Hanging On (33 page)

“Why? Do you honestly think it’ll affect my feelings for you?” He exhaled, hard. “Maybe it does, a little.” That admission felt like a punch in the gut. She flinched.

“It makes me angry that someone could treat you like that. If I ever met the guy, I wouldn’t think twice about beating the shit out of him, but I think I wouldn’t be the only person in that line.” Her eyes opened, focusing on the gold pattern in the floor that screamed 1985. She couldn’t quite find the courage to face him.

“Sophia, look at me.” It was an order, something she’d rarely heard from him. Even at work, he framed everything as a request, not just to her, but to everyone.

Reluctantly, she met his eyes. Their ice-blue color was warm and blazing with love.

“When I look at you, I see an intelligent, beautiful, witty, strong, wickedly sexy woman who can quote my favorite Shakespeare play at will. I see the woman I want to spend the rest of my life with.” She couldn’t speak. She wanted to think he could give her a happily-ever-after. She’d wanted to believe in fairy-tale endings for so long. Fragile hope pounded at her walls, working the cracks with frantic precision. She loved this man, and he loved her.

“I see the woman who ignores me every time I ask her to marry me.” That got her. She laughed. “Yet you keep asking.”

“One day, you’ll say yes.” His smile was a bit sad. “‘The course of true love never did run smooth.’ Should we be subject to different rules just because we’re both extremely good-looking?”
276

Tension left her. She laughed again, loving his sense of humor. This was the man she wanted to wake up with every morning. She framed his face in her hands. “Yes.”

His jaw dropped, but his mouth closed as confusion clouded his eyes.

“I’m going to need you to clarify, Sophia. Which question were you answering?”

Smiling, she said, “The one that gets me a giant house and an extremely good-looking husband.”

Lifting Sophia to hold her tight against him, Drew kissed her, gently and deeply.

When he set her down, tears streamed down her cheeks. Squaring her shoulders, she looked at him with undisguised emotion. “I’m not afraid, Drew.”

“It’s about damn time,” he said, turning that charming smile on full blast. “I want a midsummer wedding, and I want you dressed to rival the fair Titania.”

She laughed at him, loving the idea and the vision. “I want a wedding planner.”

Taking her hand, he swept a low bow. “As you wish, my queen.”

THE END

www.sirenpublishing.com/MicheleZurlo/