“SO YOU HAVE A THING FOR Porsches, huh?”
Rhyson grins, keeping his eyes trained on the road without replying. I knew he had a few other cars in that warehouse of a garage, but he never drives anything but the Cayenne. I had no idea what a Panamera even was until he opened the door for me to slide into the silver sedan’s passenger seat. If power screwed luxury up against a wall and made an auto baby, this car would be it. My fingers caress the supple scarlet leather. It must be stitched with sex threads because I have to rub my legs together like cricket wings to tamp down the arousal of the car purring through the seat beneath me.
Everything about tonight feels . . . rich and decadent. For one, we’re alone. Gep nor anyone from the security team accompanies us. Our intimacy, our aloneness is worth more than diamonds to me. The costly dress caressing my hips and legs feels rich. The raw silk licking over my braless nipples. The outrageous satin thong Rhyson bought for me a few weeks ago is the only thing tiny enough to wear under this tight dress. Even the early summer air, losing its cloying thickness the longer we drive, feels as light and clear as champagne.
“So where are we going?” I probe.
We’ve been driving for twenty minutes and he’s barely said a word. I’m unfamiliar with this Rhyson, distracted and tightly wound. His energy, coiled into a figure-eight knot, permeates the car’s interior, but none of it is focused on me. He’s completely in his head. I’ve gotten spoiled by his undivided attention. Maybe his “appointments” didn’t go well today.
“Rhys? Did you hear me?”
“Sorry.” He turns his head long enough to catch my eyes. “What’d you say?”
“Where are we going?” I slow my speech as if he needs to read my lips.
“I told you it’s a surprise.” A smile quirks his mouth. “You’ll see soon enough.”
“How’d your appointments go today?” I ask, not wanting to sink back into the silence where his mind is elsewhere.
“Fine.” His voice remains neutral, but a smile I can only describe as secretive curves on his lips. “We’re here.”
“Here” is Tide, a Pacific-side restaurant nestled against the curving California coastline. Extremely popular, and judging by the queue of cars snaking from the entrance, packed. There’s a flurry of activity as we approach, with patrons leaving their cars and valets hopping in to drive off and make room for more. My eyes swing to Rhyson’s and find him already watching me.
“What do you think?” For the first time since we left the house, I have his full attention. His eyes are trained on my face, watching closely for my reaction.
“It’s gorgeous.” I look back to the restaurant’s glass paneled walls offering shadowy glimpses of the ocean view. “Crowded. You know everyone comes here, right?”
“Right.” With a satisfied nod, he gets out so the valet can take the car.
An attendant opens my door and offers me a hand.
“I’ve got her,” Rhyson says, inserting himself between me and the eager valet.
I step out, and Rhyson’s eyes drop to the indecent length of leg the panels of my dress fall back to display. “I love this dress, Pep, but it’s a hazard. I’m hoping to get through the night without punching some ogling idiot in the face.”
I tip up a few inches to kiss him, but remember where we are. Rhyson and I aren’t that couple who do pubic displays of affection. We save all our passion for behind closed doors. A few paps have caught us holding hands and snapped a picture here and there, but not much more than that. By design. I’m pulling back when Rhyson grips my hips, bringing me back to my tiptoes. His mouth slants over mine in pure possession, one hand palming the curve of my ass while the other slides over the naked skin of my back. He juts into my mouth, searching for my tongue, and we groan at the taste of each other. My heart slams against his through our chests, and my hand drifts up his neck and into his hair. My fingers curl compulsively into the heavy, thick waves. I want him so badly. I need him more than air. I love him beyond all my girlish imaginations. I forget for just a few moments that we are surrounded by people and inevitably cameras. A flash over his shoulder punctures my haze and reminds me that we aren’t alone.
“Rhys,” I whisper against his lips, putting a few inches between us. “Someone just took our picture.”
He leans down to give me another kiss, unchecked and hungry.
“Good.”
Well, okay. I missed the PDA memo, but if he’s fine with it then so am I.
