Page 100 of Fake Dark Vows
“Hey, none of this is your fault. I’m the one who is sorry, Rose. I should’ve listened to you. I should never have shut you down without at least hearing you out. If I had, none of this would’ve happened. We’d be soaking our feet on a pool lounger and counting our winnings from the roulette table.”
“Singing along to ‘The First Cut is the Deepest’.”
He smiles, and I can almost see the relief visibly draining from his body. “I haven’t forgotten the leopard print pants.”
“I should hope not.”
“Was that your attempt at a stern voice, Rose?” When I wrinkle my nose, he adds, “I can see that I’m going to have to give you some lessons.”
“You want me to be stern with you?”
“Yes.” He hesitates. “Occasionally. Maybe just a little. Enough to keep me out of trouble, anyway.”
I try to sit up, and he rushes to help, plumping the pillows behind me and easing me back down against them. “I thought I was the one who needed to be kept out of trouble.”
He rubs his face, and I notice his hand trembling. “Seriously, Rose, if this has taught me one thing, it’s that I want to spend the rest of my life protecting you. I’m never going to let you out of my sight again.”
Tears well in my eyes and catch on my eyelashes. “Is that a promise?”
“It’s a promise.” He twists the rings around my fingers. “I want to buy you a proper wedding ring… If you’ll have me.”
“Do you really need to ask?”
As a little girl, I imagined being proposed to by Prince Charming at a grand ball where we would spend the evening dancing together while people admired my dazzling ballgown. Glass slippers optional. As a teenager, I went through a phase of picturing a Freddie Prinze Jr. look-alike taking me for a ride on the back of his Harley and proposing to me with a backdrop of foamy ocean and palm trees.
But I realize now, nothing beats hearing Brandon Weiss asking me if I’ll have him in a hospital room in whichever city we’re currently in, with a needle inserted into the back of my hand, and happy tears pooling around the edge of an oxygen mask. I could never in a million years have predicted it this way, and that’s the whole point, I guess.
Love is unpredictable, and romantic, no matter how it’s dressed.
“I guess, I just need to hear you say it.”
“Yes, I’ll have you, Brandon, with or without the leopard print pants.”
“That can be arranged too.”
We settle into a comfortable silence. I feel bone-weary but full of life with Brandon by my side. Fragile, but the strongest woman in the world. Because, although he said he wants to protect me, he has no idea how badly I want to protect him too.
Maybe, one day, I’ll tell him.
For now, though, I feel as if I can relax for the first time in as long as I can remember.
I remember Harry’s heart attack with a jolt. “How is your dad?”
“They’re sending him home tomorrow.”
Am I imagining it, or did I see him bristle when I mentioned his dad? “Your mom must be happy.”
“I think she’s starting to realize that he was easier to manage when he was in the office all day.”
“I should call my dad, Brandon, let him know that I’m okay. I haven’t spoken to him since we went to Vegas.”
I hope he hasn’t seen any photos of me and Brandon together in the tabloids. I have a whole load of explaining to do when I go home.
“Ah, about that.” Brandon scrunches up his face like he just bit into a slice of lemon. “I may have let it slip that we were back in New York.”
“What? How?” I try to sit up, and my breathing grows too shallow too fast.
“Stay calm. It’s okay, I’ve sorted it.” He strokes my hair away from my face and tells me that my dad knows all about the trip to Vegas and the wedding. “Turns out, he approves of me as a son-in-law.”