I’d say twenty-eight years was long enough.
That’s why I wanted to revisit our talk about kids. Taran was now in the high-risk category for pregnancy, and we wanted a family together. I think we needed to get started on that sooner rather than later. So … wedding first, then baby. Fingers crossed, anyway.
“What?” My soon-to-be fiancée mouthed.
I shrugged and murmured, “Just happy.”
She beamed, which told me she’d lipread me correctly.
“Okay, let’s dig into this delicious pudding. It smells amazing, darling,” Mum called loudly down the table to me.
“Good.”
“We didn’t do a toast before we dug into the food.” Cammie raised her half-empty wineglass, grinning as she looked around the table. “To Quinn and Taran, for battling through an epic love story so they could provide us with this excellent Christmas table!”
“Aye, that’s why we did it, Cam. To feed you at Christmas.”
My sister cackled at my dry tone. “To Quinn and Taran!”
“To Quinn and Taran!” Our guests raised their glasses in unison.
“Did you say yes?!” Angus squealed at Taran. “Did I miss it?”
Oh fuck.
“Angus.” Heather shook her head frantically at him.
My son seemed confused. “But … but we toasted them.”
“Say yes to what?” Taran frowned.
I gave my daughter a look, begging her to deny that she’d told Angus about the proposal. I loved my son dearly, but he couldn’t keep a secret to save himself.
Heather, unfortunately, winced. “Sorry.”
“Say yes to what?”
“To Dad,” Angus chirped. Then he finally read the room, his gaze darting to mine in horror. “Oh … oops.”
Taran’s spoon fell and hit her bowl, splashing ice cream and caramel sauce into London’s face.
London blinked in surprise but then calmly wiped off the dessert with the napkin Murray held out to her.
Taran gaped at me.
Fuck, shit, fuck.
“I’m sorry, Dad.” Angus sniffled.
“It’s okay, bud,” I assured him as an awful silence fell across the tables.
“Quinn? Were you … are you going to … is there a …” Taran’s voice trailed off after its pitch just got too high for her to continue without squawking.
I sank back in my seat, abandoning dessert. “Tomorrow … tomorrow I planned to take you to our cove and ask you to marry me with the ring I have hidden under our mattress.”
Everyone’s heads swiveled in unison to Taran.
Her cheeks were flushed, her lips parting wider and wider with her surprise.
