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Exposed - My Mountain Man Protector Page 14
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When he spoke, his voice was an emotional hush.
“Claire, the first day I met you was the day my life began. Before I met you I was asleep, half-living. I was trapped and didn’t even know it. I never thought I’d meet someone I could respect, get along with, trust like you. I didn’t think a woman like you existed.”
“Blake,” I murmured, but he held up his hand.
“You make me a better man, Claire. You are the sun and the moon, my best friend and the sexiest woman I know. You are my everything, and I know, as long as I’m breathing, that you always will be.”
As my heart exploded with joy, he took a little navy box out of his pocket and opened it.
“Claire, will you make me the happiest man in the world and marry me?”
“Blake!” I exclaimed.
“I told Lila a few days ago, had her come down, and then I asked your parents at lunch. I’ve been so nervous; that’s why I’ve seemed off the past few days.”
“Oh, Blake,” I murmured again.
I kissed him and then pulled back, staring into his adoring, beautiful eyes. Time froze again, and I closed my eyes.
In the swirl of joy, surprise, and gratitude, there was something else too: another man on one knee holding up highway traffic, another girl saying yes before she even thought about her answer for a second. What had I told myself just a few months ago about rushing things?
I opened my eyes. I knew what I had to do.
“Blake,” I said, “you’ve made me the happiest I’ve ever been. But I wouldn’t be being fair to me or you if I accepted your proposal without taking a minute to think about it. I’ll go for a quick walk now, if that’s all right with you.”
Blake was clearly disappointed, but he nodded and squeezed my hand.
“Yes. Yes, of course.”
I smiled at him, kissed his cheek, and then walked off into the night.
It was too dark to see much; I almost tripped on a tree root. I stopped by an oak tree and leaned on it. Was this how I was going into love again? Making the same mistakes in love as last time—moving too fast, too recklessly? I’d only known Blake a few months after all.
I felt at my face, at the traces of the smile still there.
It was not only time that made you know a person, though. In these past few months, Blake and I had shared everything, our hopes and dreams, our fears. Yes, I might have known Blake for only a few months, but I really did know him.
I turned in the direction of the cabin, and just as I was about to set out, an insidious voice said, You thought you really knew Angelo too.
I sat down and closed my eyes. Inhaled and then exhaled. Asked myself: Should I marry Blake?
When I opened my eyes, the answer wasn’t there, although something else wasn’t either: that swirling pit of foreboding in my gut that had been there as Angelo had popped the question and I had squealed “yes!” that had been there after the whole car ride. That had turned into chronic indigestion that had gone on for weeks.
No, marrying Blake didn’t feel wrong like marrying Angelo had. It felt right.
I rose. My feet started taking me back toward the cabin; they seemed to think I had made my decision.
As I walked, the owls from before hooted their congratulations, while behind me the wind whooshed me on. On, toward the love of my life, who was waiting for me by the fire.
He rose as I approached, and the words flew out of me without thinking, because there was no more thinking. There was no need, now that I knew.
“Yes, Blake. Oh God, yes!”
The gorgeous, simple gold ring he slid onto my finger was a perfect fit. Then Blake was sweeping me up in his arms, twirling me round and round and round.
Even with all the spinning, I didn’t feel dizzy. I didn’t want Blake to stop—not ever. Because I felt it, in every fiber of my being: This was right. This man spinning me was my soul mate, and we were going to be happy together for the rest of our lives.
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