Page 23 of Spring Fling
“Well, no.”
She knows I hate the damn things. I wore one when we met last year. I’m wearing the same one tonight. One tie is more than enough for a guy like me.
I give the box a light shake. It doesn’t make a sound. “Is it tickets to something?”
Her brow furrows thoughtfully. “Do people still print tickets for things?”
“I would print tickets for things.”
“You also write texts like you’re a Civil War soldier sending a letter home.” She clears her throat and lowers her voice. “My dearest Angela. It has rained for two days complete. I know not when I shall ever traipse the wilderness again.”
I can feel my ears turning red. “I don’t remember ever using the work traipse or the phrase ‘two days complete.’”
“You might as well.” She leans forward and rests her chin on her fist. “You do usually address me as ‘My love.’”
“I thought you liked that.”
“I love it.” Her lips curl up in that teasing way of hers. It makes me want to kiss her. “Go on. Open it.”
Casting her one more look, I pull the ribbon loose and lift the lid. My eyes widen.
I raise my gaze again. “Are these…?”
“Yep.” She shifts in her seat. “I thought I’d save you the trouble of telling me to take them off this time.”
I stare back down at the lacy panties in the box. “Woman, are you trying to kill me?”
A laugh bubbles out of her. I wonder if she would still be laughing if she knew how close I was to bending her over the table and fucking her right here in the middle of the restaurant.
Honestly? She probably would.
She’s playful. The box in my hands is proof enough of that.
“Don’t worry.” She rests her hand on my wrist. “I got you something else.”
“Unless it’s you naked in our bed, I can’t see how it could top this.”
“Well, you’ll get that too. But I also got you that chainsaw you’ve been eyeing.”
My heart hitches. This woman knows me better than anyone else ever has.
Clearing a lump from my throat, I reach into my suit’s pocket. “Ready for your present?”
She lifts her shoulders in excitement, inadvertently pressing her breasts together. “Yes, please.”
Swallowing hard again, I nod to Angela’s bartender friend, who has been waiting to the side. She motions to the guy circling the restaurant playing the violin and the server rolls out a cart with a bottle of Prosecco on ice.
Ignoring the jitters in my stomach, I turn my hand over to capture hers.
“I don’t know if it’s possible to top the promise of you naked in our bed and a chainsaw, but here goes.” I take a deep breath. “One year ago, we both had different expectations of what our Valentine’s Days would hold.”
She smirks. “I’ll say.”
“It may have been an… unusual start. But I like to think we both found what we wanted and more.” I have to clear my throat again. Damn it, I’m never going to get through these. Even though I practiced this twenty times in the mirror. “You’ve shown me to expected the unexpected. You’ve taught me to pause and have fun. You’ve proven that we all deserve a second chance. Even me.”
My cheek twitches. “Most of all, you’ve shown me how good love and life can be. Especially when you’re sharing them with the right person.”
The server and violinist appear table-side as I pull out the small velvet box that has been weighing down my pocket. Suddenly catching on to what’s happening, Angela sucks in a breath and gapes at me, her eyes filling with tears.
“My dearest, my love, will you be mine? Forever?”
A tear slips down her cheek and she nods. “Forever.”
People applaud around us. But I don’t notice them, or the violinist and server, or even Heidi cheering loudly. I only have eyes and ears for the woman who has promised to be mine.
God knows, I’ll always be hers.
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