Convict: A Bad Boy Romance (32 page)

Luna suddenly looks skeptical, but I get out of the car and then pull her out and we walk up the front steps together. I unlock the door, then put one hand over her eyes.

“This had better not be a puppy,” she says, sounding a little nervous. “I don’t want a puppy, they’re so much work.”

“Not a puppy,” I say, pushing the door open and guiding her inside.

The moment I take my hand off her eyes, she blinks and then starts laughing.

“You unpacked!” she says, between peals of laughter. “Oh, my God, you unpacked.”

I grin, and she hugs me tight, still laughing.

“Look at all this
stuff
I didn’t know you had,” Luna says. “Holy shit, are those lamps? Don’t tell me you’ve got more than two plates now.”

“I’ve got
eight
plates,” I brag.

She giggles against me, then sighs.

“God, I was afraid you were gonna propose or something,” she says.

Now it’s my turn for my heart to clench in my chest. Proposing isn’t in my immediate plans, but we’ve only been together a little over a month, so of course it’s not.

Why would she be afraid of me proposing?
I wonder, suddenly nervous.

When I think of me in a year, Luna’s there. When I think of me in five years, in ten years, she’s there. If she doesn’t want to get married, fine, but I need her in my life.

“Would that be so bad?” I ask, tentatively.

Luna looks up at me, and there’s a long moment where I think neither of us knows what to say.

“That would just have been really fast is all,” she finally says.

I grin with relief.

“Oh, shit, Stone, I’m sorry,” she says, and takes my face in her hands. “I swear I just meant that we’ve only been together for a month, and, I mean, this is really great but also it’s just so soon and...”

I kiss her so she stops blathering on.

“Agreed,” I say. “I promise any upcoming surprises aren’t a proposal.”

Luna laughs.

“Thanks,” she says, and I lean my forehead against hers.

“I love you, though,” I say.

I don’t even mean to say it, it just slips out. I hold my breath for a second, but nothing happens.

I don’t even care if she says it back
, I realize.
It’s true, so fuck everything else.

“I know,” Luna says. “You unpacked.”

“I’m gonna be here a while,” I say.

For another moment, I just hold her and we both look at my living room.

“Do you want me to call you by your real name?” Luna asks suddenly.

“Ellwood?” I say, a little incredulous.

“Didn’t you go by Sam?” she says.

“I like Stone,” I say. “Ellwood Sam was a fuck up. I’d rather be Stone.”

I don’t say,
I like being Stone because that’s who I am to you
.

“Stone,” Luna says.

“Hm?”

“I love you too,” she says.

I kiss her on top of her head, her hair wild around my face, and we stand there for another moment, just holding each other.

“Stone,” Luna says after a moment.

“Yeah?”

“Your futon is still crooked,” she points out.

I put my hand under her shirt and slide it up the warm skin of her back.

“That was your fault,” I tease.

She looks up at me and hooks one finger under the waistband of my jeans.

“Wanna break it more?” she asks, grinning devilishly.

I kiss her and she presses herself against me, warm and pliant and just a little drunk.

For just a moment I think,
how did I get this lucky?

Then I grab her ass, pick her up, and carry her to the futon.

I
’m sneakily eating
an Oreo over the kitchen sink when Stone drives into the driveway in a bright red convertible.

I stop eating mid-chew.

Did he steal that?
I wonder in mild alarm.

Not that he’s stolen anything in the past six years, at least not that I
know
of, but I don’t know where else he’d get a vintage sports car.

He walks through kitchen door, hands in the pockets of his leather jacket.

“You’re hiding Oreos from me again,” he says.

I look at the half Oreo in my hand, then finish chewing the half Oreo already in my mouth.

“No, I’m not?” I say.

He walks over, takes the Oreo half from my hand, and eats it.

“That’s what you get for hiding them from me,” he says around the mouthful of cookie.

I make a face, swallowing.

“Where did you get that?” I ask, pointing at the car.

He looks out the window, like there’s
any
question as to what I’m talking about.

“Borrowed it from Eddie,” he says, then leans against the fridge and grins. “I
told
you I was taking you out in style tonight, even if you’d rather eat Oreos over the sink like an animal.”

“Does Eddie know?” I tease, even as I walk up to Stone and give him a
hello
kiss.

“I’m an almost-entirely law abiding citizen,” he says, putting one arm around me. “I only break the laws that don’t matter.”

He means the laws about speed limits, stop signs, and marijuana, mostly.

“I just don’t want to wind up in jail on our fancy date,” I say.

“That only happened once, and it was because
you
arrested me,” he says, then gives my ass a squeeze through my dress. “You ready? I don’t want to be late.”

“Yeah, I gotta grab my purse,” I say, and walk into our bedroom.

“Bring flip flops too,” he calls. “And a jacket.”

