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Javier closed his eyes. He couldn’t handle more at this moment.
Two weeks after he became ill with malaria, he and Cecily left the hotel to continue their journey. In this age of technology, he’d sold his apartment with the furnishings over the Internet. Javier, at Jorge’s suggestion, found a car service that would pick up and purchase any vehicle. He sold the Porsche and bought something he’d dreamed about as a kid—a pickup truck.
“Do you want to return to New York?” he asked Cecily.
“I don’t care if I ever go there again.”
“Good answer.” If she had really wanted, he would have caved and gone back despite any risks, but Javier was glad they agreed.
“I love you, Javier. I’ll go where you go.”
He had confessed he loved her, that he’d never had these feelings for any other woman and hadn’t expected he ever would. Expressing emotion hadn’t been easy but he did his best. Maybe in time it would be simpler.
Jorge had returned home a week earlier. Since he’d ratted Javier out for being sick, Javier had talked to his mother and sister on the phone.
“Is everything packed and in the truck?” he asked Cecily.
She nodded, then planted a kiss on his lips. For the first time since his illness, his cock stiffened. If they hadn’t already committed to check out, he would have booked another night and taken her. He craved her but he would make love, not have sex.
“Then let’s go, mi Corazon.”
Javier headed for the Gateway Arch, something they had seen through the hotel windows but never visited. He planned to surprise Cecily and visit the landmark. After they parked, they walked to the monument.
“You remembered I wanted to see it,” she cried. “Thank you, Javier.”
“De nada,” he told her. “Let’s ride to the top.”
Once there, a few other tourists milled about the small room, gawking through the slanted windows. Cecily joined them but Javier had eyes only for her.
He reached into his pocket and removed a small box. After he felt well enough to leave the hotel, he’d done a little shopping. Before he went home, Jorge had helped him choose an exquisite diamond ring. It featured a pear-shaped center black diamond surrounded by both white and black diamonds. It had a matching wedding band.
At the top of the Gateway Arch, Javier knelt and cleared his throat. Cecily turned at the sound and gasped.
“What are you doing?”
“Mi Corazon, mi Tesoro, Azúcar, will you be my wife?”
The beautiful woman he had dubbed Cinder-fucking-rella the first night smiled through tears. “Yes, Javier, yes. I love you so much.”
“I love you, woman, more than I’ll ever know how to say or show you.”
She offered him her hand and he slid the ring onto her finger. He stood and pulled her into his arms for a slow, sweet, lingering kiss. The tourists applauded and he whispered in her ear, “Let’s go home.”
In the new truck, as they left St. Louis behind, Javier asked the important questions he should have before.
“Do you mind if we maybe stay a while in Guymon?”
“With your brother’s family?”
Javier shook his head. “What if I already bought a house?”
Her eyes became huge and wide. “Did you?”
He had money, he had superb Internet skills, and he had. “I did, yes.”
“Tell me about it.”
“It’s made of rock and cedar,” he told her. He opened his phone to saved photos of the place. “Six bedrooms, four bathrooms, multiple levels, a huge fireplace, an open floor plan, and more. It’s beautiful. It’s not three miles from Jorge and it sits well away from the street on the edge of town. Behind it, there’s acres of open prairie. If you don’t like it, we can sell it and move anywhere.”
