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Black Ties and White Lies(56)

Author:Kat Singleton

For a few moments I watch her sleep. I can’t fight the urge to lean down and press my lips to her forehead. She lets out a content sleepy sigh, the sound making my heart constrict in my chest. It takes everything in me to leave her sleeping alone in the room and talk to the crew who will be taking us to New York.

There’s a split second where I consider saying fuck it and just climb into bed with her. I plan on returning in a bit to check in on her, but I do need to speak with Ezra and answer a few work calls.

Taking one last look at her, I softly shut the door and leave her in peace to sleep.

Earlier she’d said that New York City was her home. I loved the sound of it coming from her lips. It was that moment that I realized Manhattan was no longer the place I call home. I’d call anywhere home if it meant I was with her, because my home is no longer a physical place. My home is her.

I’ve made a home out of Margo, even at the risk of knowing she may never find a home in me.

The feeling of warm lips pressing to the inside of my wrist pull me from a deep sleep. My feet stretch underneath a soft, heavy blanket as my eyes drift open. I feel the tender caress of lips against my palm at the same moment I register Beck’s figure kneeling on the side of the bed.

I smile, feeling hot by the intense gaze in his eyes. “Hi,” I mumble, still trying to fully wake up.

His eyes soften the same moment his fingers run softly over my forehead. “Hi, baby.” Pet names always seemed overused and cliche until I heard the word baby fall from his mouth. Now I’d willingly never hear my own name again if it meant he’d keep calling me it. I thought it may be something he said in the throes of passion, but his use of it now says something different.

He keeps a hold on my hand, laying gentle kisses to it. The gesture does so much to my fragile heart, making it hope for something that isn't in the cards for us.

“How long have I been asleep?” I roll to face him, his grip holding true around my wrist. My eyes travel down his body, realizing he’s changed into a custom suit. Apparently I’d been asleep long enough for him to get cleaned up. It was amusing to see him in the clothing from the inn but disarming to see him back in a suit that was custom made for his body.

It’s only when he presses a kiss to the knuckle of my ring finger that I notice something new. Gasping, I sit up in the bed, tearing my hand from his grip and holding it in front of my face.

I focus on the enormous oval diamond ring on my finger. It’s the biggest diamond I’ve ever seen, and it sits on my ring finger.

“Beck,” I say cautiously. “What is this?” I can’t stop staring at the beauty of the simple gold band with the stunning, flawless diamond that’s perched atop it.

He reaches for my hand, pulling it to his lips once again. “It’s an engagement ring, Violet. One I picked out for you.”

I stare at it. It’s classic yet modern. Definitely gaudy, but I was the one who told him I wanted a massive ring. He’d delivered on that, even if I’d been only halfway kidding when I’d said it.

“I’ve never seen something more stunning,” I marvel, not knowing if I should look at him or the ring.

“I have.” The deepness in the tone of his voice and the intense look in his eyes has my stomach dropping. No one has even been able to make me melt into a puddle just by one look except him. He’s able to say so much without ever uttering a word, yet still leave my mind racing with what lies behind his fervent indigo gaze.

My thumb runs over the metal, the feeling of something on the finger foreign. “Is this a proposal?”

He lifts my chin, making me look away from the ring and look at him. “I will get down on one knee right here and do the proposal thing if that’s what you want, Margo. I have plenty of elaborate and extravagant ideas of ways I could ask you to marry me. I’ve thought of how I’d ask you countless times as I’d carried this ring in my pocket, always wondering when the time would be right to ask you. But none of it would be as special as you deserve. Truth be told, I fucking hate saying this, but I don’t want to take the special feeling away from you when someone gets down on their knee and asks you for real. You’ve agreed to be my fiancée for a year, but only for a year. If I were to propose to you the way you deserve, the way I want to, I’d make damn sure no other man could ever compete with it. So I’ve waited on the whole typical proposal thing, only to be fair to the next guy.”

I swallow, trying to hide the tears that threaten to spill from my eyes. “You’re probably right,” I croak, emotion welling in my throat. No matter how hard it is to hear his words, I understand his point. I can’t imagine ever wanting to say yes to another man after the way Beck has unintentionally laid claim to my body and heart recently. I try not to think about the expiration date of our agreement, of the day he won’t look at me with the same heated stare he does right now.

His mouth parts like he wants to say something. For a fleeting moment, I let myself hope for something I know won’t happen. The look in his eyes gives me a brief moment of longing that he’s beginning to feel the same things I do. That the moments we shared last night had meant something to him like they’d meant something to me.

Beck runs a finger over my eyebrow. “I wish I knew what was going on in that head of yours,” he mutters, his voice hoarse.

“I could ask you the same thing.”

“Ask me anything, and I’ll tell you.”

It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask him if things have changed for him. If he feels anything for me, even in the slightest. I almost ask it, but I manage to keep my questions to myself. The truth is, I don’t want to know the truth. Ultimately, I’m riding false hope that I could change Beck. The whole reason I’m agreeing to be his fake fiancée is because of his love to not settle down or commit to one woman. I’m not naive enough to think one heated night between us would change anything. I wouldn’t even dare think it possible if it weren’t for the unreadable look in his eyes. A look that says so much and nothing all at once.

“Do you want to kiss me?”

“I want to do so much more to you. But that’s a good start.”

He closes the distance between us, melding his mouth to mine in a way I could never grow tired of. I run my fingers through the neatly styled tendrils of his hair, using them as leverage to pull him closer to me. I leave every question I have unasked, deciding to soak in the feeling of his lips pressed to mine instead.

Beck rises from his knees, crawling onto the bed and pressing his body to mine. I love feeling the weight of him on top of me, of sliding my hands underneath his suit jacket and feeling his muscles tense beneath my touch.

He stuns me with his kiss, making me desperate for anything he’s willing to give me. The kiss makes me forget a crew full of people wait on the other side of the thin door. I hadn’t been awake when we’d gotten on the plane, but if it’s the same crew from when we flew out for the business trip, there’s plenty of people waiting on the other side.

Beck’s hand finds my left hand, pushing it up the bed while still kissing me. He intertwines his fingers with mine, brushing his thumb over the diamond. “So, is that a yes?”

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