Page 116 of Don't You Dare Marry Me

Nicola glared. That hadn’t been the reason she was looking for. She already knew that, and it still wasn’t a good reason for the two of them to get married. Then she realized exactly what she’d asked and where she’d gone wrong. Setting her wine glass down heavily, Nicola turned the tables on Abagail.

“Why doyouwant to marryme?”

“Ah, now there’s the question.” Abagail snagged Nicola’s hand again. “I want to marry you because I want you to have everything you deserve, and I think I can provide that.”

“I have what I deserve,” Nicola answered, furrowing her brow. She was even more confused now.

“But when I die, there’s nothing stopping Warren from coming in and taking it all away. I don’t want him to be able to do that.”

“Oh, so this is about Warren.” Nicola’s stomach plummeted. “It’s about still wanting revenge on him.”

“To be fair, Nic, this started with revenge.”

“And turned into something else entirely.”

“It did,” Abagail agreed. “I don’t want Warren to have the ability to hurt you again. It’s less about wanting him to sufferand far more about not wanting you and Alanna to suffer. If we get married, then you’ll be in charge of everything after I die—at least everything that’s solely mine and not the family’s.”

“You can’t write up a will that makes it all mine when you die?” The last thing Nicola wanted to think about was Abagail dying. She wasn’t an idiot. There were twenty-five years between them, but it still wasn’t something that she really wanted to think about and put words to. But Abagail was practical about absolutely everything, so it would make sense that she’d thought this through many times over.

“Yeah, I can. But you want to be married. And it’s an easier, simpler way to do this.” Abagail canted her head to the side. “So marry me.”

Nicola shook her head in disbelief. “I’m still not sure about this. It feels like we’re doing this for the wrong reasons.”

“Isn’t that my line?” Abagail’s lips quirked upward. She reached for the ring box and pried it open.

Nicola hadn’t seen the ring since the day she gave it to Abagail nearly a year ago, since the last time it had been in her possession. She hadn’t even known where Abagail had put it for all this time, and she’d stupidly assumed that somewhere along the way, Abagail had given it to Warren.

But here it was.

The ring that used to sit on her finger, twinkled in the light. The one that had felt so heavy when she’d first put it on after Warren had gotten down on one knee. Would it feel the same this time? Or would this be an entirely different experience?

“Marry me, Nic,” Abagail said again, pulling the ring from the box and holding it out for Nicola to either take or not take. “I want this.”

“Are you sure?” Nicola asked, flicking her gaze from the ring up to Abagail’s eyes. “Because before you didn’t.”

“I didn’t then. But I do now.” Abagail looked completely relaxed.

She’d thought about this, hadn’t she? She’d spent months thinking about this and debating it and analyzing it. Abagail was someone who did that silently all on her own and then she’d plop down the resolution she’d come up with and no explanation to accompany it.

But Nicola had gotten the explanation this time.

“You’re sure about this?” Nicola whispered again, needing that reassurance.

“Yes, Nic. I’m more sure than ever. I want this. I want to take care of you and make sure that you have the world at your fingertips. And I want you to feel like you belong, that you have the family you’ve always wanted, the home you deserve.”

Nicola melted. She bypassed the ring and stood up, half coming around the table and half leaning over it. She grabbed Abagail by the cheeks and pulled her in for a kiss. She nearly fell into Abagail, and thank God Abagail was quick enough to catch her so that Nicola fell into her lap. She laughed loudly, gleefully looking into Abagail’s eyes.

“We’re getting married.”

“We are,” Abagail answered.

“I can’t believe it.”

“You better.” Abagail sucked in a slow breath. “Because it’s happening.”

Nicola moved in and kissed her again. This time, she deepened the kiss, sliding her tongue along Abagail’s lips until she parted them and allowed Nicola in. She stayed there, kissing and humming, and living into her moment of true happiness. She’d all but given up on this dream, working on being satisfied with everything that she had because, fuck, what she had was so good. She never wanted to lose Abagail—ever.

“I love you,” Nicola whispered again. “Thank you.”

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