Total pages in book: 55
Estimated words: 51832 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 259(@200wpm)___ 207(@250wpm)___ 173(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 51832 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 259(@200wpm)___ 207(@250wpm)___ 173(@300wpm)
My heart squeezes and I hold up my finger. “I have the old one, remember? I got it before we left Denver.”
“You need a new one that represents the new us. So, Ana, will you marry me?”
I laugh. “Yes, again, silly man.” He removes the ring on my finger and slides it onto a chain he’s pulled from his pocket. He stands and places it around my neck before he produces a ring that is beyond breathtaking. A round center stone that glistens in the sunlight, and must be two carats is surrounded by smaller diamonds.
My hand trembles as he places it on my fingers and then says, “Are you sure you want to marry me?”
“You know I am.”
“As in right now?
“Now?” I ask. “What do you mean now?”
He lifts a hand and steps backward and suddenly familiar Walker faces are approaching us, right along with Kurt, and a man holding a bible. Tears find a path down my cheeks and Luke pulls me close. “I’m not letting you get away again, baby.”
He has nothing to worry about. On a warm October day in Italy, we stand before friends, who I know are now my family, and we say I do. It is the happiest day of my life. Afterward, we fly to Paris, where our bedroom is glorious enough, that we spend the next twenty-four hours there and never get dressed.
***
One month later...
The Ranch is up for sale, I’ve donated a chunk of the money Darius left me, and I’ve settled into New York living rather well. Luke and I wake on my fifth Sunday morning as his wife, and do what has become our habit. We drink coffee with me in his pajama top and him in his pajama bottom, and watch the news, with every intention of going back to bed, at least for a little while.
That’s when the headlines have me turning up the sound, listening to the female newscaster as she says, “In shocking news, the owner of the Denver Lions, Michael Phillips was killed in a car accident today. Details are forthcoming but not yet available.
I turn off the sound. “Luke,” I breathe out. “It’s just like the way Phillips had people killed. Do you think—”
“Kurt did it? Of course, Kurt did it.”
I grab my phone and punch his number. He answers on the first ring. “My little girl. How is New York?”
“Did you do it?”
“If it involved protecting you, the answer is yes. If you want me to apologize, that will never happen. But you can come to Italy to visit and try to convince me otherwise. I think it’s a good idea that we don’t allow so much time to pass before we see each other again.” A woman laughs in the background and he says, “I need to go. Tell Lucifer hello for me. I mean, Luke,” he amends as I’m about to object. And then he hangs up.
I glance at Luke. “He did it.”
“And so did we, baby.” He catches my hand and kisses my ring. “And I think we all made the world a better place, don’t you?”
THE END