Page 27 of Drunk Dialing My Enemy

“You can’t switch up your energy like this,” I tell him. “You can’t be hot and cold. Or even hot and lukewarm. Not for a long time. Because I’m still scared this is all a dream. Any second now I’m going to wake up alone in my bed and you’ll be the same old grouchy landlord who tore down my bridge.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” he vows. “And I’m going to rebuild that bridge. Just like I’m going to rebuild what I broke between us. I know I’ve acted weird since I got back from the store…I’m not good at keeping secrets, okay?”

“Why would you be keeping a secret?” The tension in my body returns.

“It’s a good secret,” he says. “I’m still not good at keeping things from people, though.”

“This is killing me, Darren.”

“You know I love you?” he continues. “I’ve loved you since the day I saw you, before I even understood how I felt. I was just a boy then and you were my kid sister’s funny little friend always staying over at our house.”

“I know.”

“But I loved you, Katie. I didn’t get it back then. Then we grew up together and I kissed you on your birthday. When my lips touched yours, I had a vision of all that we could be. And it scared the shit out of me because I’d seen my own family fracture at the hands of my father’s mistakes. And I thought, if that’s the best my father can do, how am I supposed to believe I can do better? Maybe I’ll ruin your life.”

“You wouldn’t do that, Darren.”

“You’re right,” he growls. “I wouldn’t. I know better. I’m the man you need. I’ll protect you and cherish you for the rest of my life if you let me. And that’s why I can hardly look at you, Katie. Because I’ve made up my mind and once I make up my mind about something, I want to take action.”

“By avoiding talking to me?” I ask humorously.

“By doing this.”

He pulls a small box from his pocket and immediately I know what it is. Funnily enough, I’ve never actually seen a ring box in real life. But I’ve watched enough rom coms and Christmas jewelry commercials to recognize it when I see it. It looks comically small in Darren’s oversized hand.

Darren kneels before me.

If this is a dream, it’s the cruelest dream my brain has ever conjured.

“Katie, darlin, firecracker,” he says. “You’ve been my lifelong obsession. My muse in all that I do. My inspiration, the thing that keeps me going. You make me want to be a better man. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want to make your life easier. I want to dry your tears and be the reason you smile. I want to have a family with you, grow old with you, everything. From the bottom of my heart, you would make me the luckiest man alive if you said yes.”

“YES!”

If the store were open today then all of my customers would’ve just heard the loudest, most joyful scream ever.

EPILOGUE

KATIE

“Ouch.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” I assure the seamstress, whose nervous hands seem to be slipping often. I’ve been poked several times with pins. But it doesn’t bother me. I was once a beginner, too.

This dress store is nearly two hours north of Wild Bronco, but it’s the best plus-size wedding dress maker in the country as far as I’m concerned. They’ve got every style, every color, everything you might imagine.

“Why didn’t you ever carry wedding dresses in your store?” Dot asks me curiously.

“Wedding dresses are their whole specialty,” I shake my head. “I like to look at them, but making them? Nah. I’ll stick with the everyday wear and the lingerie.”

“I do like the lingerie,” Dot murmurs.

I nod. Just yesterday, Dot came into my store and practically bought out my entire inventory. Most things for her studio, which is now a boudoir studio exclusively. But I know that several items that she picked out were just for her.

You see, she’s doing her own solo shoot. Self portraits, just for her eyes. It’s such a good idea, I don’t know how it’s taken her this long to do it.

“You know,” I say. “If you ever do get married, you could give your husband an album full of your sexy pictures.”

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