it’s mostly a blur for me too.” He nods toward the street, where a limo I hadn’t even noticed awaits. “I know it’s not a parade through Santorini, but I thought maybe we could redo the rest of it together. It’s the most important decision I ever made. And the best one. I’d like to remember it.”
I’m blinking back tears again. It was by far the best decision I ever made too. I’d be inclined to wonder if Drunk Keeley was some kind of all-knowing genius, except Drunk Keeley also once thought it would be “funny” to try to sneak over the border into Canada. So probably not.
I slide my hand into his. “We probably need a classy, elegant story to tell Daisy one day.”
He grins. “So this is going to be classy and elegant? That’s disappointing.”
“We’re 100 percent still having sex in that limo.”
He laughs and pulls me against him again. “We’re only ten minutes from the airport,” he whispers. “It’ll have to be fast.”
I pull his mouth to mine. “That’s okay.”
I’m no longer certain the O’Keefe curse is going to get me, but the one thing I’m sure of is that it’s not about how long things last.
It’s about making sure you love the time you have, and the people you spend it with.
And I do. I really, really do.
THE END
Subscribe to my mailing list here for a very spicy chapter about what happened that night in the apartment.
OceanofPDF.com
ALSO BY ELIZABETH O'ROARK
The Devil Series:
A Deal with the Devil
The Devil and the Deep Blue Sea
The Devil You Know
* * *
Waking Olivia
Drowning Erin
The Parallel Series
* * *
Get a free novella, The Priest, by subscribing to the newsletter here.
Or turn the page to read the first chapter of
The Summer We Fell, arriving May 4th.
OceanofPDF.com
OceanofPDF.com
THE SUMMER WE FELL
It wasn’t that long ago that I could get through an airport without being recognized. I miss that.
Today my sunglasses will remain on. It’s one of those obnoxious “I’m a celebrity!” moves I’ve always hated, but that’s better than a bunch of commentary about my current appearance. I slept most of the way from Lisbon to San Francisco thanks to my handy stash of Ambien, but I’m still fucked in the head from the call Donna made just before I got on the flight.
Donna has always been a ball of energy, cheerful and indefatigable. I can’t imagine her any other way. Of all the people in the world, why does it have to be her? Why is it that the people who most deserve to live seem to be taken too soon, and the ones who deserve it least, like me, seem to flourish?