42. This Is My Los Angeles

Chapter 42

This Is My Los Angeles

Megan

T he vibrant pulse of Los Angeles surrounds me, a hum of energy and excitement. I stand beside Hunter outside the Blue Whiskey, wondering why he’s brought me here, of all places.

His tall, dominant figure seems to cast a shadow even in the night and makes me all too aware of the contrast between his powerful demeanor and my own sense of wonderment. The more time I spend with him, the more in awe of him I become.

“You look beautiful,” he says to me, and I blush.

“You’d probably tell me I was pretty if I was only wearing a trash bag.”

“Have you ever spent the night out enjoying the city we live in?”

I cock my head to the side, not totally understanding the question. “I mean, I’ve gone out with friends.”

“What friends?”

“That’s not nice.”

“I’m serious.”

“Naomi and–”

“And who? Did that the boyfriend of yours from school ever take you anywhere?” he asks with a jealous bite to his tone.

“Obviously not.”

“That’s what I thought.” Hunter captures my hand, his touch reassuring. “Tonight, Megan,” he whispers, a twinkle in his eye, “I’m going to show you my Los Angeles.”

While it’s weird to see Blue Whiskey patrons gawk at us, I feel a flutter of excitement as we settle into the plush limousine that suddenly pulls up in front of the club.

Hunter opens the door for me like a gentleman. “Your chariot awaits.”

“Wait, is that Parker underneath that hat?”

“Hey, Megan.” The driver’s side window lowers, and Parker peeps his head out.

“No one drives me but Parker or Lars. It’s part of how I keep security around me and now you as tight as possible.”

“Of course.”

I’ve never been inside of a limousine before. The buttery, soft leather interior makes me feel like I’m back in the deluxe private plane we took to Paris, gliding us across the streets of the city.

“I stocked the limo with your favorites if you want to snack. Lift that lid right there.”

The limousine has so many compartments that it feels almost like a treasure hunt.

“Ooh, there’s red licorice in here.”

“Yep,” he chuckles.

“What else is there?” I ask eagerly as I open some of the other compartments.

“Check this one,” he tells me, pointing to one at the far side of the limo.

I lift the lid and recognize instantly what’s inside. There’s a square-shaped, light blue box with the word Tiffany embossed and a white ribbon tied around it. I’ve never touched an actual gift from a high-end jeweler, but I’ve seen advertisements for the brand many times.

“What’s this?” I ask softly.

“It’s yours. Open it.”

“I asked for one simple date, not for any of these over-the-top gestures,” I say, suddenly uncomfortable for reasons I don’t even understand myself.

“Everything I do is over the top, Megan. Just open it.”

I untie the ribbon and stuff it in my purse to save. I haven’t received many gifts in my life and don’t want to throw any part of it away, especially because it’s from Hunter.

When I lift the lid, there’s another box inside which I open and find a beautiful, unique bracelet inside that almost takes my breath away. It’s oval-shaped, and one side is gold, and the other side is covered in diamonds.

“This is stunning.”

“Come sit here next to me,” he commands, patting the seat beside him. “It’s called the lock bracelet.” He opens the bracelet and then clicks it in place around my right wrist. “And you should never take it off.”

“Hunter, it’s gorgeous, but this thing is blinding me. Of course, I should take it off. I’m scared to walk around with it on.”

“You’ll be perfectly safe. Promise me you’ll never take it off.”

“But when I paint?”

“That’s why I put it on your right arm. I want you to see it and be reminded of me every time you pick up a paintbrush.”

“Why don’t you pee on me while you’re at it?”

He laughs at my sarcasm as I continue to admire the bracelet. I’ve got to admit, it’s truly a work of art. I’m just not sure that such a pretty piece will go with my closet full of jeans and sweats.

“I think this is a much nicer way to mark my territory, don’t you?”

I admire how the diamonds sparkle under the lights inside the limo. I’m no pro, but I can tell this bracelet must be worth a lot of money.

“How expensive was this, Hunter? I hope you don’t give all of your dates gifts like this. You’ll go bankrupt.”

“Are you going to question the cost of everything we do tonight, Miss Taylor?” He uses an exasperated tone. “Because you know I can afford it, right?”

“Fine.”

“And just so we’re clear, you’re the first woman I’ve ever given a piece of jewelry to.”

“Well, what other presents have you given women?” I ask suspiciously.

“Let me rephrase that. You are the first woman I’ve ever given a gift to, period.”

“How many women were there? The ones that didn’t get gifts.”

“Only you would find a way to be jealous after I’ve given you a diamond bracelet…and a baby.” He pulls me in closer to his body, pulling me by the hips. “Sit closer to me. I missed you.”

I chuckle. “What’s the point of this big car if we’re just going to sit on top of each other?”

“God, I wish you’d sit on me. Maybe it would help you relax.”

“You’re such a pervert.”

“Thank you.” He grins.