He enfolds my hand in his and leads me toward the door framed by majestic trees wrapped in lights. As he gives his name, unnecessarily of course, to the elegantly dressed Amazon at the podium, I can’t help but notice how her eyes covet him from head to toe. Admittedly, he is beautiful, but it’s more than that. Rhyson could wear a bag over his head and still draw every eye in the room. His energy, the latent charisma that he turns on and off at will, compels you to watch because you aren’t sure when you’ll meet someone like him again. I want to tell the Amazon to get a room before she fucks someone with her eyes that way. My lips tighten and my eyes narrow at the edges. I don’t want to be that jealous girl, insecure because her famous boyfriend has more opportunity to cheat than most men would ever dream of. I glance at Rhyson to see if he even notices. His eyes are clinging to me, and he smiles knowingly. He bends down to caress my ear with his lips.
“Only you, Pep.”
A breath stutters past my lips. I can’t look away from him and can’t stop smiling. He knows me so well. He took the time to know me. We take the time to know one another, and I wouldn’t trade our friendship, the cornerstone of this love affair, for any gift he could ever give me.
“This way, Mr. Gray.” The Amazon leads us with a sway of her generous hips through the crowded main dining room and down a long corridor. The dimly lit hall seems to crack open with light all of a sudden when we reach the outdoor deck. I’m so captivated by the sky tipping into sunset over the vast ocean like a painter’s palette that I don’t even notice all the people crowding the deck until they scream.
“Surprise!”
I’ve always wondered why people’s hands fly to their mouths. Why their fingers touch their chests when they’re blown away. Now I know. There’s so much delight, so much completely unexpected happiness that swells up inside of you, you just want to contain it. You don’t want to leak any of it, so you cover your mouth to hold it in. You press it back into your chest when it feels like it might explode from you.
A startled little laugh whooshes out of me. Everyone is here, laughing as they realize they really did “get me,” and I had no clue. San, who was supposed to be on assignment in Turks and Caicos, stands near the front of the crowd, ear-to-ear grin plastered all over his face. Bristol, Grip, Grady, Em, Ella, Luke, Gep, and the security team cluster together. Even Amber, the receptionist from Wood, and all of the studio engineers are here. No way. Even my friend Misty from The Note. A few faces are less familiar, and I recognize them as friends and associates of Rhyson’s. So many friends. So many faces. And then I stumble upon one precious face, and the tears, which have been cooperating by just standing in my eyes, leak over my cheeks.
“Aunt Ruthie?” I gasp and rush toward the woman who has anchored me through the roughest storms of my life. She does what she always does—she catches me. Her arms encircle and nearly squeeze the life out of me. I pull back to look at her face and touch the hair that keeps on greying and she keeps on refusing to dye.
“As I live and breathe.” I laugh through my tears. “You’re in LA. What are you doing here?”
“Well, it is your birthday, and I heard there was gonna be a party.” Her blue eyes warm between the fine lines fanning out over the lightly freckled skin. “B’sides, a handsome young man flies to the sticks to get you in a private plane. How can an old bird like me resist?”
“Rhyson came to get you?” Confusion creases a frown on my face. “When? When did he come?”
“Last night. I have to get back to Glory Bee tomorrow, but he’ll get me home.” Aunt Ruthie smiles over my shoulder. “Thanks again for the lift.”
I glance up and behind me to see Rhyson standing right there, grinning back at Aunt Ruthie. His hands settle, warm and possessive, at my waist and draw me back into his chest.
“Last night?” I twist around to search his face. “But I thought . . . but you . . . huh?”
“The extra day was for the flight to Glory Falls. Had to pick up some precious cargo.” He squeezes my sides lightly. “Surprised?”
I swallow back emotion scorching the inside of my throat. I wondered why he took an extra day in New York. I pouted over him spending today of all days on his “appointments” instead of with me. I resented not having his full attention all the way here, and apparently . . . it was all for me. All to make this birthday this special.
“I can’t believe you did all this.” I hook my arms behind his neck, straining up and into him. “Thank you.”
