Page 112 of Alfie: Part Two

He tossed me a soft smirk over his shoulder before pushing the door open. “I didn’t rent it.”

Whoa. Was he saying he’d bought it?

No fucking way.

He stopped in the doorway, and his smirk turned a little devious. “By the way, I paid in cash with Shan’s help. Your cash. And then transferred the amount to our joint account. So consider that money laundered.”

I lit up like a Christmas tree. “You absolute criminal, I’ve never loved you more.”

He chuckled and tugged me inside the tiny entryway. He flicked on the lights too, and I was utterly fucking charmed.

The place smelled like paint, so it must’ve been fixed up recently. You could still tell the house had a lot of history, but I did appreciate walls that didn’t have paint chipping off.

He opened the door to our left, revealing a small bathroom.

“There’s one upstairs too,” he murmured.

Next, the kitchen to the right. I shrugged out of my jacket and kicked off my shoes.

The floorboards creaked underneath my feet.

Small, cozy kitchen with a wooden countertop, gas stove, green-painted cupboards, modest fridge and freezer, and a round table that seated two. Someone had placed two flowerpots in the window, possibly the real estate agent since they were new.

At the back of the house was a living room, unfurnished aside from a rocking chair in the corner.

“I know what we can buy in Cork if we go there,” West said.

I couldn’t fucking believe him.

“When did this happen?” I asked.

“Just a few weeks ago, but I got the keys this morning,” he replied. “I went ahead and had beds delivered, though. We have everything we need upstairs so we can move in tonight. Shan and Emilia orchestrated it. Beds, linens, some toiletries. There are three small bedrooms.”

Oh yeah, we were doing that. I didn’t care it was almost eleven PM; this was where we were sleeping tonight, the whole family.

A rush of emotions washed over me, and I just shook my head and pinched my lips together. Could I propose? I needed to propose. I’d promised to leave it up to him, but I had nothing else to show him how much I fucking loved him.

“Is my little mobster speechless?” He closed the distance between us and smiled as he brushed his lips to mine. “Let’s create new memories here.”

New memories.

That was fucking it. That was a sign. I knew which memory we could create right now.

Heat rose to the surface, and I fidgeted with the collar of his shirt as I kissed him back.

“Can you please just fucking marry me already?” I blurted out.

Splendid. Well fucking done.

Oh God. He froze, and I was a goddamn idiot. I had to solve this somehow. He deserved a better proposal! I wasn’t even down on one knee—oh shit. Yeah. So I promptly dropped to one knee, and I clutched his hand.

“Yeah, that coulda been a lot smoother,” I said. Was I fucking blushing? My ears felt hot, my face felt hot, I felt hot. “I just—I don’t wanna wait until you drop another grand-gesture bomb on my unprepared ass, because I can’t fucking measure up in that department?—”

“Okay, that’s enough.” His voice was gentle but firm, and he’d recovered from his frozen state. “Alfie, you measure up every single day. Every time you research a new dinner spot, you do so with me in mind. Every time you remind me to put on sunscreen, you measure up. The texts you send me in the middle of the day show me how often I’m on your mind. How much you’ve opened up and how much you share with me reveal that you always want me on the inside of things. You measure up whenever you send cannoli to my office and make sure my car is washed once a month.” He tugged my hand, and I swallowed hard and rose to my feet again. “You make my life so much easier, baby. All those little things that you do on a daily basis…? They’re each a grand gesture to me.”

I rubbed my forehead and let out a breath. Funny how he just took all the anxiety away. But that was who he was, wasn’t it? He’d always had that effect on me.

“Now, I…” He released a breath too, and he cleared his throat. “I don’t know what to do about your proposal?—”

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