Page 81 of The Prince and the Puck
“I believe the purpose of the wrapping paper is to hide that very thing,” I said playfully. “If I wanted you to know, I wouldn’t have wrapped it.”
Lizzy whacked me with the back of her hand gently, and then began unwrapping the box. She pushed the paper aside and lifted the lid, and I couldn’t help bouncing just a tiny bit on the couch in my anticipation.
“You got me a jersey?” she asked, wrinkling her nose at me. “I don’t think they’ll let me join the team, Declan.”
“It’s not your jersey,” I explained. “It’s mine. Turn it over.”
She did. It had my name on the back over my number. “I think it’s a bit small for you.”
“Lizzy, I can’t think of anything that would make me happier at the games than to see you wearing my jersey, cheering me on. And then everyone else there will know you belong to me.”
“Possessive much?” She laughed at my fierce tone.
“Of you? Hell, yes. Which is why you need to open box number two now.”
She dropped the jersey to her lap and picked up the smaller box, opening it so painfully slowly I almost snatched it from her hands to help. But this moment, I knew, would be worth the wait.
Lizzy gasped when she opened the little black box, revealing my grandmother’s diamond engagement ring and matched wedding band inside. “Oh my gosh, these are beautiful.”
“I know we’re doing it a little backward,” I said. “Mom gave them to me before we left the second time. I had them sized for you.”
Tears stood in Lizzy’s eyes, and I felt pretty close to crying with joy myself. “Will you put them on? Wear them?”
She nodded and eagerly removed the rings, slipping them onto her ring finger. “They fit perfectly,” she said, her voice full of awe. “I love them so much,” she said, looking up at me. “And I love you so much.”
Lizzy climbed into my lap and proceeded to show me exactly how much while wearing my jersey and my ring and nothing else.
CHAPTER 42
LIZZY
WOMBATS ARE REALLY THE BEST.
My life had changed so dramaticallyin such a short time that once we were back in Virginia, back into a bit of a rhythm, I felt a little whiplash.
"Whiplash?" Drea asked, frowning at me across the table at the Teakhouse Tavern, where I’d been invited to meet up with the WAGs for drinks.
(I’d had to ask, but I was informed that WAG meant Wife and Girlfriend and was told that if I hadn’t been so busy all the time when I’d been here before, this would have happened much sooner.)
"Yes, you know, from everything shifting directions so fast," I explained.
Clara lifted her wine glass and grinned at me. "To whiplash, then. You sure look happy."
Joey joined in, and we all toasted as their smiles added to the warm feeling of belonging I’d been experiencing since coming back to Virginia.
"I am happy," I confessed. "Happier than I ever thought I could be, actually."
"I can’t believe you’re a princess," Joey said, bumping my shoulder. "I feel like it’s wrong to just sit here drinking withyou in a bar. Maybe we should be having tea sandwiches or something instead. Something fancier."
"Tea sandwiches?" Drea asked, wrinkling her nose at Joey.
"Like cucumber sandwiches. Or Vegemite or whatever."
"Vegemite is not fancy," Clara said. "It’s vile."
"Agree to disagree," I said. "I actually really like it."
"You should try it, actually, Joey, now that you’re such an Aussie-phile," I added.
