he put me gently on the bed. “What if I use that voice accidentally?”
As he stretched out next to me and pulled me in to him, he said, “Then I’d have to assume that you need reassurance. In which case, I’d have to carry you off somewhere and love you until you were totally convinced.”
God, how could I not love this man with every beat of my heart when he said things like that?
I fell into his fiery emerald eyes as I wrapped my arms around his neck. “I don’t really need reassurance, but I’d really like it if you loved me right now.”
And just like that . . . Owen very eagerly complied.
All. Night. Long.
EPILOGUE
LAYLA
Eight months later . . .
“Owen, tell me again exactly why we’re here when we could be home instead. You could have destroyed a perfectly nice pair of my panties by now,” I teased.
I blinked as he turned on the lantern he’d brought with him from the house, and waved me toward one of the swings in the very same park we’d often escaped to when we were teenagers.
He turned and laid his devastatingly gorgeous smile on me as my ass plopped into the seat.
I put the swing in motion, enjoying the tranquil sway as Owen sat down next to me and pushed with his foot to get his seat moving.
He reached out his hand, and I took it, sighing as he threaded our fingers together.
Suddenly, it really didn’t matter why we were here, or why Owen had been so insistent that we make the drive tonight, after we’d had a really long day at the clinic.
The park was quiet.
It was a beautiful night.
And I had Owen next to me.
Everything was right in my world, as far as I was concerned.
It was Owen who finally broke the silence. “I haven’t been here since that last night we were here together, senior year. I know we both agreed to leave the past behind, but sometimes it feels good to go back and see what it feels like to do things right.”
My heart skittered as I realized what he was trying to do.
He’s looking for some kind of closure.
For the most part, Owen and I had left the past behind.
Since the night he’d asked me to marry him, we’d both looked forward, instead of behind, and Owen had learned to stop asking “what if.”
Instead, he’d just spoiled me rotten in the here and now, and I’d done the same.
I’d finally gotten him partially on board on my save-the-panties mission, meaning he only destroyed one or two pairs a week. Okay, maybe he wasn’t all that on board with it, but I’d discovered a way to cut down his consumption: sometimes I just didn’t wear any panties at all.
So now, instead of wondering what color panties I was wearing every day, his main goal was to figure out if I was wearing any, or if it was a commando day.
I took a deep breath. “Some things are still the same, though,” I told him.
“And what would that be, beautiful?” he asked huskily.
“I thought you were the hottest guy in the world back then, and I still do. All I wanted was for you to kiss me, and I still want that now, too,” I told him in a much more wanton voice than I’d ever used as an adolescent.
He leaned toward me, and our lips met, our swings still in motion.
After he slowly released me, Owen said earnestly, “I did ask you to come here for a reason.”
I sent him a questioning gaze. “I thought we were just being nostalgic.”
He shook his head, stopped his swing, and brought mine to a halt. “I didn’t really do a very good job when I asked you to marry me eight months ago, so I’m going to try it again.”
My heart skittered wildly as Owen pulled a box from the pocket of his jeans, and dropped to one knee.
Oh, God, he really is going to do it all over again.
He cleared his throat. “I should have had the ring last time, and I should have asked the question, Layla, but I didn’t. So now I’m asking. Layla Caine, will you make me the happiest guy in the world, and say yes to a real proposal this time?”
I let out an audible gasp as he popped the box open, and I saw the ring.
It was made of the same beautiful blue diamonds as my pendant, and was also a Mia Hamilton Original.
“Yes.