Page 129 of Bourbon Kingdom
“We will rebuild,” he replied, with that deep dominant voice of his. “We will rebuild and we will thrive, little one, and do you know why?”
“Why?” I asked, while I placed my head on his shoulder and allowed him to stroke my hair with his fingers.
“Because we’re a triple threat. With justice, faith, and power, we will thrive and rebuild. There is no one to stand in our way now. Together, we can do anything. Together, we have the power to accomplish anything.”
“Together?” I asked.
“Together,” he said, while nudging me and lifting my head.
He smiled brightly down at me and his hand opened up and inside was a ring with a large yellow diamond and small little yellow diamonds surrounding it. I gasped and quickly looked up at him to see if he was serious. His smile was devastating as he grabbed my hand and never strayed from my gaze.
“Never in my right mind did I think I would meet such a sassy, gorgeous, foul-mouthed, and kind-hearted woman like you, Goldie, but the moment I saw you in this very spot, tapping your foot to the music running through your ears and drawing my mother’s grave, I knew I had to make you mine. I knew my mom brought us together for a reason. It took me some time to actually accept my fate, to know you were meant for me, to care for my heart, and I’m sorry for all the heartache I put you through, but if you will allow me, if you will so kindly grant me the honor of handing over your heart to me for eternity, then I promise you, I will do everything in my power to guard it. Goldie, will you do me the honor of marrying me?”
My heart beat rapidly in my chest as my eyes wandered from Jett to the ring and then back to Jett. Was he serious?
“Oh, my fuck, kick me in the crotch, this can’t be real! Of course I will marry you. I’m going to marry you so fucking hard.”
Jett shook his head and laughed as I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed the ever-living piss out of him.
Chapter Thirty-Five
“America’s Sweetheart”
GOLDIE
“Stop fidgeting,” Jett whispered in my ear as we walked down a very small red carpet that was full of flashing cameras and shouts from the press covering the rather popular event we were attending.
Turning toward him so the press couldn’t read my lips, I said, “I’m pretty sure I’m going to piss myself.”
Nervously, I gripped my collar, which Jett had so thoughtfully replaced, after the one he originally gave me was caught in the fire. This one matched the diamonds in my ring, showing just how thoughtful the man I loved was.
Chuckling softly, he kissed the top of my head and said, “Don’t be nervous, little one. You deserve this.”
“Mr. Colby, Mr. Colby,” reporters called out, trying to gather his attention. “Is it true you’re engaged? Mr. Colby, do you have time to answer a few questions?”
“Throw them a bone,” I said, while patting his chest, glancing at my ring. It was something I did very often, not because it was a fucking boulder sitting on top of my finger, nope, it was because it was Jett’s mark on me. Once and for all, I was his, forever I would be a Jett Girl.
The day of the fire, I couldn’t even think about it, it still made my skin crawl. It’d been a few weeks, but it still seemed too fresh, seeing the movement on the third floor, thinking it was Jett, not being able to contact him; it all boiled down to the worst moment in my life, next to losing my parents.
After they put out the fire, investigators went in and were able to confirm that Mercy started the fire. She apparently spent a good amount of time dumping gasoline along the front perimeter of the house, making sure to ignite the damn place. She then helped herself inside, through a window she broke, lit the gas on fire, and then trailed her tank throughout the house until she made it to the third floor; she was practically a human blow torch, igniting everything in sight. I’m still shocked the girls and Kace were able to evacuate as quickly as they did with some of their things. Thankfully, Mercy missed the “servant’s quarters” when she was lighting shit up.
Fucking crazy-ass bitch.
It’s scary to think Jett could have been on the top floor, that he could have been trapped, but thanks to one simple phone call from a jeweler, a jeweler I will forever suck dick for, he snuck out the back and went to get my ring. Not even Kace knew about the proposal.
It’s so weird how little things, like a phone call, can save your life, or how something like drawing a gravestone over and over again can bring two helpless souls together.
“Come on,” Jett said, as he pulled on my hand, knocking me out of my thoughts.
I trailed behind him, holding on to his hand tightly as he curtly nodded to a reporter at the end of the pit. Jett adjusted his tie and cleared his throat, “Mr. Cardone, what a pleasure to see you.”
“Mr. Colby,” the man said, while shaking Jett’s hand. “Thank you for coming over here; may I ask you some questions?”
“Of course,” Jett said kindly, as the other reporters crowded around Mr. Cardone, sticking their recorders as close as they could get to have a chance at the little Jett Colby exclusive being conducted.
“Thank you. I promise to be quick. Can you make a statement on the recent engagement rumors?”
“I can,” Jett said proudly, as he pulled my hand up to his lips and kissed my knuckles gently. He looked down at me with the sexiest smile I had ever seen and he said with great pride, “Mr. Cardone, please meet my fiancé, Goldie Bishop, the woman who’s stolen my heart and the talented artist who will be showcased tonight.”
