looks around at the room, his eyes
straying to the picture above the bed, the one of me. “Now, I can’t think of anywhere else I’d
rather be.”
I gnaw on my lip as I think of what this could mean and of
how I might screw it up. But then I
feel a finger tug at my lip, freeing it from the prison of my teeth. “What?” I ask when I see Sig staring
down at me.
“Stop worrying.”
“I’m not worrying.”
“You are worrying.”
I sigh. There’s
just no hiding things from a cop. There’s just not. “It’s so beautiful here, but what
about…what about…”
I hate to even ask about my brother. Somehow it feels like
foisting unwanted responsibility on Sig. I mean , it’s
different when it’s me taking care of
Travis. In my house
with my money. But this would
be us taking care
of him .
“It has a finished basement. All for Travis. A gaming-obsessed teenager’s wet dream.” At his words, a lump forms in my
throat. I didn’t even have to ask.
He’d already thought of my brother. “And it’s closer to your mom, too.”
My mom. My brother. My dream house. Sig has thought of
everything.
I blink back tears. “It’s perfect, Sig. Just
perfect.”
“Well, almost.”
Slowly, Sig sinks to one knee in front of me. He reaches inside his pocket and removes
a tiny velvet box that makes my heart flutter in my throat.
“For weeks after Mom died, I’d wake up in the middle of the
night feeling like I couldn’t breathe. I’d sit up in bed and gasp until my lungs felt like they were working
again. And then I’d cry myself back
to sleep. I never went to Dad. I
knew he was more lost than I was. I
promised myself then that I wouldn’t fall in love, that I wouldn’t give anybody
that kind of power over me. The
night that I held you in my arms, blood all over both of us, I felt the same
way. Like I couldn’t breathe. I realized
then that it’s you who keeps me breathing. Since the day I met you, you’ve had the power to hurt me, to devastate
me, to destroy my world if you leave it, but you’ve also kept me breathing.”
“Sig, I–”
“Tia Lawrence,” he interrupts, “will you marry me? Will you stay with me, in this house, in
this life, until the day I die? Will you keep me breathing until there’s no breath left in me? Because I can’t think of a life worth
living if it doesn’t have you in it.”
“Sig, you–”
“I love you. More than a thousand
dictionaries could define , I love you . Please say yes.”
I laugh. “Are
you gonna give me a chance to answer you?”
His grin is lopsided and adorable and everything that I love
about him, all summed up in a smile. “I guess.”
I drop to my knees in front of him, brushing aside the box
so that I can press my chest to his. We are eye to eye , nose to nose, heart to
heart. “Yes. That is my answer to everything you
could ever ask me. Yes. Yes, I will
marry you. Yes, I will keep you
breathing. Yes, I will live here with you. You are my dream. My only dream. Your love, your kiss, your touch–you are everything I will ever need and more than I could’ve hoped
for. I will follow you wherever you
go. Until both of us stop breathing.”
He watches me quietly, intently. “I have one more question.” His voice is low and hoarse. Raw.
“What’s that?”
“Slow or rough?”
I see the wicked glimmer light the warm brown of his eyes,
turning them golden in the flicker of the candles. “Slow,” I answer, pressing my mouth to
his. “And then rough.”
His tongue slips out to trace my bottom lip as he unbuttons
my blouse. “One more question,” he
says, pushing the material from my shoulders and setting to work on the clasp
of my skirt.
“Anything,” I say, arching my neck when his lips start to
skim along my jaw. Sig nudges my
skirt and panties down to the bend of my legs, leaving me in only my
straying to the picture above the bed, the one of me. “Now, I can’t think of anywhere else I’d
rather be.”
I gnaw on my lip as I think of what this could mean and of
how I might screw it up. But then I
feel a finger tug at my lip, freeing it from the prison of my teeth. “What?” I ask when I see Sig staring
down at me.
“Stop worrying.”
“I’m not worrying.”
“You are worrying.”
I sigh. There’s
just no hiding things from a cop. There’s just not. “It’s so beautiful here, but what
about…what about…”
I hate to even ask about my brother. Somehow it feels like
foisting unwanted responsibility on Sig. I mean , it’s
different when it’s me taking care of
Travis. In my house
with my money. But this would
be us taking care
of him .
“It has a finished basement. All for Travis. A gaming-obsessed teenager’s wet dream.” At his words, a lump forms in my
throat. I didn’t even have to ask.
He’d already thought of my brother. “And it’s closer to your mom, too.”
My mom. My brother. My dream house. Sig has thought of
everything.
I blink back tears. “It’s perfect, Sig. Just
perfect.”
“Well, almost.”
Slowly, Sig sinks to one knee in front of me. He reaches inside his pocket and removes
a tiny velvet box that makes my heart flutter in my throat.
“For weeks after Mom died, I’d wake up in the middle of the
night feeling like I couldn’t breathe. I’d sit up in bed and gasp until my lungs felt like they were working
again. And then I’d cry myself back
to sleep. I never went to Dad. I
knew he was more lost than I was. I
promised myself then that I wouldn’t fall in love, that I wouldn’t give anybody
that kind of power over me. The
night that I held you in my arms, blood all over both of us, I felt the same
way. Like I couldn’t breathe. I realized
then that it’s you who keeps me breathing. Since the day I met you, you’ve had the power to hurt me, to devastate
me, to destroy my world if you leave it, but you’ve also kept me breathing.”
“Sig, I–”
“Tia Lawrence,” he interrupts, “will you marry me? Will you stay with me, in this house, in
this life, until the day I die? Will you keep me breathing until there’s no breath left in me? Because I can’t think of a life worth
living if it doesn’t have you in it.”
“Sig, you–”
“I love you. More than a thousand
dictionaries could define , I love you . Please say yes.”
I laugh. “Are
you gonna give me a chance to answer you?”
His grin is lopsided and adorable and everything that I love
about him, all summed up in a smile. “I guess.”
I drop to my knees in front of him, brushing aside the box
so that I can press my chest to his. We are eye to eye , nose to nose, heart to
heart. “Yes. That is my answer to everything you
could ever ask me. Yes. Yes, I will
marry you. Yes, I will keep you
breathing. Yes, I will live here with you. You are my dream. My only dream. Your love, your kiss, your touch–you are everything I will ever need and more than I could’ve hoped
for. I will follow you wherever you
go. Until both of us stop breathing.”
He watches me quietly, intently. “I have one more question.” His voice is low and hoarse. Raw.
“What’s that?”
“Slow or rough?”
I see the wicked glimmer light the warm brown of his eyes,
turning them golden in the flicker of the candles. “Slow,” I answer, pressing my mouth to
his. “And then rough.”
His tongue slips out to trace my bottom lip as he unbuttons
my blouse. “One more question,” he
says, pushing the material from my shoulders and setting to work on the clasp
of my skirt.
“Anything,” I say, arching my neck when his lips start to
skim along my jaw. Sig nudges my
skirt and panties down to the bend of my legs, leaving me in only my
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