Page 90 of Making It Happen
“Will you marry me?”
“Will you marry me?”
We ask at the same time.
Even though I knew it was coming, my eyes still fill with tears. I nod quickly, and we both say, “Yes,” at the same time as well.
I start to lean in, needing to kiss him desperately, but he stops me. “I have one more question for you before we do that,” he says.
“Okay,”
“We really can live in Sapphire Falls, right? That’s not just family teasing? We’ll both have to travel some, but this is really where I want to?—”
“Yes!” I laugh. “Of course. There’s nowhere else we should be.”
He blows out a breath. “Good. I’ll never get good at decorating cookies if we’re traveling constantly.”
I laugh. “Now, if you’re going to become a Sapphire Falls boy, there is something you need to experience and get good at.”
“I’m ready to learn it all,” he tells me.
“Sex in a car or truck parked at the river is a must.”
His gaze instantly heats, and I start shifting, unbuttoning, and unzipping.
A minute later, his brows up, he says, “I don’t think I want to know how you got so good at slipping out of your jeans and panties in the front seat of a car.”
I giggle. “You’re right. You don’t want to know.” I lean in and kiss him. “But this is about being quick and dirty.”
His hands are already sliding up and down my thighs. “So you’re saying youdon’twant me to treat this like cookie decorating?”
“Where you take forever and need it to be perfect? Nope. Just fun. Don’t overthink it.”
He kisses me deeply, and I start wiggling in his lap as my body starts to heat just that easily.
But he pulls back and says against my lips, “Then you’re not at all interested in the container of buttercream frosting I have in my coat pocket?”
I hesitate. Then laugh. “You have buttercream frosting in yourpocket?” I shake my head. “I might be concerned if I wasn’t so turned on.”
He shrugs. “I mean, it’s fine. I’ll just keep it and?—”
“Everett,” I interrupt. “Treat me like a great big naked sugar cookie.”
He chuckles and reaches into his pocket before shrugging out of his coat. “That’s what I thought.” He pulls the lid off the container and dips a finger inside.
I watch him suck the frosting from his index finger, and I suddenly think this is the best idea anyone’s ever had.
“I don’t know if we’ve ever had buttercream out here at the river,” I say as he scoops another dollop of frosting out of the container.
“Interesting,” he says as he drags his finger over my lower lip and then leans in to lick the frosting off. “I had never hung out at a bar in costume on Halloween, never playedSettlers of Catan,never sung Jingle Bell Rock at karaoke?—”
I gasp. “You told me you?—”
“Thepoint,” he says, cutting me off, “is that you’ve been the best damned time of my life, Ginger. You have been the reason I’ve done all these new, out-of-character things that have led me to friends, community, a new job, andfamily.”
I feel my eyes stinging with tears. God, I’m so happy that he has all of that andknowsit now.
“And,” he says, his voice husky. “I intend to return the favor for the next seventy-five years or so.”
I give him a big smile, then wrap my arms around his neck. “Seventy-five years doesn’t seem like enough. But, yeah, let’s start with that.”
Then I teach him about sex by the river.
He teaches me that he can still be a perfectionist, even in very tight spaces.
And we teach each other that there’s nothing more important than love.
Though buttercream frosting is right up there.
