Page 63 of Falling

“Where is it?”

How does this make any sense? So Peter has thought enough about marrying me that he’s bought a ring but has never brought the subject up? He’s usually not this complicated. But then I am, and he knows that.

“In the safe in the bedroom closet.” I sit glaring at him until he rolls his eyes. “I’ll go get it.” He disappears into the bedroom. My heart amps up to double-time when he steps back into the room with a box. “I had it made for you, but if you don’t like it, we can hunt for something else.” He hands me the box.

Slowly, I open the lid. Brontë gasps, but I can’t even get enough oxygen in my lungs for that. It’s not the typical gold and diamond engagement ring.

I slip it on my finger so I can study it better. It’s white gold that looks silver. In the center is a large onyx stone with two smaller diamonds on either side of it. Accent diamonds swirl around them, encasing the main stones. It’s simply the most stunning ring I’ve ever seen.

“It couldn’t be like anyone else’s,” he says. “You’re not like anyone else. It has to be as unique as you are.”

I swallow back tears as I stare at it. Brontë picks up Keats and moves to the bar next to Rand. It’s just Peter and I in the living room now.

“I don’t want to take it off,” I whisper.

“Then this is you telling me it’s time.” Peter takes my hand and pulls me to the bay window I’ve fallen in love with. He gets down on one knee, taking my hands in his. “Geneva Selene Randolph,” he begins.

No, the fact that my initials stand for gunshot residue has not been lost on me.

“I knew from the first day you walked into my office in San Francisco and reamed me a new one for missing the deadline on the Holland building that I was going to spend the rest of my life with you. I just wasn’t sure how to do that.

“I fell in love with you then, and that’s never changed. This last year has been the best of my life. I don’t want it to ever end. Will you marry me so it never will?”

Tears are rolling down my face. I’m not sure I’ve ever cried tears of happiness until this year. Of course, the answer is yes. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to be too easy to get. After all, a girl needs to always keep her man on his toes. Peter would be disappointed if I didn’t.

“Am I expected to move in here?” I ask, raising one eyebrow.

“Yes,” he answers. I can see the corner of his mouth turn up slightly. He knows what I’m doing. “Fine, we can get a place big enough for your workout studio.” He rolls his eyes.

“But we’ll have to give up this window.”

“There are bigger houses on the lake with windows.” His smile spreads across his face.

“How about?—”

“Geneva,” I hear three voices ring out. I sink to my knees with a laugh.

“Then I’d better answer yes. I will marry you, Peter Winsloe.” I press my lips to his. His arms wrap around my waist, pulling me against him. “Do we get to honeymoon at the Grand Canyon?” I ask when he releases me.

“No,” he answers. “But I’m game to do some hiking in Waimea Canyon, Kauai. When I’m not too busy wrestling that Brazilian bikini off of you, that is.”

“You’ve got a deal, Winsloe.”

“Good to hear, Randolph.” Then his lips are back on mine.

* * *

PETER

Most people would think I’m insane for letting Geneva decide when we get engaged. But then they don’t know her like I do. She lets me tie her up in bed, but I have to give back what I take. She just as often ties me down.

Growing up with no control in life does funny things to a person. It takes a tremendous amount of trust for her to let me in, and I don’t take that for granted.

It’s also an odd choice to choose onyx for the main stone in an engagement ring, but Geneva is not like anyone I’ve ever known. I knew the ring had to speak to her on a level that says I know her heart. Anything less would never do. I also didn’t want whatever drink was nearest dumped on my head for getting it wrong.

The tears still rolling down her face as she holds her hand out for Brontë speaks volumes. I knew she wouldn’t want a public display, but having her brother here to share the moment was perfect. I caught him wiping away a tear or two also.

I suspect we’ll have a small wedding with just family. I wonder if she’ll even invite her father. It’s a given that I’ll have Tim and Rand by my side, of course. But I suspect she won’t stand for anyone to give her away.

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