Pierced: Pierced Trilogy Boxed Set (104 page)

Looking up at her, Samantha is drenched and beautiful and looking down at me in amazement. And I know that it is now or never.

“I love you, Sam,” I say quietly, holding my grandmother’s ring in my hand.

“Josh?” Her voice is small and full of emotion and she is looking at me questioningly.

“I thought my life was full,” I tell her softly. “That it was meaningful and had purpose. But Conner was right … I was just fooling myself … because until I met you, my life was so empty.” I feel the knot in my throat, and I know that I won’t get through this without getting emotional. Taking a deep breath, I push on, trying to stave off the unmanly tears. “You are everything that I never knew I wanted. My heart began to beat the moment I first stepped foot into your hospital room. And that night that I first kissed you on your balcony … that kiss was like taking my first breath. You brought me to life, Samantha! And I don’t think that I could ever live without you again … I wouldn’t know how to breathe, my heart wouldn’t know how to beat. So … I’m not asking here, Sam. I am
begging.
Will you marry me?”

“Oh, Josh,” she whispers. She says nothing more; she just prolongs my agony as she stares down at me, dumbfounded. And I watch as a tear begins to travel down her cheek, as if in slow motion.

“Please, baby … say yes!” My voice is a desperate whisper, and I am silently panicking on the inside.

“Yes,” she says with a soft sob, smiling down at me. “Yes, yes, yes!” She is bouncing up and down in that five-year-old little girl way that she has, and I can’t stop myself. I stand suddenly and take her into my arms, mid-bounce, and hold her to me tightly for several seconds. When I set her on her feet again, she looks up at me with the biggest smile and I know that my own smile mirrors hers. Taking her left hand, I slowly slip the ring onto her finger and I hear her let out a soft gasp.

“Josh, it’s beautiful,” she exclaims. “How did…,”

She stops short but, I know what she’s thinking. How did I manage such a sizable ring on my salary. It’s an honest question; one that I don’t mind her asking. And I love the sentiment this ring holds. “This ring used to belong to my grandmother,” I say proudly, looking into her eyes. “She told my mom that she wanted me to have it someday. To give to the woman I want to spend my life with.”

“I love you so much, Joshua,” she whispers, tears streaming down her face again. And I can’t hold back anymore. I take her into my arms and kiss her slowly and passionately. I’m really not certain how long we stand beneath the wooden shelter waiting for the rain to stop but, we pass the time lost in each other, locked in a red hot embrace. And we’re both breathless and panting when we pull away.

The rain has slowed slightly, and Sam looks out at the darkening sky and says, “I think now might be our chance to make a mad dash to the truck.”

Nodding my agreement, I help while she slips her arms through the arms of my jacket and pulls it around her. Then I take her by the hand. “Ready?”

She nods, and we make a run for it, sprinting back down the trail we’ve just come up, laughing and giggling the entire way. When we make it to the truck, I quickly open the driver’s side door and Sam climbs in, scooting to the middle, and I quickly slide in after her and start her up. As we get underway, Sam is still giggling like a schoolgirl, and I can’t help laughing as I wrap my arm around her, pulling her close. And she is shaking like a leaf, she’s so wet and cold.

I reach over and turn up the heat in the truck, then wrap my arm around her and pull her close once more. We don’t say much on the quick ride home. We don’t need to; we are both lost to the enchantment of the moment, caught up in the magic of the proposal, and the ring and our love, and the rain. It’s a potent combination, and one that I wouldn’t have thought could bring such euphoria but, it does.

I pull the truck into the garage of our new house, and marvel once again that I actually live here. When we climb out of the truck, I take Samantha by the hand and we enter the house through the side door of the garage, stepping first into the mudroom that’s just off the kitchen. And the moment we do, Sam begins to strip.

She removes my jacket, letting it fall to the floor, followed immediately by her t-shirt. “We should get out of these wet clothes as quickly as possible,” she says, shimmying out of her yoga pants and shoes. She doesn’t need to ask me twice. Lifting my t-shirt up and over my head, I am out of my athletic pants and my soaked underwear and socks in no time. And when we are both completely butt naked, I reach for her and she yelps, slapping my hand and jumping backwards out of my reach. I know that I’m wearing a startled expression right now.

