Page 96 of Voice to Raise
Mama’s snort had us turning toward the kitchen. All the band members, Mama, and Pauletta stood watching us.
Heat flooded my cheeks. I forced myself not to look at Lydia with her camera or Mickey who stood just behind her. “You just had to be public.”
“Our relationship hasn’t exactly been a secret.”
“Hell, no.” Creed—always having to stick his nose in it.
“I didn’t want you to feel like you could say no.”
I glared at Malik.
He shrugged. “Hedging my bets?”
“As if all those emails and letters weren’t full of sap and goop. You know I want you. Have practically since the first time we met.”
He chuckled.
As did Mama.
“Will you marry me?” He leaned closer. “Lydia has promised to destroy the video file if you sayno.”
As if.“Yes, I’ll marry you. Sheesh, sometimes you can be a dumbass.”
“For proposing in semi-public or for thinking you might turn me down?”
“Well, frankly, both.” I took his cheeks in my hands and drew him in for a kiss.
“Give him the ring.” Creed—ensuring he played a large part in this.
I pulled back from the embrace. “Ring?”
Malik shrugged. Then he dug into his pocket and pulled out a little ring box. “Will you marry me?” He shoved the box at me without opening it.
Curious, I slowly opened it. The ring appeared to be platinum. “Is that…?
“White gold.” He pulled the ring out of the box. “With Celtic knots. I mean, I tried to think of something British. Or from my culture. I kept coming back to these because they’re like…I dunno…infinity? Something that’ll keep forever.” He grasped my hand and slid the ring onto my right finger. “When we get married, I’m moving that to your left hand. I want everyone to know you’re mine.”
“And what about me?”
Freddie hooted. “Told ya he’d want one to give to you.”
Malik winced.
Mama stepped up to us and handed me a box.
I cocked my head as I met her gaze.
She pointed toward her son.
I opened the ring box and gasped.
The ring was onyx black with the same raised Celtic pattern, only in sapphire blue. A truly unique piece of jewelry that totally matched Malik’s personality. “How…?”
“My son has a big mouth. He found a picture on the internet of one similar to the one Malik bought for you and he hinted strongly you might appreciate my help.”
Creed, in turn, hooted. “Now, can we eat?” Without waiting for a response, he headed toward the kitchen.
Good thing I’d turned the heat in the oven down—otherwise we’d be eating very rubbery chicken.
