Page 131 of Possession

“Damn straight.” She stared off up the beach at a man and his dog scampering along the shore. She rubbed her thumb over the wetness gathering under her eyes. “Like not knowing you were the absolute perfect man for me. You jackass.”

I laughed. “Probably the sweetest thing you’ve ever said to me. Well, other than your promise to always swallow. That was right up there.”

For a second, she didn’t move. Then she whacked my arm. “I never promised that. See, jackass. Romantic moment and you throw in sex.”

“True. That was uncalled for. I need to make it up to you.”

She sniffed haughtily, in full Stuart-Copeland heiress mode. “Yes, you do.”

“You’re absolutely right.” I flicked aside the pile of sand near my hip and unearthed my crudely made present.

Thank God it was still there, or else we would’ve been renting a crew of excavators to dig up the beach. Leave it to us. We’d just moved in, and already ruining the neighborhood.

But luckily, no need for that, because my gift was right where it should be. I picked it up and held it out with fingers that only shook a little.

Fine, I was lying again, and I’d promised to stop doing that.

They were shaking a hell of a lot.

“What is—” She frowned and touched the box. “My stained glass. You took more from my worktable.”

“Yes. And I built this stupid box myself while you were asleep. So, try not to laugh too hard.”

She traced her finger over the hinged lid. “Laugh? This is the most beautiful gift I’ve ever been given.”

“You’re far too kind.” But hey, this romance stuff wasn’t too bad if it inclined one’s loved one to offer unnecessary praise. I was just shameless enough to accept it too. “Now look inside.”

“There’s more? This box is already so much. Especially after those lovely mud-brown hiking boots in size twelve that arrived for Christmas from Amazon.”

Her eyeroll made me laugh into her hair. “I told you those were for my mother.”

“Her feet can’t possibly be that big. Can they?”

I shrugged. “Hate to brag, but we run large in my family.”

“I have a feeling there’s a penis reference buried in there, so moving on.” She edged a nail under the lip of the lid and eased it open.

And said absolutely nothing at all.

“This is me, making it up to you.” I set my chin on her shoulder and took the ring out of the bed of pale blue tissue paper, since she’d made no move to do so herself. “Let’s see if it fits.”

She dropped the box to her lap then immediately, she picked it up again and cradled it to her chest. “That’s a solitaire cut ring.”

“It is.”

“With a white gold band.”

“Right again.”

“An aquamarine, like the heart of the sea,” she whispered. “Surrounded by eight diamonds.”

“Nine. But yes to all the rest.”

She sneaked another look at the ring I still held. “That stone must be twelve carats.”

“Fourteen,” I corrected.

“You expect me to walk around with that on every day? I’m going to be doing more shows with my art, ones with pieces you’re not allowed to buy.”

---