Alone in the bedroom, I frown and wonder what’s going on. He won’t tell me where we’re going, and he’s been acting a little
weird
lately. Last week, I caught him on the phone with my mom, and he tried to act like they were just chatting.

Stone doesn’t
chat
on the phone.

I have some obvious suspicions, but I’m trying not to get my hopes up. We’ve talked marriage a couple of times, but neither of us is in a hurry.

“I’d be readier if you told me where we were going,” I say when I come back into the living room. Stone is standing there, rattling his keys in his hand, looking out the window at the car.

I tilt my head to one side.

“You’re
sure
you didn’t steal it?” I ask. “You seem nervous.”

We look at each other for long moment.

“Of course I didn’t steal it,” Stone says. “Come on.”

* * *

W
e drive
up the coast for a long time, and I have to admit: driving the Pacific Coast Highway, close to sunset, with the wind in my hair, is
glorious
. Yes, my hair will be a nightmare later, but I don’t care.

“You know I grew up here, right?” I ask as we drive.

He gives me a
duh
look.

“Yeah, I was aware,” he says dryly.

“I’m just saying I’m gonna be hard to surprise,” I say. “I’ve been most places around Tortuga.”

“You’ve probably been here already,” he admits.

“So just tell me where we’re going,” I say.

He grins.

“No,” he says.

“Come on,” I coax, and look around. “We’re past the elephant seal beaches already, so it’s not there. We’re coming on up Hearst Castle, but we did that a couple months ago, so I don’t know why you wouldn’t just tell me we were going there.”

“Luna, stop trying to figure it out and enjoy this,” he says, laughing.

“But I
like
figuring things out,” I say. “This is the fun part for me.”

“My lips are sealed,” he says.

I look out the window and think.

“We’re not going too far, because I think you’re trying to get there before sundown,” I say. “Somewhere in San Simeon? That beachside bar?”

Stone grins and shrugs.

“I think there’s a ranch down there,” I muse. “We could be horseback riding, though you didn’t tell me to wear pants. Then again, I’m not sure you’d think of that.”

“Probably not,” he admits.

“Wine tasting?” I ask.

Stone snorts.

“All this for wine tasting?” he says. “Give me a little credit, detective. You can taste wine wearing jeans.”

We pass the tiny town of San Simeon, and I keep wracking my brain. It’s beautiful up here, but signs of civilization are pretty few and far between.

“Is that fancy restaurant with the windows up here?” I ask.

Stone shrugs, and I laugh.

“Did I figure it out?” I say.

He just looks over at me and winks.

A few minutes later, he slows and turns left, toward the ocean. He drives
very
carefully down a short dirt road, then parks at the end, on top of a cliff overlooking the ocean. No fancy restaurant.

“Come on,” Stone says, getting out of the car.

“Do we need to put the top—”

“It’s fine,” he says, opening my door and pulling me out.

I look at him suspiciously again, and he tries to smile, but he just looks nervous.

I start doing some math in my head — nervous boyfriend plus sunset over the ocean plus fancy date — and my suspicions get stronger.

Quit it,
I think.
This is probably just a nice picnic or something. Your anniversary is soon. Or, your sort-of anniversary.

It’s been a year since the first time we had sex, is what I mean.

Stone leads me down a steep path, and I wish he’d suggested I wear sturdier footwear than flip flops, but he doesn’t do a lot of thinking about shoes.

Suddenly, when we get to the bottom, I know where we are.

“This is that movie set that got half-buried,” I say.

“Shit,” Stone says, and grins. “I almost thought I knew about something that you didn’t.”

I laugh, and he takes my hand, leading me along the beach as the sun dips lower. In the 1940s, some director needed a remote beach to make a movie on, and for some reason they decided on this spot. They constructed a bunch of huge sets, buildings complete with walls and everything, and then just
left
them here when they were finished.

I used to sneak down here sometimes as a teenager. Time and the ocean has turned it into ruins. The walls and sets are covered in graffiti, and they’re eerily beautiful, especially at night.

“Stop,” Stone says.

I come to a halt, heart pounding, and look over at him.

It’s just some sweet gesture
, I tell myself.
He has no idea that he’s making you think he’s going to propose.

He looks more nervous than I’ve ever seen him. Hell, he got kidnapped at gunpoint and didn’t look as worked up about it as he looks right now, on this nice beach with no one but me.

“Are you okay?” I ask.

Stone smiles and looks away at the sunset.

“I’m fine,” he says. “Close your eyes and take my hand.”

“Oh, come—”

“Please?” he says, and raises my hand to his mouth.

I close my eyes. My pulse is racing, and I think I’m starting to sweat just from nerves as he leads me gently across the sand.

Chill out,
I think over and over again.
And don’t you DARE be disappointed when it’s something sweet and lovely and heartfelt and romantic that isn’t a proposal.

