Birdee shrugged. “I have no idea. But I’m not one to look a gift horse in the mouth.”
I wasn’t either, but still.
My luck wasn’t that good.
There was something fishy, and I would have to get to the bottom of it.
But in the meantime, I had a crowd of people to wow with my culinary skills, and I found that I was super excited to do it.
So I cooked.
We ate.
We had a great time.
And I forgot.
I forgot that I was supposed to be questioning my happiness.
It was hard to see the bad when you were surrounded by so much good.
“Are you happy, baby?” Romeo asked hours later as we watched the last of our friends leave into the gently falling snow.
I looked up at Romeo and whispered, “I’ve never been so happy in my life.”
His lips softly brushed mine, once. Twice. Three times.
“Hey, Romeo?”
“Yeah, darling?”
“Take me to bed. I’m dying for you.”
He growled, but did just that.
He took me to my bed.
He stripped us both completely naked.
Then he made the sweetest, most beautiful love to me.
When he was done, and I was once again cleaned up and curled into his arms, he asked into the dark, “Will you marry me, Mable? Will you let me get rid of that awful last name and give you mine?”
“But is it your last name, Romeo?” I tittered.
He squeezed me tight. “It is if I say it is.”
I giggled. “I guess I could marry you.”
“You guess?” he asked, his fingers sneaking up my sides.
I was already laughing by the time he reached my armpits and started tickling.
“Yes! I guess!” I said through the laughter. “I’ll marry you!”
He stopped and smashed his mouth to my own. “When?”
“Whenever you want,” I teased. “As long as it’s warm outside when it happens. Winter is depressing.”
