Page 112 of Bourbon & Blood

I stood up, running the water and the paper pulp through the screen, taking it over to the folding table and setting it down, pressing and squeezing the water out and lifting the board to flip the freshly pressed damp paper out of the mold and out to dry.

We were home, out in the swamp, and I was working on my passion rather than toiling behind the bar these days.

I was more comfortable out here than back in the city anymore, and I’d cut way back on my hours at the bar. Down to only three nights a week, if I could help it; and most of my money nowadays went into more supplies to keep my side hustles alive.

“Lookin’ good, cher.” La Croix’s arms went around my waist and he kissed my shoulder just the other side of my tank top’s strap.

“Phew,” I said. “It’s hot out here, today. Boy howdy.”

He chuckled and held a glass of sweet tea loaded with ice in front of me.

“You spoil me,” I declared, leaning way back against him and he brought his mouth to mine.

“Not near enough,” he said and I laughed.

“Are you kidding me?”

He shook his head.

“You remember back when you asked when you’d get your great-grandmamma’s ring back?” he asked.

I took the mason jar down from my lips and swallowed the mouthful of tea I’d taken, turning around in the circle of his arms. The cord and my great-grandmother’s ring were missing from around his neck, where they usually were.

“Yes,” I said, a lump forming in my throat as he slowly got to one knee.

“Alina,” he murmured, holding the ring up to me, only it wasn’t dented like it was.

Tears sprang to my eyes as I blindly set my tea behind me, neither one of us caring when I missed the table and it crashed to the barge deck.

“Baby, what’re you doing?” I asked.

“Oh, I think you know,” he said with a wicked grin.

“Are you serious?” I demanded.

His smile faded. “You know I don’t do shit I don’t mean,” he said.

“Don’t you bullshit me, La Croix,” I warned and he remained absolutely and perfectly silent, the gravity of the question in his dark and nearly unreadable eyes… but I knew the trick… I knew all of his secrets, and I accepted him wholly for who he was. Not only did I love this man, I loved this life with him and there really was only one thing more and he was offering it, holding up my grandmother’s ring, the silence deafening before he dropped those two little words that I longed to hear.

“Marry me?”

I leaped into his arms, sliding down his body and into his lap, kissing his tattooed face, and wrapping my arms around him as I squealed and cried tears of joy.

“Yes,” I promised him and he held me tight.

“Now don’t do that, cher,” he said, but he was smiling… but I couldn’t help myself.

I knew he hated it when I cried, but I was just too happy not to.

“This life ain’t somethin’ to be so excited about,” he tried to warn as he had countless times and I shook my head.

“I disagree,” I said. “This life isexactlywhat I want,” I told him. “I love you, and since coming into this life with you? I never knew what free really meant. I onlythoughtI was free.”

He smiled at me then, a rare, full smile and not simply a smirk.

“Now you’re gettin’ it,” he declared and I grinned as he slipped the ring onto my finger.

“Oh no, boy…nowI’ve got it,” I said and I bit his bottom lip. I laughed, squealing as he picked me up and marched me into the house and out of the sun.

That was alright. I’d found that I thrived better in the dark since meeting him anyway.

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