Нора Робертс - The Last Boyfriend

She offered it to him. “I want to be your problem, Owen, for the rest of my life.”

“You kept it,” he murmured. Grinning, he started to slide the ring on her finger, but she closed her hand. “Don’t mess with me, Avery. Say yes.”

“Just wait. I don’t have Clare’s—what’s the word?—equanimity, or Hope’s efficiency.”

“Am I asking either of them to marry me?”

“No, and you’d better not. I don’t have your patience, and thank God you’ve got it. I’ll try it a lot—but you already know that.”

“I already do. Say yes.”

“I love you. You’re my friend, my lover, my match.” She smiled now, kissed his cheek. “My first boyfriend is going to be my last boyfriend. Yes.” She held out her hand for the ring. “Absolutely, definitely yes.”

He slid it on. “It fits. Mostly.”

“It was way too big the first time. Looks like it works now.” She climbed into his lap.

“Took you long enough.”

“From where I’m sitting, it took exactly long enough.” She held out her hand, wiggled her fingers. Not sad now. Just happy.

“I’ll get you a real one.” He took her hand, kissed her finger above the pink plastic heart. “You know, a diamond or whatever you want.”

“This is a real one—but I’ll take the diamond. I’ll take you, Owen, and thank God you’ll take me.”

He wrapped her tight and hard. “Avery.” Emotion swamped him as he took her lips. His eventually, he thought, right here in his arms. “Here we are.”

“You and me,” she murmured. “I know what Clare meant now.”

“About what?”

“How she felt right before the wedding. She said she didn’t feel nervous. She felt clear-eyed.” She drew back, framed his face. “So do I. Steady and sure. You’re my eventually, too. Let’s go home, and get started on building.”

He helped her up, and together they switched off lights, locked doors, and walked out hand in hand.

She thought of the key around her neck, and the heart stone she still carried in her bag. And the sweet, silly gum-ball ring on her finger.

Symbols, all of them—of unlocked places, and lasting love.