Page 3 of A Little Valentine's Day Surprise

Not that they had many people coming in and out of their bedroom, and even if they did it would be unlikely for them to look under the bed. But you never knew! Anything could happen.

Her fingers brushed against the soft velvet, and she hesitated. Should she be doing this? Definitely not. But she’d come this far. She couldn’t stop now.

Snatching it up, she sat back on her bottom, clutching the box in her hands. They trembled as she held it in one hand, then slowly pulled the top open with the other.

Her breath hitched.

It was…beautiful.

Perfect.

Exactly what she wanted in an engagement ring.

It was simple. Just a plain silver band and a small oval-shaped aquamarine stone in the center with tiny diamonds surrounding it. Her fingers pinched the delicate band, her need to try it on overriding her better judgment.

“So shiny,” she muttered. “So pretty.” It slid effortlessly out of its little home, and she brought it closer to her face, inspecting it.

It was absolutely perfect. Her throat felt tight as she moved it to her ring finger. She hesitated, not slipping it on just yet. It felt heavy…not the actual weight of it, but the weight of the commitment. Not that she’d ever have second guesses about Jett, but marriage? She’d never imagined herself getting married. She’d never thought anyone would want to marry her.

But here was this perfect man giving her a perfect ring?—

Footsteps sounded from outside the bedroom door, and panic surged through her. Bullfuzzies! The ring nearly fell from her fingertips in the sudden rush of adrenaline coursing through her. She caught it, and slid it back into its rightful place before shoving it back under the bed, making sure it was right where she’d found it.

She jumped onto the bed moments before the door opened. Her chest heaved as she tried to calm her breathing. Heart racing, she beamed up at Jett.

“Hi, Daddy,” she panted, and he paused. He was carrying a tray loaded with—“Is that Nutella?” She stretched her neck, trying to see everything.

“Sit still,” he grumbled. She sat back against the headboard, not looking at Ottie’s judging face, and stretched her legs out in front of her. Excitedly, she wiggled her toes as Jett set the tray over her lap, the legs of it balancing on either side of her.

She peered down at the plates of food. Slightly mushy strawberries cut into weird shapes, a dollop of Nutella beside them, orange juice in her favorite otter cup, and a small mound of scrambled eggs dyed pink with white and red sprinkles on them. Everything but the eggs looked delicious. She couldn’t get past the sprinkles.

Glancing up at him, she smiled brightly. It was like he read her mind, because he rubbed the back of his neck and grimaced. “I accidentally knocked the jar of sprinkles over and it got in the eggs.”

She looked back down at them. “And the pink?”

“I, uh…I added food coloring.” His face flushed, and he roughly cleared his throat. “That was a stupid idea, wasn’t it? I’ll make you regular eggs. Fuck. I’m sorry.”

He reached for the plate and she slapped the back of his hand. “Don’t touch. Mine.” She hovered her body above the tray, snapping her teeth at him. “My weird pink eggs with sprinkles.”

His lips twitched, but he schooled his features and gave her a firm look. “Don’t be selfish, Abbie.”

“It’s not selfish if you’re threatening to take my breakfast from me. It’s just cruel on your part. Cruel and unusual—like these eggs. But they’re mine.”

He scrubbed his hand over his mouth, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “You don’t have to eat them, pretty girl,” he said softly, his voice slightly muffled from behind his hand.

She ignored him as she grabbed her fork and scooped up a giant bite. Her eyes lifted to him and she took a deep breath. “Abbie, you really don’t—” She shoved the eggs into her mouth, and her eye twitched.

It was the weirdest combination of flavors she’d ever had, which was saying something since she tended to eat strange combinations. But this was a different level. It was crunchy, and scrambled eggsdefinitelyshouldn’t be crunchy. And there were random bursts of sweetness, and the food coloring added the weirdest artificial flavor.

“It’s…good,” she said around the food. “Delicious. Best thing in the world.” She forced herself to swallow the mouthful before stabbing a smaller piece. “So good.” She barely held in her gag as she chewed the sweet, crunchy eggs.

“Baby, please stop eating it,” Jett begged. “You look like you’re in pain.”

“I’m not.” She let out a small gag, unable to hold it in.

“Just eat the strawberries?—”

“Why are they mushy?” Did she sound slightly hysterical, or was that in her head?

---