Page 80 of Charlie Takes a Chance

She frowns but pushes the door open slowly. She gasps.

I grin when I see what she sees.

An eight-week-old Australian shepherd puppy is sitting in the middle of the mudroom with a large bow wrapped around his neck while he chews on my boot.

“What is that?” Charlie asks breathlessly as the puppy jumps up and wags its tail excitedly.

“It’s a dog,” I croak out as Charlie drops to her knees and reaches out her arms. “It’s your dog.”

Charlie shrieks with laughter as the dog clambers into her lap, trying to lick her face. “Oh, Max! Max, he’s perfect! Are you serious?”

“Pretty darn.”

Charlie jumps to her feet, tucks the puppy under one arm, and nearly knocks me to the ground as she throws her other arm around me, pulling me into a bear hug and practically climbing me.

“Perfect. He’s absolutely perfect.”

I wrap an arm around her waist and lift her up so I can plant a kiss on her lips. “You deserve a dog.”

She has glazed eyes as she pulls back. “This is the sweetest, most thoughtful thing someone has ever done for me.”

I clear my throat and try to talk, but nothing is cooperating. The pup leans up and licks my chin.

“Whoa now,” Charlie says as she scratches him under his chin. “Max doesn’t like to get licked on the face—by dogs, that is.”

She cackles with laughter when I reach out to tickle her ribs for that dirty comment. “You can’t tickle me while I’m holding a baby!”

She clutches the dog to her chest like it will protect her from me.

I watch as her eyes widen, and her fingers move back and forth around the dog collar.

She keeps her eyes locked on mine as she continues fingering the object tied to the collar. “Max!” she yelps. “Max! What is it? I’m scared to look.”

“If you’re too scared to look, I’ll take it off, and you won’t have to. If you’re not ready for it, I’ll take it and pretend like this never happened.”

“Don’t you even dare,” she gasps.

She drops to the ground, setting the dog down and fumbling with the collar.

After a brief struggle, Charlie stands up on shaky legs, holding the princess-cut diamond ring between her index finger and thumb.

“What is this? Are you serious?”

I nod once. “I wasn’t kidding when I said I didn’t want to be apart from you. And I know you weren’t joking when you said you wouldn’t live with someone unless you were married to them. I figured this was the most reasonable solution. We spend the rest of our lives together—married.”

Charlie throws back her head and laughs as she stumbles toward me. “Max St. James, that was the most unromantic proposal…”

I shift uncomfortably as her hands land on my shoulders. “Well, I could try again.” I drop to the ground on one knee.

“Charlie Baxter, will you do me the honor of—” I reach for her hand, only to find that she’s already wearing the ring on her finger.

Dammit, I’m gonna cry. I look up at her and find that she’s already beat me to it.

“You better stop it. I’m a sympathetic crier,” I mutter as she plants both hands on either side of my face.

“Too bad. I’m a happy crier.” Charlie sits down on my raised knee, wraps her arms around me, and leans in for a kiss.

Her lips are soft and perfect, and I’ll gladly stay here all day, even if my leg gets frozen in this position.

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