She rolled her eyes. “I didn’t get the job.”
She’d had six interviews since I’d met her and had five rejections so far. This was now her sixth and she seemed to be taking them quite well.
I frowned. “But you’re happy about that?”
“Yes. Honestly, I didn’t want it. I didn’t want to have to do that drive every day.” She wrapped her arms around my waist. “It also takes the pressure off about the Bar. I’m so close, but I need more time to study and if I had to work full time, I’d be distracted. I have enough savings to keep me going for three months, so I’ll—”
“Baby, you’ve got more than three months.”
“I don’t want you to feel like I’m mooching.”
“I don’t think you’re mooching.”
She sighed. “I’d like to help with the mortgage.”
“I get it, but I’d rather you focus on your career,” I said, sliding my hands to her ass and squeezing. “I’ve got something for you.”
“You do?”
I grinned. “I do. But you need to decide whether or not you want it now, or later in the form of a public display of affection.”
“You got my ring back,” she guessed.
“I got your ring back.”
Truth be told, it had been delivered to the jeweler two weeks ago, but I wasn’t happy with the diamond. No, let me rephrase. My mother wasn’t happy with the diamond. She’d come with me to pick it up and insisted I replace it with something better, so I did. It had taken another two weeks to come back, and Tate had been remarkably patient in waiting for it.
“Would you be bummed out if I said I didn’t want a big to-do?”
I chuckled. “Not even a little bit.”
“Oh my god, I’m dying to know which one you picked.”
“Okay, so, now?”
“Now,” she confirmed, and I slid my hand into my pocket and pulled out the ring. Palming it, I leaned down to kiss her before kneeling in front of her. “I love you, Tater. Will you marry me?”
Holding the ring up, she gasped covering her mouth with her hands. “Oh my god, you didn’t!”
“I absolutely did.”
I’d gotten her the ring that made her heart sing, complete with a one-carat oval diamond settled in the center.
She cupped my face, tears sliding down her face. “I love you more than ice cream. Yes, I’ll marry you.”
I grinned, standing, and sliding the ring on her hand and she threw her arms around me. “I do not deserve you.”
I pulled her close, kissing her again, before she leaned against me and held her hand up to the light. “Holy cow, honey, look how it sparkles,” she squeaked.
“You like it, then?”
“I love it. I can’t believe you spent that much money,” she whispered.
“Don’t you worry about that, Tate.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah, I’m sure.” I cuffed her chin. “Quit worryin’ about shit that’s all good.”
