by Shayla Black
She laughed, grabbing my hand first and kissing my cut finger before taking the roses and cutting open the paper cone holding them together. She turned her back to me, arranging the roses in an empty vase on her dressing table. When she sent a quick glance over her shoulder, our eyes connected. I could feel that look of hers slice all the way through me, spilling my heart and soul onto the floor in a puddle at her feet.
I stepped forward, scooping her hair off her shoulder and pressing my hands against the back of her neck, kneading her muscles in firm circles with my thumb.
Her eyes fluttered closed, lashes brushing the tops of her cheeks as she dropped her head back against my chest again and moaned, all the air rushing between her parted scarlet lips. As though my touch made her breathless. God, I hoped it did.
She dropped the roses she had been arranging and they scattered across the table as she curled her arms around my neck and kissed me hard. Her tongue plunged into my mouth, and fuck me, if she hadn’t already been in costume and full hair and makeup, I would have taken her right here against her lit mirror.
We parted, and this time, I was the breathless one. She panted heavily and reached for something in her makeup bag. It was clutched in her fist and she looked down at her hand, nervously. “I was going to wait until after the show…after the party to talk to you. I know you and Faith were together for a long time before you ever got engaged. And I know you said that long engagements freak you out.” She swallowed, pausing, glancing up at me through the threads of her black lashes.
I brushed a piece of her hair behind her ear, my brows creasing. “You can’t blame me for not wanting a long engagement, right? The last time, all hell broke loose.” I tapped her hand and asked, “What’s this about?” She dropped her gaze to her hands. There was something in her tone that I’d never heard before. I bent, meeting her eyes, and grinned at her, loving the way she nervously nibbled her bottom lip. “What we have, Hazel…it’s nothing like what I had with Faith. I would marry you tomorrow if you were ready.”
Her gaze jerked to mine. “What?”
I reached into my breast pocket and pulled out a small velvet box, opening it and dropping to one knee in front of her. “Hazel Stone, I didn’t think I’d ever find love again. I didn’t think I was worthy of the sort of love you’ve shown me. I know I said I want a short engagement, but the truth is…I just want you. However you’ll take me. If that means we’re engaged for ten years until you’re ready, I’ll take that. If it means you want to fly to Vegas tonight, I’ll take that. As long as I get you in the end.”
She swallowed, tears brimming in her eyes, and slowly her clenched fist opened, revealing a simple titanium band in her palm. “I was going to ask you to marry me.” She laughed, covering her mouth with her free hand. “You’re always ruining my plans, Bradley!” She moved to smack me on the shoulder, but I caught her hand, tugging the simple square-cut diamond from the box and sliding it halfway up her knuckle.
“Is that a yes?”
She nodded, one tear spilling over the edge of her eye. “Yes.” I slid the ring on the whole way and stood, kissing her hard. “On one condition,” she whispered. “Vegas is too far and we have another show tomorrow night.” She paused, showing me the ring she’d been holding. “Let’s drive to Atlantic City…tonight.”
I kissed her hard, lifting her in my arms.
“Do you want to invite anyone?”
“Just Rosa,” she said. “And what about you? Any best man you want to bring?”
I didn’t even have to think about it before I answered, “Noah Tripp. He’s the whole reason we’re together in the first place.”
She rolled her eyes playfully at that. “I guess I can forgive him, finally.”
There was a knock at the door and Hazel yelled for them to come in. Max, the stage manager, poked his head inside. “Places,” he said, grinning just as nervously as Hazel was.
I brushed my lips against hers, gently this time. Thank God for long-lasting lip stain. “But first…before we do anything, you have to go break a leg tonight.”
“I will,” she said, squeezing my hand and sliding the ring off her finger, tucking it safely into its velvet box. “But Sister Mary would not be engaged.”
She winked and strolled past me to get into her spot on stage for the start of the show as I slipped out into the audience to take my seat for opening night. How lucky was I that I got to watch the makings of a star. I got to see her blossom into the Tony winner I knew she would someday become.
And I got to marry her. Tonight.
About Katana Collins
As an author and a story-teller, it is the lifeblood to which my ideas take flight. And I believe in giving credit where credit is due. Occasionally someone (ie – my husband) will try to secretly switch out my beloved regular coffee for decaf. I always know the difference. ALWAYS (I’m looking at you, SEAN).
Since penning my first novel back in 2012, I’m now an international author with 15 published books, in a wide range of contemporary romance genres–(Paranormal, New Adult, Small town, Erotic Suspense… you name it!).
After living for a decade in Brooklyn, NY, I took the plunge and moved to beautiful (although kinda chilly) Portland, Maine. I now live full time in ‘Vacationland’ with a kind of mean cat, a mellow chihuahua, and a very NOT mellow lab-pittie mix. Oh, yeah… there’s a husband who draws comics somewhere in that mix, too.