Page 45 of One Night Bride
“Fucking shit bird!” I yelled, borrowing the phrase Amelia used all the time for these nasty rat birds.
Remington stood and swiped at the intruder even as it flew away. I rolled out of the chair as it decided to tip all the way backward, landing on all fours on the wood deck like a cat. My skirt caught the breeze. And boy was it breezy without underwear.
I looked over my shoulder in time to see Remington shake his fist at the seagull before looking down at me.
“Are you—” Remington did a double take, his words dying as he saw everything. And I do mean everything. He grinned, suddenly not caring that one of the evil seagulls of Auburn Hill had attacked me. Fucker stole my bread.
I pulled my skirt over my bare ass and tried to stand up, which was pretty much impossible with this short dress, the breeze, and the way my heart was pumping double time. Remington gave me a hand, helping me up and keeping me pressed against his chest.
“That was a nice surprise,” he rumbled, still with that shit-eating grin.
My face was turning as pink as the flowers on this dress. “That was supposed to be a surprise for later. Damn birds…”
He chuckled. “You know, I think I love you a little more each day, Esme Waldo.”
I bit back a smile. “Yeah, yeah. You just say that because I flashed you.”
His grin left and his eyes went dark on me. “Nope. I say it because it’s true.” He set me away from him and pushed a hand in his pocket. “And I was going to save this surprise for later too, but since we’re just throwing them around…”
He went down on one knee and held out my ring. The gorgeous rock I’d worn in Wyoming, but hadn’t touched since. I’d kept it on my nightstand where I saw it every day, but I hadn’t put it back on my finger. It was a line in the sand I wasn’t ready to step across. The adrenaline surge of surviving a seagull attack was nothing compared to seeing Remington on his knee and his heart in his eyes.
“I know you’re still scared about your business handling our marriage, but I love you, Esme. I want to love you openly, publicly, in whatever state or country we choose, and for as long as we both breathe on this planet. We did everything backward and yet here we are, in the same place I knew we would be from the moment I laid eyes on you: in love. Marry me for real, Esme.”
I bit my lip as my eyes flooded with tears. A seagull squawked on the beach down below as I considered my words.
“You know I love you, but I just don’t know how to make this work.”
He squeezed my hand. “I promise you, we will find a way to make it all work out. Do you trust me?”
I tilted my head and thought about every encounter I’d had with him. He was honorable. A man of morals and principles. A guy who would take a young boy under his wing and be his surrogate parent. Absolutely trustworthy.
“Yes, I really do,” I answered honestly.
“Then say you’ll marry me for real, and I promise you I’ll make everything work out.”
There was an urgency there in his voice and in the lines on his face. A raw vulnerability in the way he wasn’t afraid to beg. Everything in me, besides one tiny voice in the back of my head who liked to yammer on about the sky falling, screamed yes.
I nodded, finally coming to terms with the idea. “Yes. Okay. Yes. Let’s do this.”
Remington’s face broke out into a smile and he was suddenly on his feet, spinning me around in a circle. The sun was just dipping into the sea turning the sky into a kaleidoscope of reds and oranges. He whooped, the sound echoing out across the water. My heart felt ready to burst.
When he put me down, his hands came up to cup my face before he kissed me so deep I forgot all about dinner and wondered if we could just slide down to the deck to get lost in each other. But then he pulled back, breathing hard and putting space between us.
“I want my hand up your skirt so bad I might break a blood vessel, but let’s have a seat and talk this through, okay?”
“Can’t we talk after?” I whined, trying to lean back in.
He held me off though, his jaw hardening. “No,” he said gruffly. “We have no problem in the sex department. It’s everything else that we need to talk about. This is too important to sweep it under the rug.”
Dammit. He was right. We’d rushed into sex before and look where that got us. Married and confused. We needed to circle back and talk it out if we were to give this marriage a real go this time. We had issues to unpack. Mostly mine.
I sighed and stepped back. Remington moved to right my chair, waiting until I sat again before heading back into the house for our next entrée. He brought out sizzling scallops and risotto. My mouth watered and my libido sat in the corner and pouted while my attention shifted elsewhere. Mom’s risotto was a rare delicacy I intended to enjoy to the fullest.
We dug in and ate.
“Holy shit,” Remington said around a mouthful of risotto.
“I know, right?” I muttered before shoving in a huge forkful.