Finally he stops, puts both hands on my shoulders, and turns me. I can feel the fine mist of salt spray along my arms and I feel like my stomach is a balloon being twisted into a dog or something.

I take a deep breath. Stone rests his chin on top of my head, and I can feel him take a deep breath. I force myself to stay quiet and not ruin the moment.

“Okay, ope—”

Cold washes over my feet and I
shriek
, my eyes opening as I dart up the sand.

“Shit!” Stone shouts, coming after me.

The wave recedes, and he looks at his feet, his shoes waterlogged, the bottom of his pants soggy. At least I’m wearing flip flops and a skirt.

Then we look at each other, and I start laughing, holding out my hand, facing the ocean. He takes it and pulls me into his chest, moving us away from the water.

“God dammit,” he says, but we’re both laughing.

“Tide’s coming in,” I say. “You okay?”

“I’m wet,” he says. “These
were
nice shoes.”

“They might dry out okay,” I say, looking down. “It’s worth a shot.”

“Forget the shoes,” he says. “Just turn around.”

I do, and when I see the bright blue graffiti on the high concrete wall behind me, my breath catches in my throat.

“
O
h
,” I finally manage to say.

There’s a red heart behind it, obscuring the rest of the graffiti.

Stone wraps his arms around me from behind and holds a box in front of me. Inside is a ring, a square emerald in a chunky gold setting.

I can’t fucking believe it.

“Luna,” Stone says, his voice quiet and serious. “Will you marry me?”

I nod, because I’m suddenly so choked up I can’t even speak.

Stone laughs in my ear.

“Come on, I asked,” he says. “You at least have to
say
yes.”

That breaks the spell, and I start laughing too, and Stone pulls me around so we’re facing each other, the sunset on one side and the graffiti on the other.

“Yes,” I say, taking his face in my hands and kissing him. “Yes, of course,
yes.
”

He slides the ring onto my finger, and it shines in the glow of the sunset. It feels weird and heavy on my finger, but in a good way.

“You don’t really wear much jewelry,” he says, our foreheads together as he looks at the ring on my hand. “And you never seemed that interested in diamonds, so I talked to your mom and she suggested this jeweler over in San Rafael—”

“Stone, shut up,” I say. “I love it.”

“Good,” he says. “That’s all I cared about.”

We kiss again, slowly, as the sun sinks below the horizon. The blue letters on the red heart nearly glowing, we stand there, in each other’s arms, looking at it.

“Can I tell you something?” he asks.

“Is it a confession about vandalizing public property?” I ask, dryly. “Because I’m willing to believe that you just
happened
to stumble across this, there being no physical evidence to suggest otherwise.”

He chuckles into my hair.

“Yeah, and it just
happened
to coincide with the one-year anniversary of the time I painted my garage because I hoped you’d come investigate,” he says.

“Lucky break,” I say.

“I watched about a thousand hours of proposal videos online,” he says, then laughs. “Actually, the other night, when I was watching something on my phone at the kitchen table after you went to bed, that’s what I was doing. I really thought you busted me.”

“I assumed it was something with cars,” I say. “I didn’t even think about it.”

He swallows.

“I wanted to do it well,” he goes on. “And I wanted it to be really meaningful, and I had this idea that I was going to give you a big speech about how much I love you and then, I don’t know, have a band or something and flowers everywhere and doves and champagne and I don’t know what.”

“Oh, god,” I say, making a face, and Stone smiles.

“Right,” he says. “So I did some illegal shit instead, and Luna, I don’t have a speech and I don’t even know what I’m about to say, but you’re really great, and I love you, and you make me a better person than I could ever be otherwise, and I want to be with you for the rest of my life so let’s get married.”

“I love you too,” I say. “And Stone, you don’t give yourself enough credit.”

He looks puzzled.

“For what?”

“For any of this,” I say. “For doing the right thing, for going straight, for sticking it out with me.”

“That part was easy,” he says, and I laugh.

“Even when I hide Oreos from you?”

Stone just sighs.

“You eat them all if you know they’re in the house,” I say defensively. “I had no choice.”

“Don’t ruin my proposal,” he teases. “This was expertly crafted.”

I turn my head and look at the graffiti on the ruined wall.

“When
did
you do this?” I ask.

“I made dinner reservations at the fancy place, too,” he says, avoiding the question.

The sun’s gone below the horizon, the light fading. I know we should go back up the cliff before it’s dark, but I just want one more minute here, alone, with Stone and MARRY ME, LUNA in giant letters.

“It must have been at night,” I murmur. “Someone would see you from the highway in the daytime.”

“I’m not telling,” he says. “You’re gonna have to figure it out.”

“Did you at least learn your lesson about fingerprints and wear gloves this time?” I ask.

He just kisses my forehead. That probably means
no
.

“It’s okay,” I say. “I love you anyway.”