Page 112 of Royal Fling
He pushed his upper body up, and I looked into his eyes again.
“Does that mean you want to be my king one day? My real king, I mean?”
He chuckled.
“I don’t know. One day. I guess. I’d be open to it. But for now…”
“I know. One step at a time,” I said.
And he smiled at me.
His smile brightened up my whole world.
He was mine, and most importantly, I was his.
And we had all the time in the world to decide what else we wanted to be together.
Epilogue
10 Months Later
“Ihonestly don’t understand why you dragged me all the way to the store for this,” I bemoaned for the hundredth time since we got into the car with barely a grocery bag full of groceries.
Yaya opened the door and glared at me.
“I’m old. I need all the help I can get around here,” she said, letting me through.
It was my turn to glare at her.
“You? Old and helpless? Only when you need something,” I said.
And it was true. She might be pushing seventy-six but she was anything but helpless. She was probably going to outlive us all.
As soon as I walked into the house, Mom was onto me, grabbing the bag from me.
“Finally. You’re back,” she said to both of us. “Your dad is driving me crazy. He’s desperate for his chocolate bar. I think he might divorce me if I don’t get it to him ASAP.”
I rolled my eyes and glanced at Yaya.
“Can you believe it? The straightest person in this house is being the biggest drama queen.”
Mom laughed and started to walk away and into the kitchen, where I assumed she was going to put the groceries away.
Mom and Dad had gotten married last Christmas. They weren’t beating around the bush. According to Dad, they’d wasted enough years in mourning, so they had little time to waste.
So they tied the knot on the second floor of Melody’s B&B with the ocean view and the Christmas spirit.
“Oh Luke, honey, would you mind getting something from your room?” she asked when she was almost inside the kitchen. Yaya had gone after her.
“Sure,” I said. “What do you need?”
Mom looked at Yaya and then bit her lip.
“Anything. Surprise me,” she said.
I raised an eyebrow and put my hands on my hips.
“What is that supposed to mean?”
