“No.” I put down my paintbrush and hold my green paint stained hands out to him. “Help me up a minute?” It’s easier these days to have assistance standing up.
“Sure,” he says, at my service straight away. “What do you need?”
Once I’m up, I keep hold of his hands and slowly, clumsily ease myself into a kneeling position, because there’s only one way to do this properly.
He laughs, puzzled. “Whatareyou doing, woman?”
“Something I should have done a long time ago,” I say, finding my centre of gravity and balancing accordingly. He looks down at me with all the love and tenderness I know he has for me, and my eyes fill. Damn hormones. But I’d defy anyone not to get misty, considering what I’m about to do.
“Hey,” he says with gentle concern, brushing a tear from my cheek with his thumb, still not twigging what my plan is, “what’s up, pretty lady?”
“I just…” I sniff loudly, looking up at the ceiling as I try to get control of myself. I’m struggling to find the words, and I doubt I can come up with something cool and poetic any time soon, so I decide to keep it simple. “I love you.”
He goes stock still, his eyes wider than I’ve ever seen them.
“I do, and I’m…so sorry that it took me so long to get here, but…” I take a deep breath, trying to calm my racing heart. “But I’m not going to fuck about anymore, and…” One more deep breath in a vain attempt to steady my nerves, and I go for it. “Hey, listen, will you marry me, Leo?”
He lets out a cough like he’s been jabbed in the side, and for a long moment he stares into my eyes. “I’m…” He clears his throat, his voice sounding thick. “I’m sorry, I’m gonna need you to say it again.” His eyes are shining with something that looks suspiciously like joy.
I smile through my tears. “Will you marry me, Leopold Beaudoin Gastright Mills?”
“No, not that…” He coughs again, a grin spreading out over his face. “Although that’s pretty great, too. But I meant the other thing.”
Oh.Understanding dawns, and my face softens. “I love you.”
His eyes close as if he’s savouring the moment, and then he lets go of my hands and walks out of the room.
I laugh in surprise. “That’s…not the response I was hoping for,” I call after him.
“I’ll just be a second,” he shouts back, and indeed, in a matter of a few seconds, he returns to the room.
And there’s a blue velvet ring box in his hand.
I gasp with laughter as he kneels in front of me and opens it, showing the most gorgeous engagement ring. It’s a cluster ofsparkling diamonds on a thin gold band, chic and antique. “I was gonna ask, but you beat me to the punch,” he murmurs, his face alight with delight.
“Great minds…” I wipe my eyes. “So, who’s proposing to who here?”
“I have the ring.”
“Yeah, well, I asked first,” I retort, feeling every part of me light up like a disco ball, and he pulls me into his arms, murmuring into my hair how much he loves me.
“Are we really arguing about who gets to propose to who, or am I dreaming?” he laughs.
“You bet your arse we are.” How veryus.
“So, my answer is yes,” he says in a tear-cracked voice, pulling back and cupping my face. “And given thatyouaskedme, I’m guessing you’re good with me putting this ring on your finger?”
“No shit, Sherlock,” I tease, and he does exactly that. It fits well enough, but I bet I’ll need it resized after the baby comes. “Where did you get this?”
“Same time Dean bought Liaden’s ring, in one of the antique shops we went to. I was planning on asking once the peanut was born, but hey, let’s just do it.”
“Yeah?” I can’t stop looking at the ring. It’s better than anything I could ever have found or chosen for myself, classic but not run of the mill. And the diamonds look flawless.
“Yeah. Fuck long engagements. How soon can we get hitched, do you think?”
I grin. “I’m not sure. Guess you’ll have to find out.”
“Challenge accepted.”
