Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 141676 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 708(@200wpm)___ 567(@250wpm)___ 472(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 141676 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 708(@200wpm)___ 567(@250wpm)___ 472(@300wpm)
“Ready to try it? Or are you too scared?”
She laughs and turns back to me with sparkling eyes. “You know it. What flavor did you pick?”
“Classic chocolate.” I carefully cut her a slice. “I know it’s your favorite.”
“Yeah, but what about you?”
“It’s the most tolerable kind. I’ve gotten better at this,” I tell her, cutting myself a piece that’s half the size of hers.
I have gotten better at appreciating sweets. I’m not sure I’ll ever learn to fully enjoy throwing myself into a three-hour sugar coma, though I can definitely eat it now without feeling like I’m shaving ten years off my life.
“You really have.” She accepts a cake fork from the box and looks at her slice before prodding at the dessert. “Nice texture. You didn’t make it too dry.”
“Damn, Sweet Stuff, I didn’t bring you here to grade it.”
“Why did you bring me here for a cake picnic, then?” She shoots me a mock glare.
“Just eat. Preferably before I have an aneurism.”
“Okay, bossypants.” She takes a bite and chews slowly. I try not to fixate on her lips, or guessing how many bites it’ll take before she finds her surprise.
In fact, I try not to think about anything at all except for the fact that it’s a beautiful autumn day and I’m here with Junie at the edge of forever.
“It’s good,” she says sincerely, surprise ringing in her voice.
“You could pretend to be less shocked.”
“No, I just—for someone who thinks dessert is pure evil, you’re pretty good at this. What did Lucifer offer you?”
I snort. “Only you, woman. Somehow, that’ll always be enough.”
She smiles at that. A long, slow smile that touches her soul with the same wistful energy as the sunlight dancing on the lake. I almost want to interrupt what I’ve started and kiss her until we forget how to breathe.
But she’s so close now.
Then her fork hits something hard near the end of the cake and she glances up at me with a frown. “Oh no. Don’t tell me you left a frosting cap in the cake?”
I say nothing.
“Dex? It’s too big to be a—”
“Oops. Silly me.” I cut her off, shaking my head, trying not to lay my surprise on too thick. “Better find out what it is.”
She purses her lips.
“Actually, I hate to say it, but it reminds me a little of Haute’s metal discs, except they weren’t this big,” she says bitterly as she hacks away at the back to find a metal box.
I figured she might think that.
“That’s what gave me the idea,” I tell her. Shock flashes in her eyes. “I thought I’d take something ugly and turn it into a treasure. Keep going.”
“It’s…” Words fail her and her mouth moves soundlessly. “Is this what I think it is?”
“Only one way to find out, sweetheart.”
It takes her a second—the steel box is slick with cake residue, but eventually she opens it to find the ring I bought her the first time sitting there, twinkling in the light.
“We can change it if you prefer something new,” I rush out. “If you want a fresh start, I get it, but—”
“You kept it,” she whispers. “You kept the ring?”
I nod, my heart blowing up a size.
“Even when I left it on the kitchen counter and walked out of your life. All these months, I was afraid to ask what happened…”
“You have no clue how many hours I sat staring at that ring, remembering what it looked like on your finger, wishing it could be there again.” I swallow hard. Heavy confessions aren’t my talent. “I know it came to you with a big fat lie. It’s not that romantic in the conventional sense, no, however—”
“It’s perfect.” She looks up sharply, her eyes brimming with tears. “I’ve always loved it. Right from the beginning, when you chose it off total luck, I guess. And it’s not just part of a sham anymore, Dex. It’s a reminder of how we met.”
I move across the grass so I’m standing in front of her now.
Without another word, I kneel.
I pry the box from her hands and open it.
“I know I’ve done this before, too,” I say, watching the smile on her lips. “And I know it wasn’t what you wanted back then. Now, we can start a new tradition—”
“You prepared a big speech. Aww.” She presses a hand to her face. “Oh, sorry. Continue.”
“Apparently, interrupting my proposals is a tradition, too.”
“I said sorry. Go on,” she hisses.
“It’s real now, Junie. Realer than the colors on these trees. Realer than my own pulse. That’s why I’m here, down on one knee, getting my pants soaked and asking for forever.” I shift my leg—that part wasn’t just me being funny, the grass really is wet. “Needless to say, I’ll always be here for you, woman, even when you interrupt me. I’ve loved you almost as long as I’ve known you, and I knew settling for a fake ring and playing house wouldn’t do. I figured out fast I needed to spend my life with you.”