Page 179 of My Big, Fat, Hot Billionaire Enemy
That look, that touch, his words… my insides turn to warm honey.
“We’ve come a long way, haven’t we?” I whisper, leaning into his touch slightly. “From that disastrous tech expo… humping robot dogs included…”
He groans softly. “Don’t remind me.”
“…to hostile takeovers, sabotage, family vendettas… and somehow ending up… here.” Partners. Lovers. Standing on a secret rooftop garden overlooking the city. It feels surreal. Impossible.
Yet undeniably real.
“It wasn’t exactly a straight path,” he admits, his expression turning serious now, the playful intensity replaced by something deeper, more vulnerable thanI’ve ever seen. He takes both my hands in his, his gaze holding mine captive.
“Lucy,” he begins, his voice low, slightly rough. “We started as adversaries. Circumstances, history, our own damn pride kept throwing obstacles in our way. We fought. We misjudged. We hurt each other.” He takes a deep breath. “But somewhere along the way… everything changed.Ichanged. You showed me there was a different way to build things, a different way to live. You challenged me, you trusted me even when I didn’t deserve it, you… saw me. The real me, under all the Blackwell bullshit.”
My heart aches with the raw honesty in his voice. Tears prickle my eyes.
“You,” he continues, his thumbs stroking the backs of my hands. “Are the strongest, smartest, most infuriatingly optimistic and fundamentally decent person I’ve ever known. You’re rebuilding your family’s legacy, fighting impossible odds, leading with integrity… and you somehow found room to… care about a cynical bastard like me.” He brings one of my hands to his lips, pressing a soft kiss against my knuckles. “I don’t just want a partnership in business, Lucy. I don’t just want you to move in.”
He releases one of my hands and reaches into his pocket.
Yay, the hidden object! The sex toy!
He pulls out a small, dark velvet box. My breath catches in my throat.
Oh no. Wait. That’s not a sex toy. Is he…?
He opens the box.
Inside, nestled against the dark velvet, glows a stunning sapphire ring, flanked by diamonds, set in elegant vintage platinum. It’s exquisite. Definitely old world. But it looks breathtaking.Significant.
Important.
He sinks onto one knee there on the rooftop garden, under the stars, holding the open box towards me, his intense blue eyes filled with terrifying, wonderful sincerity.
“Lucy Hammond,” he says, his voice thick with emotion. “I love you. More than I thought it was possible to love anyone. You are my partner, my anchor, my true north.”
My breath catches in my throat.
My true north? He… is he saying…? The exact feeling, the exact words I used in my own head when I finally understood what he meant to me, how he unconsciously guided me? He feels exactly the same thing!!
I’m literally crying buckets now. Joyful buckets, but buckets nonetheless.
“I want to spend the rest of my life building a future with you,” he continues. “Facing whatever comes next, together. Will you marry me?”
The city sounds fade away. The twinkling lights blur through my tears. All I see is him. Kneeling before me. Offering me not just a ring, but everything.
My lingering fears about adequacy, about our conflicting worlds… they don’t just crumble, they evaporate.
All that’s left is this overwhelming certainty.
Him.
Us.
Yes.
“Yes,” I finally choke out, the tears still streaming down my face, but smiling so wide my face hurts. “Oh my god, Christopher, yes! A thousand times, a billion times, yes!”
He lets out a shaky breath of relief, a huge,brilliant smile transforming his face as he slides the ring onto my finger. It fits perfectly. He stands, pulling me into his arms, crushing me against his chest in a hug that feels amazing.
