Page 70 of Pucks and Likes

“I’m not, I swear. It’s just—” She pauses, and she presses her lips together. “I’ve decided I can’t let you go.”

“Whether you’ve decided or not, I wasn’t letting you go,” I tell her simply as I kiss her nose.

“Do you mean that? I think I’m gonna try to talk Peepaw into letting me work remote as an apology for saying I couldn’t be with you and work for him.”

“I am a huge fan of that idea, but like I told you from the beginning, we’ll take things one day at a time.”

Her eyes sparkle. “Thank you.”

“Ah, Elliot, come on. You know you’re as much mine as I am yours.”

Her lips quirk as the song changes to “Lo Que Pasó, Pasó” by Daddy Yankee. We dance, our laughter and grins unstoppable as I move her around me and hold her close to me with no intention of letting anyone else touch her. I feel eyes on us as I nuzzle my face in her neck, holding our son as peace falls over me. I could stay like this for the rest of my life. Elliot in my arms, my son in her belly, and the soul-deep feeling of pure joy. I’ve never been this happy, this complete, and it’s all because of her.

Elliot threads our fingers together, and I bring her hand up to kiss the back of it as our hips move. Against her ear, I ask, “You know what would look good on this hand?”

“A few of those steak tacos?”

My shoulders drop, and I can’t help but laugh. I feel my mom watching me, and I meet her gaze. “Ma, she’s always hungry!” I yell.

“She’s growing your baby. You feed my mija!” she yells back as everyone laughs, and I roll my eyes until I notice Elliot looking up at me in confusion.

“What? I thought you wanted tacos too.”

“I do,” I say, still chucking. I squeeze her hand before pointing to her ring finger. “I was talking about what I thought would look good right here.”

Her eyes sparkle as those lips curve up in a sneaky grin. “A taco could fit there.”

I narrow my gaze, and she sputters with laughter. I cuddle her closer, kissing her lips with all the love I feel flowing through me. She cups my face, deepening the kiss, and everything fades away as I’m fully engrossed in this girl. Like it always does.

When she pulls back, I bring her hand up, kissing each fingertip, her palm, and then her knuckles. “Or my ring.”

Her eyes dance with mine as she swallows. “Are you sure?”

“I’ve been sure,” I say, moving my other hand from her belly to my back pocket for my wallet. I let go of her hand as she watches me open my wallet, sliding out a little white velvet pouch. I didn’t want a ring box since I wasn’t sure when I would get her to agree to marry me. I wanted the ring on my person at all times, and this was the best way. Before I can open the pouch, though, she covers it with her hand.

“Maybe we should wait,” she suggests, and I hold her gaze.

“For?”

“I need to tell you something.”

I search her gaze. “Do you plan on taking it off after I put it on and you tell me what you’ve got to tell me?”

“No, but you might want it back.”

I scoff, opening the pouch and holding up the gold band with a single two-carat heart-shaped diamond. Her eyes widen, tears spilling over, as she gawks up at me. I kiss her ring finger then slide the ring down it. I look into her eyes and, in Spanish, I whisper, “I’ll never ask for it back. It’s yours if you’ll have me as yours.”

Her lip quivers before she whispers, “Alex…”

“Be my wife.”

She nods slowly and then whispers, “You’re mine.”

“Yes, mami. I am.”

“And I’m yours.”

“Forever,” I tell her, meaning every single syllable that leaves my lips.

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