Page 132 of Possession

My lips twitched. “Duly noted, Ms. Copeland.”

“How am I supposed to work on my pieces with that boulder getting in my way?”

“You’re not.” I slipped my other hand into my pocket and produced a small black box. “The big one is for special occasions.” I thumbed open the lid. “This is for every day.”

“Oh, Blake.” She stared at the woven band of white gold, inlayed with diamonds and aquamarines. “You know I’m going to have to wear both.”

I was afraid to hope. To even breathe. “Does that mean you’re saying yes?”

She lifted her steady gaze to mine. “You haven’t asked me anything yet.”

“Always a ballbreaker.”

A sneaky smile tipped up the corners of her mouth. “Don’t forget the kneeling thing. I’m only doing this once, so I want the full treatment.” She held out her left hand and waited.

Shaking my head, I untangled our legs and kneeled at her side. “You’re supposed to be standing, you know.”

“No. I want us on the same level.” She rolled to her knees and clutched her box between her breasts with one hand while extending the other. “Always.”

Impossibly moved, I swallowed hard and set down the black box on the sand. “This usually isn’t done with two rings, either.”

“So, improvise, Carson. Don’t be so damn traditional.”

The amusement in her tone made me shut my eyes and say a quick prayer of thanks.

God, I loved this woman. I intended to spend the rest of my life proving it, again and again.

“Will you marry me, Grace Copeland?”

She smiled into my eyes and impatiently wiggled her finger. “Yes, I will. Twice over, Blake Carson.”

I slipped on the slim ring first, then the showstopper. And crushed my mouth to hers.

Her arm came around my neck, and I glanced down at the pointy corner of glass digging into my chest. “It’s both of us,” she murmured. “My glass, your artistry. We made a glass baby.”

For probably the first time in my life, I snorted. “Only baby we’ll be making for a good long while, Ms. Copeland.”

“Hmm. You’ll have to call me Mrs. Carson now.” She tipped her forehead against mine and flicked her tongue against my lips. “Except when we play boss and secretary and you throw me over the desk, you gotta promise to call me Ms. Copeland, okay?”

“Oh yeah. That’s a given.” I rubbed her newly damp cheek. She was crying again, but there was no doubt these tears were happy.

I kissed her again, slower and deeper this time. Because she was going to be my wife, and goddamn it, that meant I should take my time learning every millimeter of her soft, silken mouth.

After a while, we wandered back up the beach, hand in hand. I clutched her left one in mine, and the press of her rings made me want to swing her around and shout that she was mine. Finally, she was all mine.

Just like I was hers.

But there was someone I had to thank first.

I bent to pick up a tiny purple wildflower that was stretching around a rock, searching for the sun.

Gently, Grace touched the petals. “Purple was Gram’s favorite color.”

“I know.” I kissed the flower and lifted it toward the house on the cliff. “I’ll take good care of your girl, Annabelle. I promise.”

Without looking at Grace, I tossed the tiny flower into the ocean.

She leaned against my chest and pressed a kiss against my throat. “I’m going to take care of you too.”

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