“And you’re also a good gift giver for a first-timer,” I quip, staring back at the bracelet. “This is so gorgeous I can’t take my eyes off of it.”

“I’m glad you like it.” He wraps his palm around the back of my neck, pulls me close, and kisses me gently on the lips. “You’re welcome.”

Every corner we turn and every street we pass holds its own magic, and I find myself soaking in the city's allure with wide-eyed fascination.

Just when I thought the night couldn’t be more surprising, our journey takes an unexpected turn. Hunter guides me to a waiting helicopter, his confident grin telling me he has something special in store.

“Before we get on, I just want to make sure that you’re not nauseous,” he checks with worry etched on his forehead.

“I’m fine.”

“And the gunshot wound?”

“All better.”

“Have you ever been on a helicopter before?”

“Aren’t these questions you should have asked before tonight?”

“It wouldn’t have been a surprise then.”

I place a hand on his chest and tilt my head up to meet his eyes.

“I’ve never been on a helicopter before, but I don’t have any motion sickness, and if I hadn’t gotten shot, I wouldn’t even know that I was pregnant right now. So let’s go. I’m excited.”

As the chopper soars above the sprawling city, Hunter points out various landmarks—the glittering coast, the iconic Hollywood sign, and more. Each sight seems more beautiful than the last, the world stretching out beneath us in a breathtaking panorama.

“Los Angeles seems almost magical from this view,” I gush. “Not the same city where you might trip over a body in the alleyway.”

“Yeah, everyone should see it this way. Maybe they’d respect it a little more,” he says.

The helicopter touches down on a secluded rooftop. I gasp when I see a candlelit table set against the backdrop of the city. “I’ve always dreamed of dining beneath the stars,” I murmur, awe-struck.

Hunter pulls out a chair for me, his usually stern face softening. “This is the closest I could get.”

The night creates a whirlwind of emotions for me. What started as a simple date has turned into so much more…almost a statement of some sort. Hunter is making a point and making it well.

I feel myself drawing in closer to Hunter, the city lights below us painting a picture of dreams and possibilities. At one point, he leads me to the edge of the rooftop. The vastness of L.A. spread beneath us, its lights twinkling like distant stars.

“It’s beautiful,” I whisper, feeling a sense of insignificance amidst the grandeur of the night skyline.

Hunter’s voice, soft and sincere, breaks through my reverie. “No more than you.”

And in that moment, amidst the glow of the city, I feel closer to the stars and the man I love more than ever before.

As we sit back at the table, a cool breeze sweeps across the rooftop. Hunter’s hand reaches out, grasping mine. The intensity of his gaze makes my heart race.

“Megan, there’s something I need to tell you,” he says, his voice low and urgent.

I feel a lump form in my throat, unsure of what he’s about to reveal. My immediate thought is that he’s done all of this to let me down easy, to break up with me.

But that doesn’t make sense, Megan. Get a hold of yourself.

“I don’t want any bargains or compromises between us,” he continues, his grip on my hand tightening. “I’m in love with you, and pregnant or not, I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I don’t want you to just move into the penthouse. I want to marry you.”

My breath catches in my chest as his words sink in. The world around us seems to fade away, leaving only the two of us in that moment.

“I love you too, Hunter,” I reply, my voice barely above a whisper. “But I told you I wanted us to take our time.”

“You’ve seen me at my best and my worst. There’s not much more I can show you. You know who I am and what I’m about. If you want to date and be romanced, I will do that for the rest of our lives as a married couple. This is only the beginning.”

His words move me, and I’m unable to keep my tears at bay, but he keeps talking.

“Marriage is a statement to the world that you are mine, and I am yours. It’s a pledge you make to me to love me, and it’s one I make to protect and cherish you. I realize that I’m not speaking from a place of experience, but I know enough of what not to do to make this work. With you, it wouldn’t be work. It would just–”

“Yes,” I say, cutting him off mid-sentence.

“What?”

“Yes, I’ll marry you.”

With a look of pure joy, Hunter leans in and presses his lips to mine. The sensation is electric, sending shivers down my spine. As we pull away, I see the same sense of wonderment in his eyes that drew me to him in the first place. When Hunter looks at me, he sees something about me I don’t even see in myself.

Something worthy of love.

He pulls a smaller Tiffany blue box out of the inside pocket of his leather jacket and hands it to me. It’s the most perfect solitaire diamond ring I’ve ever seen. Simple but brilliant.

He slides it on the ring finger of my left hand, then pulls my hand toward his mouth, kissing the inside of my palm.

“I can’t wait to make you Mrs. Middleton.”

Together, we gaze out over the city as the night stretches on. The stars twinkle above us, a reminder of the infinite possibilities that lay ahead.

Will I continue to paint? Will I become the full-time manager of the club so that I can work near him every day? Or will I become a stay-at-home mother and take care of our son or daughter instead?

But as I look at Hunter, I realize I don’t need all the answers right now. Anything is possible and all things that will be will be as long as we are together.