Only with You
Page 36

 Lauren Layne

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His fingers tightened on her upper arms, and he shook her so hard she dropped the box, the spilled contents lying ignored at their feet. “I’d want them with you.”
Her heart gave a jolt, and she closed her eyes. He wouldn’t be so cruel as to torture her.
“I love you, Sophie,” he whispered hoarsely.
She thought her heart would explode in ecstasy and pain. He couldn’t possibly know what he was doing.
“Gray, listen—”
“No, you listen. I think I fell for you somewhere between that damn Las Vegas elevator and you picking up my little sister from the airport. My feelings hit me over the head when we were in that Goddamn blow-up maze at the company picnic, but I didn’t know what to do, what to say…”
Sophie’s mind reeled. “But…my job…and you don’t want to get married…”
“Forget all that,” he said desperately. “You know I’m new at this. Bad at it. And I’ll continue to mess everything up. But you have to give me a chance.”
Don’t weaken, Sophie. Turn away.
She didn’t move.
“You have to,” he said, his voice breaking. “You can leave Brayburn. Or stay. Come to Maui, or not. I don’t care. But you can’t leave me. Please don’t leave me.”
“No,” she said, her voice breaking. “I won’t. I can’t.”
His arms closed around her tightly, and she realized how much these past weeks had cost him. And her.
“What you said about Jessica—”
Sophie closed her eyes in pain and put a hand over his mouth. “Don’t. I never should have said it.”
“Then you think I’m someone worth liking?”
“Not exactly…” she said coyly.
“Loving?” he asked, voice hopeful.
“Perhaps.”
“Tell me.”
“Tell you what?” she teased.
“Sophie.” He rested his forehead on hers.
“I love you,” she said with a wobbly smile. She framed his face with her hands. “I love that you barely know how to smile, and that you care about your siblings more than you possibly know how to express. I love that you totally cheat at Monopoly, and that you hit on your secretaries like a common pervert.”
The relief in his eyes had her crying all over again.
“Just one question, Ms. Dalton,” he said, resting his forehead against hers.
“Yes, Mr. Wyatt?”
“How much is this going to cost me? I’ve come to learn that you’re a very high-end call girl.”
Sophie pinched him. “Doesn’t matter. I’m worth it.”
She felt him smile against her temple. “Yes, you are.”
EPILOGUE
I called the restaurant to let them know we’ll be a little late,” Sophie said, hanging up the hotel phone.
Gray wiggled his eyebrows. “We could be a little later. Make time for some afternoon delight?”
“You already got a little afternoon delight! Twice. And don’t call it that.”
He shrugged as he added a gray tie to his gray suit.
Sophie smiled and shook her head at the monochromatic ensemble. There were some things that couldn’t be changed, even in the course of a seven-month relationship. Gray’s wardrobe was proving to be one of them.
But the important things had changed.
Gray was still CEO of Brayburn Luxuries. His new assistant was a tiny, stern woman named Ida who refused to address him as anything other than Mr. Wyatt, no matter how many times he asked her to use his first name. Ida had also removed all of Sophie’s bright decorating choices and replaced them with soothing taupe and ivory accents. Gray’s office was now nothing but a bunch of boring neutrals. Exactly as he liked it.
Sophie was on her way to getting her teaching degree. She hadn’t decided on a subject or a grade level yet, but as soon as Gray had suggested she’d make a great teacher, she’d known immediately that it was the right fit. It would be a long road getting there, but Sophie had finally found a career path that excited her and that she was proud of.
She still had a couple years of school ahead, but she already ached for the first day of teaching with a bunch of expectant faces looking up to her. Of course, they’d probably have to call her Ms. Dalton. Good thing she was used to that by now.
As for her parents…they were trying. They’d even thrown her a congratulatory party when she’d been accepted to Seattle University’s teaching program. Of course, her father hadn’t been able to resist the briefest of lectures on how small teachers’ salaries were, and her mother had given Sophie’s short skirt a panicked look. But overall they were learning to let her be her.
Brynn too had been supportive of the changes in Sophie’s life, although if Sophie’s life was finally getting on track, her older sister’s seemed to be teetering on the edge of…well Sophie wasn’t sure what exactly. It wasn’t like Brynn had joined a commune or bought a Harley or pierced her belly button, but in the past few months there had been something vaguely off about Brynn. A restless impatience that Sophie had never seen before. She’d tried talking to her sister about it, but Brynn had feigned ignorance. Sophie itched to dig deeper, but she knew firsthand how it felt to have someone meddle in your life, so she was trying to let her sister have her space.
“What’s with the frown?” Gray asked, tugging at a blonde curl.
Sophie shook off her concern. “Nothing. Just musing.”
“There will be no musing in Vegas,” Gray said. “Here, I’ve got a surprise for you.”
She raised an eyebrow as Gray began digging through his suitcase. She never thought she’d hear the word “surprise” come out of Grayson Wyatt’s mouth.
He turned around with a boyish grin, and Sophie let out a horrified laugh as she saw what he held in his hands.
“My hooker boots!”
“It took me forever to find them,” he said, smiling fondly at the cheap, fake leather. “What were you thinking, hiding gems like these under your bed?”
“Well, gosh, you’re right. They do bring back such fond memories, I should have put them on the mantel.”
“Is that sarcasm I sense?”
“From me?” Sophie asked, wrapping her arms around his waist and pressing her nose into his neck.
He nibbled her ear for a split second before gently pushing her aside. “None of that, you harlot. Here, put these on.”
