Page 41 of Past Due

Chapter Twelve

Married.

I’m getting married.

Even now, more than three hours after accepting Besian’s unexpected proposal, I couldn’t stop smiling. He glanced over at me from the driver’s seat and grasped my hand. “Your face is going to be sore if you keep that up.”

“I can’t help it! I’m happy!”

“No second thoughts?” He was trying to sound playful, but I could hear the slight uncertainty in his voice. It seemed as though this ultra-confident, sometimes arrogant man, had a weak spot—me.

I gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. “Nope.”

And I really didn’t have any reservations. The moment he had asked me to marry him I had experienced the most incredible sense of calm. It was a moment of clarity where everything felt right. I loved him. He loved me. We were meant to be together, and why not be together as husband and wife?

I wasn’t naïve. I knew the road ahead would be bumpy. We hadn’t dated for months or years. We hadn’t tried cohabitating. We hadn’t even had actual all-the-way sex yet.

But none of that mattered. I wasn’t afraid of compromise. I wasn’t afraid to figure things out along the way. I believed in us.

“I’m sorry the proposal wasn’t done properly.”

Confused, I asked, “How was it improper?”

“No ring, for one.” He frowned at my unadorned ring finger. “We’ll get one as soon as we get to Tirana.”

“Besian, please, believe me when I say that a diamond on a gold band is the last thing I want or need. As far as I’m concerned, the proposal was perfect. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“That may be, but you do need a ring. It doesn’t have to be a diamond,” he insisted before I could argue. “Sapphire? Emerald? Ruby?”

Realizing this was a moment that required compromise, I relented. It was obvious that giving me a ring was very important to him. It was an accepted symbol of commitment, after all. “I’ll cherish and wear whatever you choose for me.”

“I won’t make it flashy,” he promised. “I know that’s not who you are.”

“Thank you.”

Still holding my hand, he navigated down the highway. We drove along in silence for a while, me enjoying the scenery and him seemingly lost in thought. As we drew near the Albanian capital, Besian cleared his throat, as if nervous. “So, about my family...”

“Yes?” My stomach clenched with anxiety as I suddenly wondered if I was about to find out they wouldn’t approve of me.

“My niece, Rina, runs the household. She can be overbearing so if she tries to boss you around let me know, and I’ll take care of it.”

“I’m sure I can handle it. I mean, Aston is my best friend, and she’s probably the bossiest woman in Houston.”

He laughed. “That’s true.”

“Who else am I going to meet?”

“Zec may be around,” he said and made a face. “Have you met him?”

“Briefly,” I said, remembering the terrifying man with the gruesome scar across his throat. “At the hospital when you were shot,” I clarified. “He was in the hallway when I left your room. I asked Ben about him later, and he told me who he was.”

“He can be intimidating, I know, but he’s a solid guy. Steady. Loyal. He’ll treat you with the respect you deserve.”

Curious, I asked, “What happened to his throat?”

“It was slashed when he was younger.”

“How young?”

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