He tightens his hands at my waist, easily lifting until my feet aren’t quite on the ground anymore.
“I wish every day was your birthday,” he whispers over my lips. “It’d give me an excuse to show you what you mean to me all the time.”
A man this closed off from most people, a man with so little reason to trust, opens himself to me every day and trusts me with everything he owns. Trusts me with his home and his heart. And yes, even though he may not be hearing wedding bells quite yet, he trusts me with his future. It overwhelms me, the privilege of his love. And even with Aunt Ruthie right behind me and dozens of eyes on us, I don’t even care. I wriggle closer to him, wind my fingers in the cool strands of his hair and capture his lips between mine. And it’s not a cute kiss. It’s ravishment, a battle waged with lips and teeth and tongue. As glad as I am to have all our friends here, I couldn’t care less if everyone else just walked right off into the glorious sunset and left me and this man to celebrate alone in each other’s arms.
He laughs against my lips, slowly dripping my body down the front of his until my stilettos touch the floor again.
“Damn, Pep.” His voice is husky and a small smile rests on lips faintly red with my lipstick. Lust lingers in his eyes. “Save some for later.”
I laugh a little self-consciously and wipe the lipstick from his mouth. I start to pull away, but Rhyson bends to whisper in my ear, holding me still in front of him.
“You might, uh, wanna just stand here for a second unless you want this boner poking Aunt Ruthie in the eye.”
I drop my head to his chest and giggle, but stand there obediently until he releases me to greet the people waiting to wish me a happy birthday.
It’s a beautiful night in every way. Candles and champagne flutes grace a long wooden table draped with linen. Steak and seafood and fresh vegetables and luscious fruit lay heavy on the plates at each seat. Lights wrap around the trees sprouting right up through the wooden deck floor, embracing the trunks and sprinkling through the leaves that canopy our celebration. I’m stuffed and happy, eating the delicious food, chatting and laughing with people as they come by where I sit with Rhyson, our hands linked under the table.
“Did you both know about this?” I split a look of mock censure between Bristol and Ella.
“Yes,” they answer in unison, laughing.
“I thought I would bust helping you get ready for tonight,” Ella admits. “When you called and asked me to come over, I just knew I wouldn’t be able to keep the secret all afternoon.”
“I never suspected.” I glance at Bristol. “And you never let on either.”
“We were sworn to secrecy under threat of death.” Bristol nods to Rhyson beside me. “He wouldn’t let me do anything. He wanted to handle everything himself. Good job, brother.”
Rhyson glances at me with a small smile and then away.
“And you’re the worst at keeping secrets, San.” I punch him in the shoulder, seated beside me. “I can’t believe you never let on. Were you ever even in Turks?”
“Yeah.” San takes a sip of his white wine. “Gotta be back tomorrow. Rhyson flew me in just for the night.”
“For the night?” I turn a surprised glance to Rhyson. “Just for my birthday? Wow.”
“Did you save room for cake?” Rhyson doesn’t acknowledge his extravagance.
A server carrying a multi-tiered pink and white cake lit with sparkler candles walks out onto the deck. Everyone starts singing “Happy Birthday” right on cue. The whole scene—the starry sky, the illuminated trees, the crescendo of crashing waves, the crowd of eager faces—grows blurry through new tears. It’s just so much and so perfect.
“Blow out the candles!”
Though my chest feels tight, I draw in what I hope is enough breath to extinguish all these candles. My lips are puckered and poised, when Rhyson presses a staying hand to my shoulder.
“Don’t forget to make a wish.” He kisses my forehead softly and then nods to the cake.
I must be a selfish, hard-to-please girl. With all of this tonight, with every dream I ever had for my career becoming a reality, with all of these people who care about me, I shouldn’t want another thing. But there is a wish that hides in my heart. I conceal it. I tell it to wait. Most days, I pretend it isn’t there. But today, when I’m given permission to hope, to pray, to dream, to wish—I do. I draw the force of that buried wish up from my belly, through my chest and blow as hard as I can until every candle goes dark.
