Page 150 of When There Was You
Right. “That’s much appreciated.”
“Alright then, I’m sure you have other calls to make.”
“I do.”
“Give Butch our congratulations,” he adds.
They both say goodbye at the same time, and we hang up. I phone the only other people who matter, getting a hold of Kendra and Jas (unfortunately, Kit’s not there). It’s wonderful to catch up and hear their genuine excitement about my engagement. I tell them about the proposal, and they squeal and sigh at all the right moments. A pang of homesickness surfaces, and I wonder if a trip to California to see everyone and shop for my wedding dress makes sense.
“Everything good?” Butch asks.
“Mm-hmm,” I say, pushing all intrusive thoughts away and returning to riding the high offreshly engaged. My head tilts and my lips purse. “Butsomeonedidn’t tell me he asked my father for permission.”
A sly smile spreads across Butch’s face. “You think I’d half-ass something as important as this? You should know by now I have a code, do things properly.”
My eyes spark. “No argument here, Lumberjack. Although…”
“What?”
“You didn’t get on one knee.”
Butch’s eyes flare in a familiar way. “You want me on my knees, baby? You know how much I like that.” Hissalacious grin speaks volumes, giving me a twinge in my lady parts.
I shake my head, stifling a laugh.
He pulls me into his arms and kisses me, grabbing a big handful of my ass in the process. “Hello there, sexy fiancée.”
I return a languid smile. “God, I like the sound of that.”
“I like the sound ofmy wifeeven better.”
“Mmm…possessive.”
“You have no idea,” he murmurs. “You’re mine. Forever trapped in my net now, gorgeous girl.” He traces my lips with his finger. “Mine.” Grabs my ass again. “Mine.” Rubs between my legs. “Mine.” Caresses my breasts. “Mine.” Lands on my heart. “All fucking mine.”
Seventy-Three
“So…are you guys having an engagement party or what?” Liz asks, tapping a Christmas-red manicured fingernail against her coffee mug as we chat in her kitchen.
My mouth drops. “Seriously? I feel ambushed.”
It’s the day after the annual cookie-a-thon, where I was bombarded with wedding questions I couldn’t answer before Liz rescued me, telling everyone to back off and let me breathe.
She cackles like the devil herself. When her daughter and Emmy shout from the den, Liz cocks an ear, waiting to see if it warrants investigation. Their resounding giggles confirm they’re fine, and she refocuses on me. “Clearly, you need guidance. Which brings us back to your engagement party.”
“We haven’t talked about it. But Butch isn’t, you know, formal like that?”
Her face lights up and her fingers snap crisply in the air. “We could make it lumberjack themed!”
I snort in the most unladylike way. “Sold!”
Her eyes gleam as if her brain is working a mile a minute.
“Wait, are you serious?”
She pins me with a stare. “As a heart attack. I’m dying to plan a soiree, and this is the perfect opportunity. Did you already exchange gifts?”
“Gifts?”
