Selling Scarlett

Page 87

He squeezes back. “It’ll be nice to get back to the vineyard.”

I look him over, studying his face, but it’s one of those moments where I just can’t read him—so I ask. “Do you think you’re ready?”

He shrugs. “It’s my house.”

“We’ll have to christen it.” We did the same thing at the penthouse, making love in all the spots where he was with Priscilla. At first it was hard for me to know details like that, but any doubts I might have been carrying are all gone now.

We follow the row of runway lights, and Hunter helps me into the cabin, then goes out and talks to some of the techs. A few minutes later, he comes back in, with his hands in the pockets of his black pants. I’m surprised to find he looks tense.

I walk over to him and wrap my arms around his neck, rocking my hips into his. “You okay?”

He nods. “Yeah.” He leans down for a hungry-seeming kiss, and we’re still going at it in one of the chairs when the pilot turns the ‘buckle seat belt’ light on and we have to take our seats. I slide the arm rest up, so our two seats are more like one, and lean my head against his shoulder. Hunter’s arm goes around my back.

“Thank you for coming with me,” he murmurs as he kisses my hair.

“To Napa?”

He nods.

“Of course. You know I would go anywhere with you.” I lace my hand through his.

“Would you?” he asks. I search his face for hints of teasing, but he’s not.

“Hunter, what’s wrong?”

He shuts his eyes and leans his head against the seat.

“Are you feeling bad?”

He shakes his head.

“What is it?”

He takes a deep breath and unbuckles his seat belt. At first I think something’s wrong—we’re still climbing into the sky—but when his face goes pale and he gets down on one knee, my heart starts pounding.

“Libby, I was going to wait for some time memorable and romantic, but I don’t think I can keep this to myself anymore.” He reaches into the pocket of his pants and I stop breathing. “Libby—will you marry me?”

He takes my hand and squeezes my fingers, while his other hand brings out a small, red box. I expect him to open it, but instead he closes his fist around it and looks into my eyes. “I know you’re young and you’ve still got some school to finish. You might want to do things you haven’t done, but we can travel. We can do anything you want. Anything it takes to make you happy. If you want to sell the place in Vegas, we can. If you want to—”

“YES!” I throw my arms around his neck. “Hunter, we don’t have to do any of that. Yes, I’ll marry you!” I smash my lips against his, and I’m laughing. I can feel his smile under my mouth. He deepens the kiss, and I can feel him shudder as I wrap myself around him.

“We don’t have to do anything different,” I murmur. “I don’t want to.” I lean down to kiss his temple and he locks his arms around me. His forehead presses against my throat, and I kiss his cheek.

“How long have you been thinking of this?” I ask.

His eyes flick up to mine, and slowly, a grin spreads across his face. “You really want to know?”


“I designed the ring when you would take naps at the hospital. It shipped to Dr. Libby and I got it from her weeks ago.” He arches one eyebrow. “I would have dropped it on you earlier, but I was worried you weren’t ready.”

“I’m ready! Hunter, let me see it!”

With one arm locked around me, he opens the box, revealing a beautiful, oval ruby ringed by diamonds.

His green eyes hold mine as he fumbles with the box and slides the ring on my finger. I giggle and wave my hand around, buoyant enough to float through the roof and into the sky. “Thank you.” I throw myself into his lap and straddle him, and Hunter’s face burrows into my shoulder.

We sit there wrapped up in each other as the plane soars through the clouds, swooping lower as we near Napa—our home.

After a few minutes of blissful silence and lots of little kisses, Hunter looks down at me, smiling a little slyly. “I kind of already made some preparations.”

“That confident, were we?” I smirk, and he grins. I poke his ribs. “C’mon now. Out with it!”

“I had our room re-done…and I got you a new car. I hope you’re not upset.”


“I know how loyal you are to your Camry. This can just be a weekend car if you want.”

“What kind of car is it?”

“A Porsche.” His eyes are dancing as he thumbs my cheek. “One time I fell in love with a woman in a Porsche.”

“I don’t think that happened until a good bit later.”

He smiles, looking lazy and comfortable and handsome. My fiancé. He looks into my eyes. “I don’t know when it happened, but I’m damn sure glad it did.”

“Me too.” I snuggle up against his hard, warm body as we soar through midnight clouds. “Me, too.”

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