“What?”
He reaches over and hands me an envelope from the nightstand. I look at it and slowly open it up. It’s a first-class ticket from Silver Bay to Vegas, dated for two days after I get back from Europe.
“I want you with me, Rose, just like you are here,” he says, sitting up and staring down at me with the most serious look I’ve ever seen on his face. “I don’t know if you’re still thinking about staying in France with Kate or whatever, but if you are coming back to America, come back to me. Please.”
I take in the sweet, eager look on his face. It’s everything I ever dreamed of since I was young—to have him look at me like that. I drop my gaze, my eyes sweeping over his gorgeous torso and then… I see the tattoo. My mouth drops open. “Oh my God… Luc.”
I reach out and gently trace the new design. The fleur-de-lis is filled now. The empty space in the bottom now holds an intricate black ink drawing of a rose. My vision blurs with tears, but I blink them back.
“The fleur-de-lis is my Quebec heritage. The top half, with the Garrisons and me on the rink, that’s my past. The words mean ‘more than my life’ because that’s how I feel about hockey. It’s what made me who I am. So have the Garrisons,” he says quietly, explaining what I already, intuitively, knew. “I left the bottom empty because I wanted to put something there that symbolizes the rest of my life, moving forward, and I wasn’t sure what that was until this summer.”
I look up at him and he smiles softly and leans forward, his lips brushing mine. “It’s you.”
He kisses me, long, slow and deep. I crawl up in his lap, wrapping my legs around him as he wraps his arms around me. “Move to Vegas with me, Fleur. S’il te plait.”
“Of course.” I run my hands through his bed head. “I love you, remember? And someone has to be there for you. You’re a bit of a disaster when you’re in love.”
He laughs at that. “I am.”
He rolls me over and starts to kiss his way down my body again. As he reaches my abdomen and moves to my hipbone, I sigh and my eyes flutter closed.
“Say it again,” I beg him softly.
“I love you, Rose,” he whispers gruffly and I smile as his lips move even lower. No matter what happens next, it’ll all be okay because Luc Richard loves me.