His eyes shot to the door, but there was no one there, no new arrival who had caught everyone off guard.
Confused, Mack glanced around, realizing all eyes were once again on him.
“What?” he asked, grabbing a dish towel and wiping his hands. “Do I have somethin’ on my face?”
That earned him a few chuckles and a bunch of smiles.
Then Jeff disengaged from the conversation he’d been having with Robert and walked over to meet Mack at the side of the bar.
Mack frowned. “Everything all right?”
“Actually, everything’s damn near perfect,” Jeff said, his voice ringing clearly through the bar. “However, that could take a turn depending on your answer.”
“My answer?” Mack motioned for the door to the back room. “Do you want to go back there and talk?”
Jeff shook his head. “Oh, no. What I have to ask, I can do right here.”
Completely baffled, Mack stared at Jeff. “What are—”
“Michael Evan Schwartz”—Jeff slowly went down to one knee before him—“will you marry me?”
Mack felt every single eye in the room, could feel the collective breath being held, but the only things he heard were the rapid thump of his own heart, the blood rushing in his ears. He was grateful for his beard because it likely disguised the heat making his cheeks flame. But despite the embarrassment of being in the spotlight, there was only one thing he was focused on. The man kneeling before him, the only man he’d ever loved with all of his heart, the man he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.
“Mack?” Jeff asked, the word wobbling on his tongue. “Please don’t leave me hangin’.”
Clearly he’d waited a bit too long to answer.
Smiling, Mack held up a finger to signal he needed a minute. He then tucked his other hand in his pocket and dug around to find what he’d been stowing there for the past three days, ever since he’d picked it up at the jeweler.
He noticed a hint of panic on Jeff’s face seconds before he said, “Of course I’ll marry you. But I think it should go on record that I’d planned to ask that very same question.”
The room exploded in laughter when Mack held up the ring, ensured everyone could see it. He took Jeff’s hand and pulled him to his feet. Not caring that all eyes were on them, Mack tugged him closer, kissed him square on the lips.
When he finally released him, Jeff leaned in, his mouth next to Mack’s ear. “Justice of the peace, Monday afternoon. I’m not waitin’ any longer to make you mine, Michael Schwartz.”
“I’ll be there,” he promised.
At two o’clock, when the last customer had left, Mack locked the front doors and shot Jeff a text, asking him to stop by when he could. Since it would take roughly an hour to get through his closing checklist, he figured Jeff would be able to spare him a few minutes before he left. If not, he’d wait for him at home.
God, he loved that. Home. With Jeff.
As he strolled through the space, tossing the hidden bottles into the trash and stowing chairs on the tops of tables, he found himself humming. It was likely the reason he didn’t hear the knock on the front doors until it became an insistent banging. He rushed over, shoved in the key.
“I thought you’d come in the back—” Mack’s words died when he saw Daniel standing outside in the cold drizzle.
He stepped back, motioned for his son to come inside before locking the doors again.
“Everything okay?” Mack had left Daniel several voicemails and numerous texts since their showdown on Monday, and they’d all gone unanswered.
“No,” Daniel said softly. “It’s not.”
Mack stepped behind the bar, retrieved a Coke, and offered it to Daniel. He got the feeling his son was working up to a conversation, and the last thing he wanted to do was derail it.
Daniel took a seat at the bar, accepted the can, his eyes locking on Mack’s left hand. More specifically, the band that now decorated his ring finger.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t here tonight. Kennedy asked me to come and … I couldn’t.”
Mack nodded, though he didn’t understand.