“You give a girl a ring and you think you can just grab her?” she says playfully, her bright green eyes sparkling like emeralds at me. “I am not that easy, Detective. You’re going to have to catch me first!”

“Oh, really?” I smile at her sexy little game. Then I lunge at her and she squeals in delight and takes off, running through the kitchen. Laughing, I run after her, our sopping wet clothing forgotten on the mudroom floor as I chase her through the house: through the family room, past the living room and up the front staircase, down the hall, and into our bedroom. She stops right in front of our bed and I grab her, pulling her into my arms as she giggles uncontrollably. And she is just so incredibly beautiful.

“Do you have any idea how much I love you, Samantha?” My voice is a choked whisper, and she smiles so sweetly at me.

“Oh, Josh. I love you too. I love you so much,” she says, looking into my eyes.

I kiss her then, passionate and deep. My arms wrapped around her waist as I begin to walk her slowly backwards toward the bed. Our bodies meld as we sink onto the mattress, my hands running over her silky soft flesh as I caress every inch of her. And soon I am buried deep inside her and we are lost in each other, drowning in the depths of our passion as our bodies writhe and move together in unison.

Over and over, I make love to her like my life depends on it, pouring all of my emotion and intensity into her again and again. And I pour out my heart to her as well, telling her all of the things I’ve struggled to say over the course of our courtship. My heart feels so unbelievably full, and it all just comes spilling out as we make love, my eyes locked on hers as we move.

“I love you, Sam,” I whisper as I move inside her, in and out, pumping slowly and rhythmically. “I will always love you, baby … I will always take care of you … I want you to be with me forever … I will never hurt you, baby; I promise … I will never touch you in anger, Sam … I will be so good to you, I swear, baby … I promise, you will always be safe with me. Always! I love you so much!”

“Oh, Joshua!” It’s a soft tearful moan as her body builds toward a crescendo and my intensity increases, driving her steadily higher. She cries out as her orgasm overtakes her and she explodes in my arms. Her body tightens and convulses around me as I detonate deep inside of her, calling out her name in ecstasy.

*****

I laugh joyously as I watch Sam holding out her hand, wiggling her fingers as she examines her engagement ring again, watching the diamonds sparkle and catch the light. The ring fits her finger perfectly, and she looks so sexy wearing it and nothing else. I tighten my arms around her and pull her even closer to me, snuggling under the covers after our intense lovemaking.

“Do you like it?” I ask her softly.

“No. I love it! It’s breathtaking, Josh,” she answers. “Will you tell me about it?” she asks, smiling at me.

I return her smile and lean in, kissing her lips softly. “My Grandma Mona,” I begin, “that’s my mom’s mother. Well, she and my Grandpa Dominic … they weren’t rich or anything.”

“Dominic?” she interrupts questioningly. “Like your middle name?”

I smile and nod at her. “They never had more than two nickels to rub together. And when they got married, all they had were these two simple, inexpensive, silver-plated bands. Not worth much of anything.”

“Then where did the ring come from?” Samantha asks right on cue, her voice full of wonder. “It has to be at least three and a half carats.”

“It’s actually closer to four,” I inform her quietly. “And as for where it came from … well, their entire marriage, Grandpa would always work two … sometimes even three jobs, trying to make ends meet and keep food on the table for Grandma Mona and Mom and Aunt Celeste. But what Grandma didn’t know is that every payday, without fail, Grandpa would set aside a little bit of money. Just squirrel it away without her knowing. And whenever it would come down to making sacrifices, he was always the one that went without so that none of his girls ever had to. But he never touched that money he was saving. He did that every single payday for the first ten years of their marriage. And on their tenth wedding anniversary, he took all of that money and went to Tiffany’s and bought her the biggest diamond he could afford.”

“Oh, my God,” she says softly. “That is the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard. Is it true?”

“Yes. Every word,” I answer.

She’s quiet for a few moments as she looks down at the ring and mulls over my Grandpa’s sacrifice. “And, why did she want you to have it?” she finally asks, her voice a quiet whisper.

I shrug my shoulders a little and sigh. “I was fascinated with this ring when I was little. It was shiny and pretty, and I used to play with it … twirl it around her finger all the time, like this,” I say bashfully, recalling the memory as I demonstrate on Sam’s hand. “I was always really close to her,” I mumble. I don’t know why I’m feeling so shy all of a sudden; Samantha knows all the highlights of my horrific childhood now. “Because of all the shit going on in our house … going to my grandparent’s place was like a safe haven for me. And she would always dote on me.”

