Page 140 of The Reason I Married Him
“It’s not nice to joke about hurting someone,” Mac replies.
Ryland lets out a deep sigh, the kind of sigh every parent lets out at least once a day just as Hattie and Hayes join us as well. “I know, I’m sorry. I won’t joke about it again.”
“Your apology is accepted. Can we get cotton candy?” Mac asks, jumping up and down again.
“Didn’t you already have a lollipop?” Ryland asks.
“Yes, but I want cotton candy now.”
“How about we find something with protein?” Ryland says.
“Does cotton candy have protein in it?” Mac asks.
“No.” Ryland shakes his head, and she pouts.
“I think I’ve had enough protein today. I don’t need any more.”
“Nice try,” he says as he takes her hand in his. “Congrats, you two. I’ll catch up a little later.” He takes off, hand in hand with Mac, and all I can think of is how grateful I am that Ryland is in charge of her. I’m not sure I would have been able to step up to the plate like he did. He has the necessary patience required to raise such a young child.
Hattie and Hayes are next as they step up to congratulate us. Hattie pulls Aubree into a hug, and Hayes lends his hand out to me. I give it a firm shake as he says, “You just upped the ante on the proposal. Not sure I can top that. Someone else will be expecting something soon.” He nods toward Hattie, and I laugh.
“Take your time and do it right. No need to rush. Also, Rodney has a train if you want to use it.”
Hayes laughs. “You looked pretty sick in that thing, man. Like a man on his steed, riding into the sunset.”
“I could tell you were envious.” I rub my hands together. “Not everyone can look as cool as me.”
“Very cool.” He smiles, and then with a brow raised, he asks, “I have to ask, was there a reason you rushed into a proposal? Just curious.”
“If you’re implying something, the answer is no. We just want to be married is all.”
“Are you assuming I’m pregnant?” Aubree asks, joining the conversation.
Hayes holds up his hand. “Not assuming anything, just, you know, making sure. Always good to have all the information.”
“We’re not,” Aubree says.
“Shame,” Hattie says. “I would have loved a shotgun wedding.” She then pulls me into a hug and congratulates me. “I’m happy for you two. Now let me see the ring.”
Aubree holds up her hand, and Hattie takes it. She examines the ring for a few seconds before she looks up at me. “Wyatt, I don’t think I could have picked anything more perfect for her. This is . . . this is stunning.”
Huh, maybe I know more about Aubree than I think I do.
Aubree glances down at the ring, then back at me. “It really is perfect.”
Perfect, huh?
Some might count that as a win for me.
The train might have been a large loss. Along with the tumble out of it. The chin scrape and the seesaw attempt at a hug, but the ring . . . the ring is a win.
But I’m wondering, because Aubree has been pretty good at faking this entire endeavor, if she truly means it when she says the ring is perfect or if she’s acting. Not that it matters, but you know, just for ego’s sake, it would be nice to know if that comment was genuine.
“Thanks. When I was looking through all of the rings, I had something simple yet elegant in my mind. When I saw that one, it immediately reminded me of you.”
That’s not a lie. That’s facts.
It felt like an Aubree ring.
