Beautifully Forgotten (46 page)

“And that’s it? End of discussion?” Darcy stuttered as she sat up, pulling the sheet with her.

“Discussion? You just said there wasn’t one.” He was being intentionally obtuse.

“And you have no thoughts about our last names?” Darcy could feel her temper beginning to stir.

“I think MacBride is a great name. Why? Don’t you like it?”

“I like yours better,” she muttered and started to climb from the bed, but he moved, pulling her under him, pinning her with his body.

“What was that?” he asked.

She refused to look at him because he was intentionally making this hard. “I didn’t say anything.”

“Really, I could have sworn that you said you liked my last name better. Do you?”

“You know damn well I love your last name and I want it to be mine too.”

“So you are asking me to marry you.”

“No!”

“Very well.” He rolled off and away from her, and Darcy was about to make a disparaging comment about his person when he turned back to her. Instead of holding—dare she even think it—a small leather box, he was holding a small silver cross. She recognized it immediately.

“That was Sister Anne’s.”

“The day we were going to meet, I was going to give this to you. I wanted to give you something that conveyed how I felt about you and this was the only thing I had of value.”

Tears filled Darcy’s eyes, but they never left Lucien’s gaze. “You were going to give me her necklace?”

“It was all I had to give.”

She was about to throw herself into his arms.
Oh my God. What a gesture
. But he stopped her. “I’m not done.”

“Sorry,” Darcy said, but she couldn’t manage disgruntled. She was just too damn happy.

“I was going to give this to you as a promise, a promise to never hurt you, to never leave you, to always find my way back to you even when we were pissed off and wanted to kill each other. A promise to love only you as long as I drew breath.”

His hand closed over the necklace. “But you didn’t show up.”

“What?” And then she punched him because he had made her cry again with the most perfect words ever.

He laughed before he unhooked the clasp and secured it around her neck. “I was a kid then.” He climbed from bed and returned with a small box in his hand.

He handed it to her. Her hands shook when she lifted the lid to see the sapphire, the color almost the exact shade of her eyes, surrounded by diamonds.

“But the man I’ve become still loves you as desperately as the kid I was. Marry me, Darcy.”

Darcy had fantasized about this moment so many times through the years and, every time, it was the most beautiful and poignant moment: he confesses his love, she confesses hers, and they live happily-ever-after. In real life, it didn’t happen quite that way.

“I’m going to throw up,” she managed before she stumbled from the room. The sound of her hacking filled the silence.

Lucien sat on the bed, a little dazed at the turn of events. “I can honestly say I didn’t see that coming,” he said to himself.

Darcy appeared in the doorway, and the look on her face made Lucien concerned. For a minute, he thought she was going to turn him down.

“What’s wrong?”

“What are your thoughts on babies?”

It took him a minute and then his eyes moved to her stomach before looking back at her. “Are you serious?”

“Yep.”

He jumped up and kissed her. “You have to marry me, now.”

“I was always going to marry you, you fool.”

“A baby.”

She sobered for a minute before she asked, “Do you think Brandon will be upset?”

“He was an orphan, so no, I doubt it.”

He kissed her so tenderly that his heart ached. “We’ve our futures to think about, which includes children,” he whispered against her lips.

“More than two?” she asked.

He flashed her a grin. “The more the merrier.” He lifted her in his arms. “And think of all the practice.”

He carried her to their bed and made his point slowly and with great attention to detail.

D
ane scanned the restaurant for escape routes. Lucien Black wanted to have lunch with him. Fabulous. As if he didn’t have enough shit going on in his life, he now needed to deal with the mysterious Lucien Black. And he was still sober; he should get a fucking medal.

He didn’t need to see Lucien to know he had arrived, since most of the women in the place turned their heads to catch a glimpse of him. Lucien reached the table and sat without ceremony. Dane was tempted to order a drink, but when prompted by the waiter, he asked for water.

Seeming to take his lead, Lucien did as well. “Thanks for agreeing to meet with me.”

“Yeah, whatever. So what did you want?”

“I guess you haven’t spoken to Horace,” Lucien said.

“Only in that you wanted to talk with me.”

“Well, as it turns out, we’re brothers.”

“What?”
For a practical joke, this one sucked.

“My father is Horace and my mother is Belinda. They had a one-night stand the night of the infamous engagement party and I’m the result of that.”

“You’re not kidding, are you?”

