Page 91 of The Fox

She shakes her head. I know she is at a loss for words. “You are my whole life, baby. You are my North Star in the dead winter night, the harbor for this restless ship of a soul. You may be Amelia Conte to the world, but you are mykochanie.”

I take a deep breath, shifting on my knee slightly. “I want to dance in the kitchen with you while Lennon glares at us. I want to run away to the lake. I want to build a home with the one person who I can’t live without. I want you, all of you, for the rest of my life.”

She shuffles toward me, bringing her body above mine as her eyes stare down in wonder.

“Marry me,kochanie. Let me hold you, keep you safe, and love you until I am no longer of this earth.”

I see the tremble of her lips, the way her chest contracts as she attempts to contain her sobs.

“I want you to have my ring, I want to claim you as mine—permanently.”

“Ro,” she breathes.

“Take my ring and I’ll take your last name.” I know that she hasn’t decided on what to do about the Mafia moving forward. I don’t expect her to know for a while, if I’m honest. “I will bear your brand, carry your name. So long as you are mine.”

“Yes,” she exclaims on a sob, and once the ring is on her finger, I rush up to her. Pulling her in, I lift her body to nestle it into mine, her sloppy kisses laced with tears and her lips roam. “Yes. A million yeses in a million lifetimes.” Amelia pulls her head back, her eyes sparkling.

“I am yours.”

EPILOGUE

"Where do you want to go for dinner, baby?" I spin at Rhodes' question, my thoughts whirling. We've combed every small restaurant we can find while here and it has been the best adventure.

"Let's just walk around? Maybe see where we end up?" I suggest with a playful smile on my lips.

He’s walking ahead of me, head on a swivel like always. I’ve told him that I’m the threat, not anyone else, but he just shakes his head and laughs.Men. He walks so damn fast, those long and powerful legs confidently striking the pavement. I lag behind, having stopped to look at a window display.

He stops, realizing I’m not with him, and slightly turns back. His left hand reaches toward me, and I see Rhodes trying not to chuckle at my random stop. He should be used to it by now. I love looking at the pretty things in storefront windows.

His hand does the move again, this time more aggressively.

He wants to hold my hand. He wants me to walk beside him—not behind him like every other man in my life. No, Rhodes wants to be by my side because we are equals, in all facets. I may submit to him when the lights dim, the world fading away, but that is something he has earned. It is something I’ve given willingly.

I leave the window, jogging to catch up with him, and I snag his hand in mine. I run my thumb over the fox tattooed on the top of his hand, resting in that crux between his thumb and pointer finger. He’d gotten it the day of our wedding, proudly marking him as mine. I still remember our vows to each other, the way he had stared deeply into my eyes, and without a single waver in his voice, swore to be my safe place, my rock, and to never let anyone bring me down.

I will create sonnets with our murmurs that fall into the dark; your hummingbird heart the rhythm by which my lips will write our song.

There is music coming from the corner, someone is singing, and the cacophony of laughter lures my gaze to a pub nestled there. I glance at Rhodes and he tilts his head that way.

The heavy door gives way to a place that feels like a warm embrace. There's a band on a small wooden stage and the audience is loving it. Rhodes and I move toward the bar, a dark-haired woman wiping down glasses stalks our way.

"What'll it be, guys?”

"Whiskey, neat." Rhodes' deep timber is soft here, his voice confident in the crowded pub. "And she'll have a glass of your finest red."

The raven-haired beauty turns to me. "Red?"

I nod, "Please, but the house is fine. "

She spins, starting our drinks, and I slide onto the bar stool. Rhodes moves to stand behind me, crowding me with his body and my soul comes alive. He'd put me on my knees before we left our B&B, but it wasn't enough. It is never enough.

I crave him, in every way.

"What are you thinking about,kochanie?" It is a question meant just for me, whispered into my ear, his breath hot on my neck. My leather jacket suddenly feels constricting and I want every slip of fabric off my body.

"Nothing."

The bartender returns with our drinks, and Rhodes starts a tab with her before wrapping his arms around my shoulders. "Your body tells me otherwise, Amelia."

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