Just in case wishes come true.
I’m polishing off my mammoth slice of white chocolate cake when Rhyson touches my wrist lightly to get my attention.
“I think cake is your weakness. I seem to remember you devouring it once before.”
Something wicked kindles in his eyes. It takes a moment before I remember the last time he saw me stuffing my face with cake. At Grady and Em’s wedding. It was my first time seeing him since our fight over the Total Package fiasco. I can almost smell the hay in that loft where he laid me down and eased my dress up. Can almost feel his hands caressing behind my knees and his fingers incinerating the sensitive skin inside my thighs. The memory of his tongue licking hungrily into my pussy and the way his moans vibrated against my clit enflames my cheeks.
“You tasted better than the cake,” he whispers, brushing his thumb secretly, subtly over my nipple. “If I think about it long enough, I still taste you in my mouth.”
“Rhyson!” I hiss, glancing around at everyone around us who seems occupied with their cake and conversations.
“I can’t wait to get you home and out of this dress so I can taste you again.” His words waft over my flushed skin like steam. “It’s all I’ve thought about since you walked down those stairs.”
I nod numbly, not even trying to deny that I want it too. I need it too. His words, the hot looks, the covert touches have all aroused a fire in me hot enough to ignite the tiny thong I’m wearing.
“Wanna dance?” He extends his hand casually like he wasn’t just seducing me with his suggestions. Like he asks me this every day.
“With who?” I shove aside my lust with a little laugh at my own joke. “You don’t dance, remember? And besides, there’s no . . .”
I trail off as music starts lightly piping in through the hidden speakers. Rhyson stands up and extends his hand to me, waiting. I can’t tell if he’s just resigned or eager or what, but something weird is going on with his face. He hates dancing. We never dance together, and he obviously looks forward to the prospect about as much as a colonoscopy. So why would he even ask?
“We don’t have to, Rhys. Really.”
“No, I want to.” He takes the choice away and tugs me to the center of the patio. “Don’t get used to this. It’s a one-time offer.”
“Well, I’ll take it.” I lay my head on his chest, stiffening a little when I realize we’re the only ones on the floor. “Rhys, no one else is dancing.”
“That’s because it’s our night.” His lips move against my hair.
I’m processing that when the music playing penetrates my senses.
“Is that ‘Lost’?” I grin up at him and link my fingers behind his neck. “They’re playing our song.”
“One of them, yeah.” He grins a little, but that look is back, the weird one, before he masks it with the self-assured expression I’ve grown used to. “When you first told me this was your favorite song from my album, it solidified what I already knew.”
I can vividly recall our conversation in his car the first time we hung out. We talked about “Lost,” the song that was like a light in a dark forest when I had to stay behind in Glory Falls and take care of Mama.
“And what did you already know?” I tease him with a smile, reaching up to curl my fingers in his hair.
“That you were special.” His eyes don’t tease me back. There’s a warm sobriety there that melts the smile from my face. “I think on some level, I knew even then we were supposed to be together. Hell, I think I knew that the first time I saw you and we hadn’t even spoken one word.”
“Love at first sight, huh?” I try to make my tone light again, but this moment gets weightier and weightier the longer he stares back at me.
“Not love. Not at first.” He shakes his head and links our hands on his chest. “But a recognition of sorts. I think my soul knew you before I did. Knew you were the one I should spend the rest of my life with. Getting to know you, becoming your friend, only convinced me of what I think my heart and my soul already knew.”
“And what’s that?” I ask, my voice raspy with the emotion this conversation evokes.
“That you’re mine and I’m yours.” His smile is so tender and warm that it burns away the periphery until I don’t see anyone else; don’t even care anymore that we are the only ones in the center of the patio dancing.
“This morning you so thoughtfully relieved me of any pressure to make things . . . shall we say ‘official’ between us.” His hand slides down and tightens at my hip, slowing the swaying of our bodies until we’re standing still. “And I told you I felt no pressure to make you my wife because to me you already are.”
