Page 167 of Faking It With My Pucking Protector
“Nothing!” they blurt out together, cheeks flushing bright pink.
I laugh, my hands raised in surrender. “Alright, alright. I won’t ask.”
Jackson joins me then, two cold lemonades in hand. He passes me one, his fingers brushing over mine in that gentle, grounding way that always makes my pulse skip.
“They’re very serious about whatever that is,” I murmur, nodding at the boys.
“Yeah,” he says, his mouth curving into a small, unreadable smile. “They’ve been plotting pretty hard the last couple of days.”
I tilt my head at him. “And you’re not going to tell me anything, huh?”
“Absolutely not,” he says, feigning scandalized offense. “That would violate the top-secret oath I made.”
I snort, leaning into him. He presses a kiss to the side of my head, warm and sure.
Behind us, Miss Taylor starts prepping lunch, shooting me a knowing look that only spikes my curiosity even more.
“You’re all conspiring against me,” I grumble, though I can’t help but smile.
Jackson chuckles softly, sliding an arm around my waist. “Pretty much.”
I lean into him fully, my head tipping back against his shoulder. Whatever they’re up to, I decide to let them enjoy their little conspiracy.
After lunch, Miss Taylor hums softly as she rinses dishes, that same steady rhythm she always has. Every so often, she glances at me with a twinkle in her eye.
“You’re in on it too, aren’t you?” I finally ask, narrowing my eyes.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she says, but her grin gives her away.
I roll my eyes, fighting a laugh. “Traitor.”
She just shrugs, wiping her hands on a towel. “Sometimes surprises are good for the heart.”
Before I can come up with a witty comeback, Jackson pokes his head into the kitchen. “Hey, could you come out back for a second?”
His voice is casual, almosttoocasual. Suspicion flares again, but I follow him anyway.
When I step onto the porch, the boys are standing side by side at the bottom of the steps. Both hold huge poster boards against their chests, faces bright and a little nervous.
Jackson pauses beside me, his hand slipping into mine. His palm is warm and steady, and something in his eyes makes my breath catch before anything even happens.
Noah shifts first, nearly bouncing in place. “Okay, ready?” he calls up to Jackson.
Jackson squeezes my hand once. “Ready.”
The boys flip their signs over at the same time.
Noah’s says in big, shaky letters:Will you marry our Daddy?
Liam’s is covered in bright colors and stars, the words:Say yes!scrawled across the middle.
A stunned sound escapes me—half gasp, half sob.
The entire world goes completely still.
My knees buckle, and I have to curl my fingers around the porch railing to keep from sinking to the ground.
I feel Jackson move beside me, but I can’t tear my eyes off the boys, who are now grinning so hard they look like they might burst.
