“Just like that?”
“Yes,” I breathed. This was serious. Bloody serious. We were doing this?
“Then where do we start?”
“Getting a marriage licence is easy. We could just drive down to Gretna Green.”
“I’m not doing that, that’s worse than Vegas, and my parents would kill me.”
“Arguing already?” He was laughing, and I loved that.
“I’ll find out how to do it tomorrow. Google that stuff. And I’ll speak to the practice manager and get the ball rolling.”
“We’re getting married?”
“Fox.”
“Noah.”
“Don’t you dare propose to me over the phone.”
“Well, you said I love you over the phone?”
“This is going to end in disaster.”
“Yup. But it will be a good disaster.”
“Noah, will you marry me?”
He laughed. He couldn’t stop smiling. And he kissed the screen, like he was pretending I was right there.
I was. Right here.
“Yes. Absolutely, yes.”
“Good.”
“Fox Riley?”
“That’s me?”
“Wanna be my husband?”
“Abso-fucking-lutely.”
I blew him a kiss. Then I hung up on him because I had things to do. And I needed to sleep. Properly.
Which was when the door outside clicked, and little footsteps padded across the carpet. Small movements as I lay there wondering if I should get up, or just…let him.
I waited a bit, then snuck over to the door, just so I could see what he was doing.
All I could see was the new duvet I’d bought him. The cover neatly put on, a small blond head on the pillow, everything picture perfect on that sofa.
The light in the window on, the way I always left it.
And he tugged the duvet over his shoulder and wrapped himself up.
“Good night, Bailey,” I whispered.