“Nope. Believe me, I wasn’t particularly thrilled to learn I was related to you, but you can’t pick your family. I’m willing to try if you are, but with that being said, you ever lay another finger on my friend’s wife and I’ll kill you and burn the body. In fact, let’s branch that out to any unwilling woman. You feel me?”

Dane gulped.

“I’m getting married in a few months and I would like you to be there.”

“Huh? Why?”

“Haven’t you been listening? You’re family.”

Dane felt like his head was in a dryer; one minute Lucien threatened his life and the next he was asking him to his wedding. Damn, he needed a drink, but he couldn’t help smiling a little. It felt kind of nice to be included. He wasn’t going to let the meathead across from him know that, though, so he strove for bored when he said, “Yeah, okay.”

One look at Lucien and Dane knew he hadn’t fooled him. He was gracious enough to not call him on it and instead said, “Let’s eat.”

“Maybe this isn’t such a good idea.” Brandon stopped walking, which made Ember reach for his hand to pull him along.

“They’re your parents and you know the story because you were helping us.”

“I know, but what if they’re disappointed?”

Ember stopped walking to look at him. “How could they be disappointed in you?”

“I don’t know. I mean, I come from nothing.”

“So did they.” She started along, keeping his hand in hers, and said, “Let me tell you a story. Once there was a boy and girl who fell in love almost from the moment they saw each other. They planned to run away and start a life together. When she learned she was pregnant, it made it all that much more magical, but the powers that be pulled them apart. They found each other again after fourteen years, were still as wildly in love as they were when they’d first met, and, the icing on the cake, they found the son that had been stolen from them. It isn’t possible for them to be disappointed, because you are the result of their incredible love.”

Brandon was silent for a minute, though his hand tightened around Ember’s. “That’s really cheesy.”

“Yeah, it was a little, but every word is true.”

“Are they like you?” he asked seriously.

“How so?”

“Goofy.”

“I’m not goofy.”

“You are a little bit, but I like goofy.”

“Children today . . .”

“Thanks, Ember.”

“You’re welcome, Brandon. Now let’s move, your mom and dad are waiting.”

“I’m so nervous my hands are shaking,” Darcy said, which immediately made Lucien reach for one and hold it in his own. He was conflicted because, though he was thrilled to have found his son, it was heartbreaking to know that his son had been so close throughout the years and he hadn’t known. Every time Lucien had visited St. Agnes or attended the annual picnic, his son had been there too and he’d never known.

He pushed those thoughts aside. “Understandable. We’re about to meet our son. Our teenage son.” Lucien couldn’t help the smile. Talk about history repeating itself. His son was best friends with Trace’s cousin, and they lived at St. Agnes, just as he and Trace had for a time.

“Small fucking world,” Lucien said just as the door opened and Ember walked into the small restaurant she had suggested for the meeting. Right behind her was Brandon.

“Doesn’t he look like you?” Darcy whispered.

“And you.”

They stood as Ember and Brandon approached. Darcy choked on a sob. “He walks just like you. I didn’t notice that the last time.”

Ember smiled at them before she looked at Brandon. “Brandon, you remember Darcy, and this is Lucien.”

“Hey. Nice to meet you.” He held a chair for Ember before taking a menu and sitting himself.

“The burgers are delicious here.”

Food was the last thing on Darcy’s mind; she absently turned her eyes to her menu, but her thoughts were all on the boy sitting next to her. And then he said softly, “I don’t know how to be a son, but I’m willing to try.”

Darcy’s eyes met his as tears rolled down her cheeks. “That’s all we can ask,” Lucien said. His tone seemed gruff, though Darcy suspected it was because his throat was as choked as hers.

Brandon flashed them a smile that was all Lucien. “Sweet.”

Lucien and Darcy walked just behind Brandon in the open-air colonnade on the Bronx Community College campus as Brandon studied the bronzes of famous Americans. Lucien watched his son, the word feeling strange on his tongue. He was a smart kid and had a love of all things old. Maybe one day, his likeness would be here too.

“I think he’s getting more comfortable with us,” Darcy commented, pulling Lucien from his own thoughts.

He reached for her hand and, when she looked up at him, he leaned over and brushed his lips over hers. “I think so too.”

There was wonder in her voice. “He’s our son. We made him.”

Brandon had stopped at the Benjamin Franklin bronze. “Are you okay, Brandon?” Lucien asked.

“I did a report on Benjamin Franklin in school once. He was a cool dude.”

“Maybe you’d like to take a trip to Philadelphia. We could check out the Franklin Institute, Independence Hall, the Liberty Bell,” Lucien offered.