“I know. It’s fine, Rhyson. Like I said, there’s a lot going on. You don’t have to explain. I’m fine the way we are, baby.”
“But I’m not.” He presses his forehead to mine, splaying his palms across my back to inch me closer until there’s nothing between us but a breath of balmy summer air. “I want the whole world to know we’re together forever. To know when they see me, they see you. To know that what’s mine belongs to you. That I’m yours. To know that our lives are linked till death do us part. And even beyond that.”
I don’t know what he’s saying. Or why he’s saying it now. Here. I spare a quick glance around the deck, a little embarrassed to see that most people have stopped talking and are watching us closely.
“I want them to know tonight.” He steps back just a little and then drops in front of me. “I want you to know tonight.”
My legs liquefy and my head swims seeing him down on one knee. This moment, the one I wished for when I blew out my candles but didn’t think would come this soon or this way, sucks all the air from my chest like a vacuum. I must sway a little because he steadies me at my waist with one strong hand. I look down at his face, the one I wasn’t even sure was handsome at first, but now is so beautiful to me I can’t imagine waking up with anyone else for the rest of my days. He stares back at me with such love that the next words out of his mouth are almost unnecessary because his eyes are already asking me the question and my heart has already answered.
“Kai, would you do me the honor of becoming something I wasn’t even sure I would ever want?” A slow, certain smile curves his full lips. “My wife. Will you marry me?”
And as much as my heart utters yes. As much as my body screams its agreement. As much as my soul says amen, I can’t get the word out. It’s stuck in my throat. Trapped by emotion and the enormity of all my wishes convening in this one man and coming impossibly true.
“I know this isn’t how you probably thought it would happen,” he rushes to say. “I mean with all these people watching, but the whole world got to witness the lowest point in our relationship. On that video they got to see that fight, the day I almost ruined everything. I wanted the whole world to see this too. To see that I choose you. There’s no one else for me. Only you, Pep.”
My eyes wander around the circle of people watching. San, who stood with me by my mother’s grave and convinced me to come to LA, wears a satisfied smile. Ella is wiping tears from her cheeks. Bristol looks suspiciously bright-eyed. Grip wears the biggest “that’s my boy” grin. Grady looks . . . proud. The proudest I’ve ever seen him. Aunt Ruthie’s small smile widens when I meet her eyes.
“How long you gonna keep that man on his knees, Kai Anne?” Aunt Ruthie yells with hands cupped around her lips, soliciting laughter from everyone standing around waiting for my response.
A shaky laugh slips past my lips, and I swipe at the tears trickling over my own cheeks. When I look back to Rhyson he doesn’t look worried about the wait. His eyes hold the complete confidence of a man who is about to be told yes, today and for the rest of his life. Of a man whose soul is so completely tangled around mine, that I’m sure his heart already hears my response. He’s right. In so many ways, this is just a formality acknowledging something to the world that we’ve known for a long time. I’m his and he’s mine. We don’t need a ceremony to confirm that, but when I notice for the first time that he’s holding a ring, I physically feel my jaw coming unhinged. It’s so gorgeous and so perfect. The square-cut sapphire ring, orbited by diamonds of such purity, steals my breath. I don’t know carats or cuts. I have no idea how much it costs, but I do know, as I extend my hand and he slides the glorious thing home on my finger, that I will wear it until I die.
“You still haven’t said yes.” Rhyson kisses the ring on my finger, his eyes amused, but drenched with emotion.
I can’t stand it another second. Everything that was shocked into silence, every trapped breath, every frozen tear, breaks free all at once. And I’m laughing. I’m hyperventilating. I’m crying. I’m sliding down to my knees on the wooden floor with him, tight dress and high heels and all, hooking my arms behind his neck and laying my temple against his chin.
“Yes, Rhyson.”
I look up at him and don’t even try to wipe the tears away anymore because this is the most singularly spectacular moment of my life. No number one album, no Grammy, no tour, nothing will ever come close to the day he invited me to spend the rest of my life with him. I tuck my head into the scent, the warmth of his neck.
“God, yes. Of course yes.”