Sophie stared at him. “I am not wearing those to dinner.”
“Why, you worried about some surly man hitting on you in the elevator?” he asked, giving her bare legs an appreciative glance.
“I’m pretty sure I’ll be stuck with a surly man, regardless of shoe choice,” Sophie said, reluctantly accepting the boots. “You really want me to wear these? When you said you wanted to go to Vegas to celebrate a year since we first met, I didn’t realize you wanted to actually celebrate the hooker part of it.”
“I thought I was being sweet,” he said with mock affront. “Don’t women like reliving a couple’s first meeting?”
“Not when the first meeting involves a near-death experience and ultimate humiliation. And I told you I wanted to stay in one of the tacky hotels. You picked the same boring one as before,” she grumbled as she reluctantly pulled off her black pumps and slipped into the boots. “God, I’d forgotten how uncomfortable these are.”
“Oh, quit whining,” he said, pulling her out the hotel room door and toward the elevator lobby.
Gray punched the elevator button and leaned in for a kiss, pulling back when they finally heard the elevator arrival chime.
“Hey, it’s the same elevator as before!” Sophie said in happy realization. “What are the odds?”
“One in eight,” he replied, guiding her into the elevator. “Or twelve-point-five percent. There are eight possible elevators, so the chances of us getting this one—”
“Oh jeez,” she said, cutting him off. “Just when I think you’re finally beginning to understand romance…”
Suddenly the lights went out, and the elevator jolted to a sudden stop. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” Sophie said incredulously. “What are the odds of this? You’d think they’d have fixed—Gray, what the hell are you doing down there?”
Sophie squinted through the dark to find him.
“Hold on, I have a light,” he grumbled.
“You carry a flashlight now?” she asked, still struggling to see his figure. “Although I guess it’s not a bad idea at this hotel—”
She broke off again as a tiny stream of light flicked on. It served as a spotlight for one very large, very sparkly diamond ring.
Dimly she could see Gray’s shadow outlined behind it.
He was on his knee.
“Oh my God,” she whispered, a shaky hand covering her mouth.
“Marry me,” Gray commanded gruffly.
“Is that a question?” she asked with a choked laugh.
“More like a plea,” he said. “Please hurry up and decide. I can’t imagine all the germs on this elevator floor.”
“You planned this,” Sophie realized in wonder. “You were actually crazy enough to ask them to stall this elevator?”
“You said you wanted romance.”
“I can’t believe I’m wearing a miniskirt!” She plucked the ring out of the box and inspected the flawless solitaire diamond.
“Sophie, if you don’t answer my question, so help me—”
“Yes!” she burst out. “Of course, yes.”
“Thank God,” he said with relief. “Do you have any idea how many palms I had to grease to organize this whole debacle—”
Sophie threw herself at him, both of them falling awkwardly to the ground. “You did this for me,” she said, gazing down at his face in the dark.
“I’d do anything for you,” he said simply.
“I love you,” she whispered.
“I know.”
Sophie bit him.
“Fine. I love you too. If someone would have told me a year ago I’d be in love with a blonde prostitute—”
She broke off his words with a messy kiss. “How long did you arrange for us to be stuck in a black box together?”
“I, um, didn’t exactly specify. I wasn’t sure how long it would take to talk you into it.”
“So we might have some time?” she asked playfully.
“Probably. I implied that you were a little high-strung, so they’ll probably err on the side of caution and leave us in here a while.”
“Then I guess it’s convenient that I’m wearing a tiny little outfit.”
His hand slid up the back of her thigh. “I guess it is.”
“Wanna make babies?”
“Will they be quiet and well behaved, and read nonfiction?”
“No chance in hell.”
“Then yes. Definitely,” he said as he began untying her halter top.
* * *
Eleven minutes later, the elevator began moving again, and they straightened their clothes as best as they could.
“Well, I guess I finally know your rate,” Gray said as he helped her retie her top. “I should have left a diamond ring on the dresser a year ago, and we could have skipped all the past few months and gotten straight to the good stuff.”
“But then we’d never have experienced the awkward family dinner, or The Castle, or the Blackwells…”
“Speaking of the Blackwells, what do you say to a honeymoon in Maui?” he asked.
“Will Alistair be there?”
“I can probably arrange it. Assuming he doesn’t have a mosquito convention.”
“Then absolutely. I’m in. Ugh, I don’t suppose you have a handkerchief,” she said, struggling to right her appearance.
He pulled one from his pocket, predictable as ever. “I thought you were supposed to save the one I gave you last time as a memento,” he said as she carefully removed her smeared lipstick.
“I believe what I said was that I wasn’t keeping it.”
“I thought you women were supposed to be attuned to romantic inklings.”
She snorted. “Maybe. Doesn’t mean I didn’t set your handkerchief on fire.”
Gray grabbed her left hand and ran a thumb over the new diamond. “You’re sure about this, Sophie? You think I can be a good husband?”
“I’m sure about you,” she said confidently, smiling into his worried face. “I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life annoying the crap out of you.”
Gray’s lips closed over hers, and it took them several moments to realize that the elevator doors had opened, and that a crowd of people were staring at them. The same hotel manager from before came rushing over.
“Mr. Wyatt, I hope everything is—well, I mean—will your companion be joining you for dinner?” Mr. Clinksy finished awkwardly, clearly unsure how to handle the unusual situation.
Gray smiled down at his new fiancée. “Indeed she will.” Sophie and Gray walked away from the elevator lobby for the second time in the same year.
But this time, they were going in the same direction.