Page 97 of Hart Breaker

Riley walks in, wearing her cream cable knit sweater dress that she wore to the Christmas party at the Brewery for all the locals. It was a huge success, and I got my bartender cherry popped. I’m not gonna lie, I loved being back there and foresee myself spending a lot of my off-time working beside her.

“You started a fire and turned on the lights.”

“I did.”

“Do you think she’ll love it?” she asks, looking around the living room, which we barely use; the family room is more our speed.

“Of course, she will. No one does Christmas like you.”

“Not true. Wait till you see your mom’s place; she and my mom have been …” She turns and looks at me, down on one knee. “Oh. Oh, so we’re doing this?” She holds her hand over her belly and looks like she may get sick.

I nod, and she nods back, tears filling her eyes.

“I love you so much, Riley Mae Brooks.”

She sniffs and continues to nod.

“There is no one else I want to spend the rest of my life with.”

She’s still nodding. It’s adorable.

“I have adored you since we officially met and will cherish you for an eternity. Will you marry me?”

Her nods become more exaggerated, and I laugh as I open the box to take out the ring, but when I reach for her hand, she takes off running—fucking running—with two pups chasing behind her.

I get up and take my time, making my way to her, because she clearly needs a minute, and then I hear her getting sick.

“Fuuuck,” I grumble as I hurry to the kitchen and find her hanging over the garbage bin.

“Get … them away,” she pants then throws up again.

They are at her feet, sniffing as they try to get to the vomit.

“Major, Bossy, that ain’t gonna fly.” I grab their collars, walk them to the area penned off in the dining room that we never use and is now basically their room, and then hurry back to her.

I grab a wad of paper towels and a bottle of ginger ale that I tucked in the fridge two weeks ago then walk over to where my fiancée is folded over the counter.

Unfortunately, she catches me checking out her ass and groans, “You have issues.”

I take the ring from my pocket and hoist myself up to sit beside her, push her hair out of her face, and admit, “I do.” Then I take her hand and slide the ring on it. “Issue resolved.”

She smiles just a little. “It’s beautiful.”

“I’m glad you said that because I was reading the play, and that’s not how I took it.”

“I’m sorry I ruined your proposal,” she says, still panting.

“You didn’t ruin anything.” I lean down and kiss her cheek.

“Don’t,” she whines. “I’m gross.”

I move to lie on my side, propping my head up on my hand. “I love you, Riley Mae Brooks.”

“That’s a really good thing.” She sighs and looks at me. “Aren’t you going to ask me if I’m okay?”

“Why would I ask the most perfect woman in the world if she was okay?”

She squints her eyes shut, and a tear trickles down her cheek. I kiss it away.

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