“Me either,” I deadpan while Josie Mae coughs loudly into the crook of her elbow.
“So, I made some calls and snuck around behind this one’s back.” Dallas grins at me, and I can’t tamp my amusement down. He’s enjoying himself way too much. I just hope Charlene and Norinne mistake my mirth for a lovesick rapt expression.
“You sneaky devil, you.” I reach up and pinch his cheek as I egg him on, barely holding it together.
“And?” Charlene might actually pee her pants.
“Well, naturally, I made up some excuse to get her in my truck and then pretended I forgot I had an extra errand to run.”
“Clever,” Norinne throws in her two cents, but Charlene shushes her.
Dallas gazes down at me, that permanent twinkle in his eyes practically blinding me. “You should have seen Shelby’s expression when we got to our destination.”
When he doesn’t elaborate, Charlene shouts so loud we get the attention of several nearby tables. “Where did you take her?!” When she realizes she’s drawn a small crowd, she lowers her voice again. “Honestly, Dallas, you’re a slower storyteller than a toothless drunk man.”
I start to laugh until I realize her attention has shifted to me. “You tell it, Shelby. Where did he take you?”
My jaw locks, and I flash a panicked look at Dallas. But if I thought he’d come to my rescue, his shit-eating grin disabuses me of that notion right quick. Similar glances to Frankie, Skye, and Josie Mae yield nothing better.
In fact, Jo mirrors Skye’s pose and asks, “Yeah, Shelby. Where did he take you?” I’m going to strangle her.
I realize now I have to make this believable. Where would Dallas Gamble take a woman to propose? Not that it would ever happen, but if it did…
“To the swimming hole at Beaver Hollow Falls, of course. What better place to propose than where everyone in town goes to park and make out?”
When all of their faces fall, I know I’ve miscalculated, so I quickly add, “But it was super romantic. He packed some of those plastic champagne flutes and a nice bottle of bubbly.” My smile is brittle, I just know it.
Dallas’s arm tightens around me, and he pulls me back into his chest with a chuckle. “She’s just kidding, y’all.”
Relieved sighs reverberate around the table and nearby crowd. Even my three so-called friends let out loud exhales. What the fuck is wrong with them? They know this is all bullshit!
Dallas doesn’t pause for long, extending his free hand to sweep through the air like he’s setting a dramatic scene. Good gravy. “The sun was low in the sky as we pulled up to this empty field outside Oklahoma City. And there, in the middle of nothing, was a turquoise hot air balloon resting on the grass.” I freeze because this is the furthest thing from what I expected him to say. In fact, this exact proposal scene is on one of my Pinterest boards. “Shelby’s always wanted to ride in one of those. She almost started crying, didn’t you, Sweetness?”
Since his smile is smug, I smile back, but I also pinch his thigh real hard. He swallows a yelp and carries on.
“So, the guy took us up, and we floated around and took in the scenery. You wouldn’t believe how quiet and peaceful it is up there. Shelby was ooohing and ahhhing all over the place, not that I blame her.”
I chance a glance at Charlene, and she looks like Dallas just found her G-spot.
“And just as we passed over a gorgeous lake, I dropped to one knee and popped the question.”
A round of “Awws” echoes through the bar, and again, my idiot friends follow suit, all three of them looking like they just watched the end of a super fucking fantastic Hallmark movie. Charlene’s even wiping away a tear.
“I just knew you were a romantic at heart, Dallas Gamble,” Norinne gushes.
Since I’ve said nothing, and I don’t want to sound like some ungrateful bridezilla, I add, “Yeah, it wassoromantic, y’all. And the champagne glasses were even real!”
Apparently taking that as their cue, people start swarming me with hugs. But, once again, Dallas comes to the rescue, extending a hand and pulling me up from my stool.
It’s only then I realize the band just started playing “How Country Feels” by Randy Houser, taking my smile from fake to full-blown.
“I requested it special,” Dallas says loud enough for everyone to hear. Cue another round of swooning.
This is our song. Not in the romantic way couples have “their song,” but in a way that’s all about shared memories and a whole lot of fun times together. The clingy crowd fades away, and I let Dallas lead me to the dance floor.
“Well, aren’t you the Nora Roberts of fake proposals?” I comment when we’re out of earshot.
Dallas shuffles me to an open spot on the floor, hands framing my shoulders from behind. “I don’t know who that is, but hell yeah.”
