Rock Bottom (Tristan & Danika #2)(39)

My heart had started trying to pound its way out of my chest at his first sentence. I sat in stunned silence for a good five minutes while I processed his words.

“I have to say, dead silence was not the reaction I was hoping for.”

I chewed on my lip, still silent, just studying his face like it held all of the answers. Finally, when I did speak, my voice was less than steady. “I still can’t tell if you’re joking.”

He leaned forward, no hint of a smile on his face. “It’s not a joke. That’s what I want, what I’ve wanted from the moment that I realized I was in love with you.”

“Isn’t that a little backwards? Aren’t there a few steps we’ve missed before we start talking about babies?”

My hands moved in slow motion to cover my mouth as he reached into his pocket, pulling out a little white box that I told myself couldn’t be what I thought it was.

His head was bent, and his dimples popped up at me as he shot me a rather pained grin. “Please don’t cry, sweetheart. If you cry, I’ll lose my shit. If you really love me, you won’t make me embarrass myself in front of strangers.”

A little whimper escaped me, my vision getting a touch fuzzy as the world shifted into dream territory.

“You’re going to do it, aren’t you? You’re going to make me lose it in front of this crowd of innocent bystanders.”

“Tristan,” I sobbed, burying my face in my hands. “Is that…?” My voice cracked on the question.

His laugh was a gentle rumble that made me want to hit him and kiss him and sob like a baby all at the same time.

“What is that?” I asked, still not looking at him.

He tried to tug my hands away from my face, but I didn’t budge. “Danika…look and see.”

I shook my head, crying as quietly as I could, which wasn’t quiet at all.

He sighed, but his voice was thick with tears when he spoke. “Marry me.”

I sobbed harder, thinking that this couldn’t be real. I was dreaming, except that in a dream, I’d have been able to stop crying like a lunatic and say yes.

“Shouldn’t you be on your knee or something?” I sniveled.

“Goddammit, you’re crying like baby and still you manage to sass me,” he said wryly.

But he was moving, kneeling down in front of me, his hand going to my thigh to rub soothingly.

“Marry me,” he said again.

I threw myself into his arms, burrowing my face in his neck as I bawled my heart out.

“Aw, sweetheart,” he soothed, running a hand over my hair, making little sympathetic noises in his throat.

I kept sobbing, great, loud, gasping waves of them, and he just held and soothed me. In that moment, I’d have sworn there was not a more perfect man on earth.

“Is that a yes?” he finally asked.

“Yes, yes, yes, yes,” I cried, still not looking at him, still carrying on like a crazy woman. Gently, almost sneakily, he slipped a ring I’d never even set eyes on onto my finger.

Finally, after I’d taken long enough to calm down and look at him, saw the sheen of tears in his eyes, the gentle smile on his face, I went and lost it again.

“We shouldn’t have done that in public,” I told him later, when we were finally alone in our borrowed beach house. “I was a mess. That was a horrible idea.”

I couldn’t stop smiling, studying the shiny rock on my finger like it held the secrets of the universe.

We were sitting side by side on a large beach settee, watching the sun set on the ocean. I couldn’t remember a more perfect day.

“Well, I know that now. I had this strange notion in my head that you’d like a romantic gesture in public, and…I stand corrected.”

“It’s a beautiful ring.” It was a princess cut, surrounded by baguettes on a white gold band. I didn’t know a thing about diamonds, but it looked big to me, and it sparkled brilliantly.

“I’ve been saving up. I wanted it to be perfect.”

“This is insane. You know that, right? What are we going to tell people.” I was thinking of only a few people in particular when I said that.

“Bev won’t be too happy about this,” he observed, basically reading my mind. “She’ll say you’re way too young.”

“Yes, she will. She doesn’t think anyone should get married before thirty. She says that all the time. I know this sounds weird, but can we not tell her? Just for a little while. I want to show her that this is not a rash decision, and the only thing that will prove that to her is time.”

“Whatever you need to do, sweetheart. As long as I’ve got my ring on your finger, and you have my name.”

That sounded so divine I could hardly stand it.

“Do you mind if I wear it on a chain around my neck sometimes? Just for now.”

“Not at all, but you have to do something for me. Don’t make me wait. Let’s get married as soon as we get back to Vegas.”

“Danika Vega,” I said dreamily, practically floating on my own sense of contentment. What else could I ever want, if I had Tristan forever? I couldn’t come up with one thing.

“Is that a yes?” he asked, a laugh in his voice.

“I already said yes.”

“I mean yes to getting married the second we get back into town.”