The Closer You Get (36 page)

At last, he pulled away. In the moonlight, she could see his swollen lips and sparkling eyes. He breathed hard and petted her face.
 

Abruptly he scooted back behind the wheel and turned the key. Cora buckled her seatbelt, assuming they’d be heading straight to her house to finish what they’d started.

But at the main highway, Rye turned right instead of left.

“Where are we going?”

“Darcy’s.”

She frowned. “It’s after one in the morning. I’m pretty sure it’s closing.”

“We’ll be there for last call. I wanna dance with you.”

“That’s what you wanna do with me? Dance?”

“Yes, ma’am. I wanna dance with you real bad.”

She had no idea what to say to that since all she could think about was getting him inside of her again as fast as possible, and all he wanted to do was dance.

They pulled into the lot in front of Darcy’s and parked. She still couldn’t believe, even as she stepped out of the truck and into the bar, that they weren’t going home yet.

The crowd was thinning. The only music was from the jukebox, but it was slow. Rye brought her into his arms and danced with her. She held on and rested against him.

Last call came and went. The customers in the bar gradually left. Lights dimmed. The only lights were the ones above the bar, and one chandelier over a pool table.

“Rye, we have to go,” she said.

“Not yet.”

“Jack’s the only one left, and he’ll be wanting to go home soon.”

“Not yet.”

He danced with her until the finish of the song. Then he pulled back and walked away. Jack was heading toward the front door. He stopped, handed Rye a set of keys, and shook his hand. Jack left.

“What’s going on?” Cora asked.

Rye sat the keys on the counter and went behind the bar. He brought out a bottle of wine and two glasses. Cora approached the bar slowly, her heart, for some reason, racing. “Rye?”

He poured two glasses of wine and slid one across the counter to her. “I fell in love with your dimples, first, you know that?”

She grinned and lowered her eyes. She hid behind a sip of wine.

“Yeah,” he said with a sigh. “Those dimples. They made you more human to me, I guess. More girly, too. I actually got kind of angry at you for smiling because after that moment; I never could get back to thinking of you as the cold, hard boss lady. No, after that, all I could think of was how warm and soft you must be. And you are. I love holding your warm, soft body against mine. Especially at night when you’re sleeping and I’m laying there thanking God over and over for bringing me here and giving me the chance to have you.”

Her eyes filled with tears.

He smiled and drank the last of his wine. “How ‘bout a game?” he asked, jerking his head toward the only illuminated table.

How he could think about a game after saying such romantic things was beyond her. But she looked, anyway. There were two pool cues, crossed atop the pool table, over the corner, the tips hanging out over the edge. Something shiny glinted off the end of one of the cues. Cora blinked. Stood. Walked.

Hanging on the end of the cue was a ring. Cora had one arm hugging her waist, the other hand fidgeting with her necklace. She worried her bottom lip with her teeth as her mind took way too long digesting the implications of this moment.
 

Rye’s hand on her hip made her turn. He knelt on one knee in front of her, took the ring and her hand, and said, “I’m not the kind of man to second guess or question myself. I had my mind made up about you pretty quick, and I can’t see any logical reason to put this off. More than that, I just don’t want to. Do you?”

She shook her head frantically, just trying to breathe.

“Cora, my love, will you be my wife?”

“Yes!” she gasped.

He slid the ring onto her finger, stood, and embraced her. “Thank you,” he murmured into her neck. “Thank you, Cora. My girl. I love you so much.”

Cora sobbed into his shoulder, more filled with joy than her body could contain.

When at last he pulled away, Cora saw that his eyes were wet, but his smile was big. “Good proposal, huh?”

“Yes,” she said with a laugh and a swipe at her tears. “You did good.”

“Jack says we can’t have sex on this pool table.”

She dropped her head back and laughed. “Then take me home, fiancé.”

He took her hand. They turned out the rest of the lights and locked up for Jack. Rye took her home and made love to her. They fell asleep in each other’s arms as they intended to do every night for the rest of their lives.

Carter Ashby is a hardworking housewife and homeschool mother by day, and a romance reader and writer by night. She lives in rural Missouri with her husband, three children, and two dogs.