Page 177 of Into the Dark

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Page 177 of Into the Dark

Eve considered my words carefully before she moved toward me, gliding around the kitchen as if she were on ice skates. She came around the counter and my body tensed slightly as she stopped in front of me. Then, taking me by complete surprise, she moved forward and wrapped her arms around me to pull me into a tight, floral-scented hug.

“Good. Then welcome to our family, Jake,” she said softly.

I’ve already decided I’ll do it before dinner. I want to enjoy the meal, and I won’t be able to do that if I have to worry about making the speech I’ve been practicing in my head for months. A lot of what I told her parents last night is what I’ll tell her. It’s the truth, bare and straight up, and there’s no need to sugarcoat that shit. I love her. I’d die for her. I want to spend the rest of my life with her. Fuck, that sounds shit.

“So, how did the meeting with Nick and the hotel go?” she asks, sipping more of her champagne.

Her brother and I met with some chancer this afternoon who wants to sell us his rundown building for double what it’s currently worth. We set him straight. Not too much of a loss—not for me. Since selling the club—the Russians got a good deal, but I got a better one—I’ve wanted an investment. Nick wants a new career, so it was more of a blow for him.

I swallow the champagne and nod. “Could have been better. But he’s reconsidering his offer. Said he’ll call us on Monday. But I suspect it will be tomorrow.”

“You and my brother working together—this should be very interesting indeed.”

“I’m not planning on doing much working, to be honest. I have sunbathing to do and kids to look after. School run comes first.”

She sighs. “Sexy househusband fantasy come to life. How lucky am I?”

“Speaking of which…” I clear my throat.

She giggles, completely oblivious to my point, and lifts her glass again to drain the last of it. Her cheeks are already starting to redden, her green eyes glittering with the effects of the expensive champagne. She looks insanely beautiful. When I reach into my pants pocket, her hand freezes midair, a suspicious look passing over her face. She lowers the glass to the table, and her other hand comes up to cover her mouth.

She really didn’t have a clue then. Some part of me thought Rob might have told her, but I guess not.

I stand and move around the table, dropping down to kneel in front of her.

“Jake…oh my god,” she gasps as I reach up to take her hand in mine. The tips of her fingers are cold like they always are, but the palm is hot as she curls it around my fingers and squeezes tight.

“Alex…baby.” I smile nervously, my mouth drying up, nerves tightening over my stomach and chest. Okay, get it together, you fuckwit. You almost lost her. You stared down her mother in her own kitchen. Both of those are more terrifying than this. You know that. “Alex, I love you. Fucking hell, I love you—you know that. And I’ve waited too long to do this. I know that too, but better late than never.” I chance a smile at her, but my face feels weird. “Fuck I’ve ruined it already.” I shake my head and laugh.

She squeezes my hand again. Encouragement this time. “Well, technically, I ruined it because I said no the first time.”

“Yeah, took me fucking months to get over that.”

“That poor ego of yours took a right dent that night. You still look heartbroken, actually.”

“’Cause I am. Now, can you let me finish this, yeah?”

She giggles again and nods. “Okay. You can finish. Go on.”

I nod. I can’t breathe. Seriously, has she ever looked more fucking beautiful than she does right now, her eyes sparkling and cheeks flushed with champagne and excitement? A fucking goddess. Beyond perfection. She’s going to be my wife. I notice then that the tips of her nipples are poking temptingly through the thin black silk of her dress, and my mind is gone momentarily from what it’s trying to do. I need to concentrate. Head in the fucking game, Lawrence.

“Alexandra Marlowe, I love you. You make me happier than I ever thought I could be, happier than I deserve to be—trust me, I know that. I want to spend the rest of my life trying to make you as happy as you make me. I want to wake up every day and get to call you my wife. I want you to have my name and my children—reams of them, four at least: two boys and two girls,”—I wink—“and I never, ever want to imagine my life without you in it.” I don’t say “again” because we don’t talk about that anymore. After it happened, she refused to even mention his name, but slowly, gradually, she’s opening up to me. “I want to spend the rest of my life protecting you and loving you and trying to be the man you deserve…if you’ll let me.”

Reluctantly, I let go of her hand only so I can open the small navy velvet box. The square-cut diamond set in an antique-style ring seems to glow as I uncover it, sharp and bright, so that it sparkles under the soft light of the candles above our heads. Alex makes a small, shocked noise, and I feel her start to tremble slightly as she grips onto my hand tighter.

“Please, baby, will you marry me?” I manage, looking back up at her. Her mouth is open, her eyes glittering with tears. My heart is about to explode.

Do I take the ring out of the box now and put it on her finger, or do I wait until she answers? Why don’t I know this?

She bites down on her lip and very slowly lifts her eyes to mine. The look in her face makes me want to get up and wrap my arms around her, but my knee is pressed so hard into the stone floor that I honestly think I might struggle to get all the way up there.

“Your dad gave his blessing, by the way,” I add. “Asked him last night. Your mum was a harder sell, but she came around in the end.”

She half-sobs, half-laughs. “You really do have a way with Marlowe women, don’t you?” she laughs, wiping the tear away that just escaped.

“You know it. In three days I’ll have your sister eating out of my fucking hand…” I smirk.

“She’s not a Marlowe anymore, actually,” she points out.




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