Page 120 of Sinclair Duet
“What about my other favorite pussy?”
“Oh, you know…trying to keep up with your insatiable hunger.”
He lifted my hand, entwining our fingers. “It is, after all, our honeymoon.”
Once we pulled up into the driveway of Damien’s house, I was struck with the realization we were married. A little late, I was aware. It was seeing his massive home that made the marriage real.
Stepping out to the pavers, I stared up at the beautiful house located in a prestigious small subdivision. I remembered when he bought the house. With four bedrooms and six bathrooms, it seemed huge—too much house for one man.
The driver helped Damien with our luggage, getting it inside the three-car garage before bidding us goodbye. We’d discussed earlier how Damien would drive us to my place.
“I’m surprised you’ve kept this big house,” I said as he opened the door leading into the massive kitchen. “I don’t think of you as someone who enjoys lawn care.”
“They’re called gardeners, and I pay them.”
“It’s still a lot of house.”
His gaze met mine. “Maybe I never gave up on why I bought it in the first place.”
I looked around at the pristine white cabinets, quartz countertops, and custom light fixtures. “I always loved this kitchen. Cooking in here was like cooking on one of those TV shows.” As I ran my fingertips over the cool countertop, I thought about his answer. “What did you never give up on?”
Damien took my hand and led me through the kitchen out into the two-story living room, complete with a stunning fireplace that went all the way up to the ceiling. Without a word, he continued up the stairs with the wrought-iron banister to the landing that looked down into the living room. It wasn’t until we were in the primary bedroom suite that he finally spoke.
Lifting his hand, he said, “Stay right where you are.”
I stood with my sandals on the plush carpet, swaying the skirt of my sundress as he walked to a tall chest of drawers and opened the top drawer.
It was as he removed a small box that my heart began to beat in double time.
As he turned my way, there was a turbulent new sea of emotions in his orbs with a spark of sunshine breaking through the clouds.
“Ella,” he said, his deep baritone voice reverberating through the cavernous room. “Nothing regarding our wedding was right or what you deserved. I wish with everything in me I would have offered this to you that starry night in Aruba.”
Tears filled my eyes.
This was silly. We were already married.
Maybe my emotions were too discombobulated to concentrate on our mixed-up timeline.
“Damien,” I said, my voice cracking.
Falling to one knee, Damien opened the small box, revealing a gorgeous round diamond solitaire on a white gold or platinum band. Simple and stunning. “I never gave up on us, Ella. If youremember, I bought this house a few months before our trip to Aruba. I had it all planned out.”
“You never let on.”
“Maybe we needed time apart to realize that we belong together.”
Swallowing my emotions, I nodded. “The ring is beautiful.”
“I bought it for you. After you left, I refused to think about it. I couldn’t bring myself to take it back. I also couldn’t imagine it being on anyone else’s finger. Ella, this ring is yours. I’m yours. You’re mine. Even though we’ve said our vows, you deserve to be asked the question: will you marry me?”
“I already did.”
Standing, Damien kissed me. A sweet and gentle sign of affection. It didn’t hold the same power as the kiss earlier in the car. Then again, he wasn’t trying to distract me. The kiss was a prelude to him sliding the diamond down my fourth finger, resting on top of his grandmother’s band.
“They don’t match,” he said. “We’ll get you a new band.”
I shook my head, staring down at the rings. “They’re beautiful together. I don’t want another band. This one is special. It was your nana’s, and Marsha wanted me to have it.”