“And bake you peanut butter cookies?” she smiles.

“Yes,” I smile bashfully.

Sam falls silent again for a moment, and then she asks, “Did they know? That you and your mom were being abused?” she asks softly, almost timidly. And I think she’s afraid of upsetting me.

I nod slowly. “I think they all knew,” I answer her quietly. “But things were different back then. There was no Domestic Violence law. The cop’s hands were basically tied; a man could beat the living shit out of his wife and, legally, that was okay. The cops could break up the fighting but, they couldn’t arrest him. Not without the wife pressing charges. And nine times out of ten, that would never happen. The wife was usually much too terrified to go against him. There wasn’t much anyone could do.” I’m quiet for a second as I think back on that time. “You know … that fucking law finally went into effect just a few months after the old man died. A few lousy months,” I finish quietly.

Again, Sam is silent for a moment. And then she reaches out and runs her diamond-clad hand over my cheek, caressing my face, and I take her hand in mine and bring it to my lips, kissing her palm.

“Thank you for sharing that with me,” she says softly.

“It’s your ring now,” I smile at her. “You should know its history.”

“It’s a beautiful ring, Josh. And an even more beautiful love story, and I am so honored to be a part of it,” she smiles at me. “Thank you for proposing to me.”

Her words are so sweet and innocent, and they melt me. “Thank you for saying yes,” I whisper, caressing her face. She smiles broadly at me for a second and then launches herself at me.

We spend the entire rest of the day locked away in our bedroom on Saturday, just making love and watching the rain come down through the French doors that lead out to the private deck. I build a fire in the fireplace while Sam scrounges up dinner for us, and we spread a couple blankets on the floor and eat a picnic of cheese, fruit and bread as we cuddle in front of the fire. We feed each other as we talk and sip champagne to celebrate our engagement, and I can’t get over how lovely she looks in the firelight – like the goddess she is. I am mesmerized by her.

After we eat, we curl up on the floor and talk like we never have before. Samantha tells me more about her difficult relationship with her mom, and she asks me all types of questions about my parents and my childhood. And amazingly, I don’t get the least bit angry or uncomfortable at her questions, and I marvel at that. What’s changed? Why is it suddenly so easy for me to talk about the old man and my childhood with her?
Maybe you feel safe with her, Pierce.
I frown at the idea. Is that it? I feel safe with Sam? Protected and sheltered? Free to be vulnerable. It’s an interesting thought.

“Did your father come from an abusive home?” Sam asks, looking down at me, and her voice is almost a whisper. I’m lying flat on my back and she is propped up on her elbow as my hand lightly runs over her silky skin.

“Yes,” I say softly, my eyes fixed on the flames in the fireplace as I think about her question. “His mother … she wised up and ran off when he and his brother were young. Only she left them with their abusive old man. Never looked back.”

“Wow.” She sounds a little shocked at this news and I turn and look into her eyes.

“From the stories I heard growing up, sounded like Danny Pierce learned everything he knew about how to treat a woman from his old man.” Samantha’s bright green eyes catch the firelight and they almost seem to glow in the dimly lit room. And they study me sadly, boring into my own eyes with so much compassion. “Abuse is so often a vicious cycle, Sam. It’s why I kept myself from getting involved for so many years. Because I never want to become that.”

“I know,” she says softly, caressing my face as I lay on my back, looking up at her. “And you’re not, Josh. You are not that man.”

She leans down and kisses me, and my fingers thread themselves in her silky hair, fisting and holding her mouth to mine as I kiss her hungrily. Wrapping my arms around her, I roll over on the blankets, taking her with me, never breaking our kiss. And as the fire continues to crackle in front of us, I make love to her once more.

*****

I wake early on Sunday, rubbing my eyes as I look out at the light rain refusing to let up outside. Then I sigh and turn over, away from the French doors, toward Samantha. Propping myself up on my elbow, I do one of my most favorite things in the world – watching her sleep. She is so incredibly beautiful and I can’t believe she is really mine. She said yes. She actually said yes!
You actually asked, Pierce!
I smirk to myself at that thought. Yes, I did, didn’t I? Unbelievable but true. And I am so damned happy about it!