Gilded Lily (Bennet Brothers, #2)

by Staci Hart

“Luke starts them. I’m the one who finishes them,” I noted. “Because you cheat,” Luke added. “Cheat or outmaneuver?” I asked. “Cheat,” Luke and Jett said at the same time.

“No. You could be a Gallic warrior or a Viking king or a cowboy. Brutish and wild, untamed. Size alone warrants the impossibility that you live in this time and not somewhere long ago, ruled by survival.”

“Hate’s just as strong a word as passion. I don’t hate much of anything.”

“No, I like both of those. I’m like a raccoon—I’ll eat pretty much anything.”

For the first time in my life, I wished I was something else. Something more. Ambitious and successful and rich. Powerful. I wished I was the kind of man Lila wouldn’t just fuck. I wished I was the kind of man she’d keep.

“Lilac? You’re kidding.” “I’m not. Some just taste like nothing. Some taste … green. I don’t know how else to describe it. But some taste exactly like lilac smells, and it’s utter heaven.” “That’s my name,” I said, suddenly sheepish at the admission.

“You just put that little flower in the home it’ll know its whole life. So I’d wager it appreciates your effort.”

“Thank you,” I said quietly, from the very depths of my heart. Because that moment of truth was upon me, and I wouldn’t waste it. “For what?” he asked honestly. As if everything he gave wasn’t a gift and privilege. “For this. For everything.”

Slowly, I moved toward him, taking in every detail. He stood before a shelf of lilies, the lilies I’d admired in his little greenhouse on the roof. But one stood apart from the rest at his side, its blooms opening to reveal lilies the color of marigold, speckled with golden flecks. It was the strain he’d been working toward for so long. He’d done it.

“All my life, I’ve worked at putting two things together to make one. At a glance, they seem so different, from petal to leaf, from texture to color. But somehow, they not only work. They thrive. They don’t care whether they’re different or the same—they come together and make something new, something unexpected. All this time, I’ve bred flowers to wash away their differences, and all this time, I’ve cataloged ours. But what I didn’t count on was that it wouldn’t matter to you any more than it would to a lily. And it shouldn’t have mattered to me at all.”

“There are so many things I wish I’d done differently, so many things I wish I’d said. But more than anything, I wish I’d realized just how much I love you.”

“Arches and doorways have their own magic, their own mystery. Moving through them, standing beneath them, we are in the in-between, the twilight, the passage. There’s an unspoken danger, the threat of being lost or forgotten. It’s why a husband carries his bride over the threshold—so he can protect her from any harm, any pain. It’s all I want—to shelter you from harm, to give you the happiness you’ve given me. I want to step into that life with you. Because together, we can survive anything. I promise to carry you through life, to comfort and protect you. To keep you safe. You asked me once what my passion was, and I’ve finally found it. It’s you.” He lowered to one knee, stopping my heart. “Will you marry me, Lila?”