Page 67 of Marcus-stiltskin

“After these past few weeks,” he says, looking down at my hands, “I’ve realized that I could really live the rest of my life without changing another diaper. I really don’t think kids are for me.”

I stare at him for a long minute then start to laugh. “Oh, thank god. I haven’t ever wanted to be more than an auntie, but those clurichaun babies put me over the edge. I think I lost every single maternal instinct I might have had in just those few minutes.”

“How many times do you think the baby will bite Zander after it’s born?”

“Hopefully a million,” I say before I catch myself. I slap my hand over my mouth, guiltily.

“What?” Marcus asks.

“A witch really shouldn’t wish ill on others and not expect it to come back.”

He laughs. “I think the universe will forgive you this time.”

We fall into silence as our eyes meet. He clears his throat and brushes the hair from my face. “So, uh, back to the whole permanent thing…you think you’re up for it?”

My heart begins to pound in my chest.

“Is this your way of proposing?”

“Well, I can’t exactly get down on one knee, but I have this.” He pulls a box from his pocket and opens it up. Inside is an honest-to-god engagement ring. How he’s arranged that without me knowing, I have no clue. I take it from the box and stare at it, unbelieving for a moment. Fifteen-year-old me would be dying right now. The ring is breathtaking.

“You’re not afraid? I mean, I’m officially unemployed and it’s so soon. What if you get tired of all the fires?” I ask, playing with the ring.

“And what if you get tired of all the donkeys?”

I snort. “Willow would never let me go.”

“Look, I know this is a new thing, but it’s not like we met a few weeks ago. I was going to wait for Christmas and make a nice dinner, but the jeweler told me it was ready and I thought I could save it. But it’s been burning a hole in my pocket.” His words come out in a rush.

“Burning a hole in your pocket, eh?” I repeat, eyebrows raised.

He laughs. “That was unintentional.”

I stare down at the ring for a long moment.

“So what do you say? You’re killing me here.”

“Say about what?” I ask, innocently. “I haven’t been asked a question.”

He shakes his head. “Woman.”

“Man.”

He sucks in a deep breath. “Sarah, I love you. Will you marry me?”

“I love you, too.” I pause and look down at the ring before slipping it on. “It’s what fifteen-year-old me would have wanted.”

“And twenty-seven-year-old you?”

I smile up at him. “She’ll give it a shot.” He practically growls as he pulls me to his chest and kisses me hard on the lips.

“I didn’t mess up your dream, did I?” he asks once he releases me.

“Dream?”

“You know, in your diary, about us.”

I snort. “I–” I start to reassure him he didn’t, only to realize I never even wrote about an engagement or a proposal. “I don’t even think I dreamed about this, I just went straight to sex and the wedding.”

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