Page 23 of Range
“Do I matter?”
“Good evening, Mr. Armstrong. Good evening, M–”
“Ms. Childers.”
“Ms. Childers. I’m Asia. I will be your server tonight. Can I get you started with our house water, or would you like sparkling?”
“House,” I responded. “And a blueberry mint martini.”
“Good choice,” Asia replied.
“I’ll have a glass of Hennessy. Neat.”
I clenched my walls together, attempting to dull the ache that followed his request. Tonight would be a grand time.
“Alright. Sounds good. Do we have any starters in mind?”
I folded my shoulders inward and pressed my back against the booth. The conversation between Asia and me had ended. Kason’s lead was imperative for this moment.
“We’re going to have a crab cake, four ounces. We’ll also have your crab rice. Lastly, charbroiled oysters.”
I gnawed on my jawline, observing every movement of his lips. They felt so good against mine, notably the second set; the ones suffocating between my knees.
“I’ll get that out to you soon. Anything else?”
“No.”
“Are we celebrating anything tonight?”
Kason’s head nod left me stumped. I wasn’t aware of a celebration or the cause.
“Great. What are we celebrating tonight?”
“The same thing I’m trying to celebrate for the rest of my life.” He chuckled, nervously, running his hands down the legs of his pants. “This beautiful piece of art next to me.”
My eyes rolled upward as a smile broke out on my face. A slight chuckle followed.
“Then, I guess we’re celebrating you, tonight, then.”
“Every night,” Kason corrected.
With a bright, unwavering smile, Asia nodded and headed toward the kitchen.
“Every night, huh?” I laughed. “You think your schedule will permit that? I’d hate for you to make promises you can’t commit to, Kason. We’re in great standing. We don’t have to complicate this just for the sake of it.”
“I’m not making promises I can’t commit to, Range.” He sighed, rubbing a hand over his head. “Commitment is exactly what I want. What I need. What we need.”
“Yeah?” I inquired.
He nodded.
“Yes. I like what we have. I love what we have. And, I’ve been trying to make sense of your perfection since you stepped foot in my life. I can’t. Neither can I make sense of the idea of not bathing in it for the rest of my days. I’m not getting younger, and I am aware of my desires as a grown-ass man. I’m just hoping you are, too.”
His body grew further away. It wasn’t long before I was the only one in the booth and his knee was piercing the carpeted floor. A bright diamond shone in the dimness, dancing around in the box that held it.
With swollen orbs and a pounding heart, I slid closer to the edge, closer to him. Disbelief was grounding. It kept my body pressed against the booth. The sounds around me diminished. The visuals disappeared. All I saw was Kason.
On one knee.
