Page 162 of The Wingman

There’s something I’ve been wanting to tell him for weeks. I focus hard on trailing my finger over the ridges and lines of his chest.

“I’m ready for a ring. I mean, if you want to. Or, when you’re ready to give me one.”

His eyes spark, but they narrow like he’s confused. “What do you mean?”

“I mean…” I suck in a deep breath. “When you’re ready to give me a ring and take the next step, I’m ready to say yes.”

He scratches his head, making a confused face.

“That thing we talked about at the end of last season?” I widen my eyes and make a gesture between us. “The thing I was super nervous about in the past but am no longer nervous about with you because I love you and want to be with you forever?”

“You want to get a dog?”

“Ask me to marry you!” I burst out. “I’ve been waiting all summer!”

He doubles over, laughing, and my jaw drops in annoyance, but I can’t help but laugh, too. “Hayden. You’re being obtuse on purpose.”

His chest shakes and the smile he gives me warms me from head to toe. “Yes, honey, I know what kind of ring you’re talking about. I’ve had it for months.”

My heart stops. “You have?”

His gaze is soft, patient, and gentle. “Mhm.”

“Where?” I try to get out of bed, but he locks me against him.

“None of your business.”

“Can I have it now?”

“No.” He snorts. “You can wait.”

“But I just said I’m ready.” I make ahurry upmotion. “Let’s go.”

He laughs again. “I’m not going to propose to youhere, Darce. It has to be special. You deserve memorable and special.” He runs his hand through his hair. “Besides, I wanted to check if you’d rather pick your own out. We can go to a store. You can have something designed. You can get whatever you like?—”

“I want whatever you chose for me.” About once a month, Hayden buys me a piece of jewelry. He’s proven to have incredible taste, always selecting pieces that are special and environmentally conscious. I’ve told him a million times that I don’t need it and that he’s spoiling me rotten, but he won’t be deterred.

Spoiling me rotten seems to make Hayden Owens very, very happy, actually, and watching him get what he wants makes me happy, so everyone wins.

He tugs on a lock of my hair. “You want a coffee?”

I stare at him. “How can you be so casual when we just had a monumental conversation?”

“It’s not monumental to me, Darce. It’s been a long time coming, and I’ve been ready.” He slides out of bed and gives my butt a light slap.

I watch him stride out of the room, eyes on his toned ass. “You’re really going to make me wait?”

“Frustrating, isn’t it?” he says in the doorway, amusement in his voice. “Eight years, honey. That’s how long I waited for you.”

A low noise of impatience scrapes out of me and I fall back on the bed.

Hayden just laughs and shakes his head, eyes lit up. “And it was worth it.”

At least a dozen times over the next two weeks, Hayden stops to tie his shoe—in the middle of the street, beside our table when we’re out for dinner, on a little bridge over a creek, even in the shower.

“Those don’t even have shoelaces,” I say when he stops to inspect his slip-on sneakers.

He makes an innocent face. “I thought there was a rock.”

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