Page 116 of Emerson

“Do you want to be with us?” Dillon asks softly.

“Foweva?” Penny asks, looking up at Dillon and then back to me.

He ruffles her blond curls, and my eyes start leaking when he looks back at me. Just leaking all over the damn place.

“Forever,” he repeats. “Open the cupcake, baby.”

I look between them, then down at the cupcake in my hand. I drop the empty pink box so I can gently pull at the top. My heart thumps loudly when it lifts off the bottom, and then I make a truly disgusting sound when I see the silver band with little pink stones.

“Dillon,” I croak.

When I look back up, he’s on his feet, and moving towards me. “Marry me, Emerson.”

“I’m wearing cow slippers,” I whisper, and he laughs.

“And it’s perfect. Marry me.”

I step back, biting my lip.

“I clog your drain.”

“Good thing I know how to use Draino.”

I skirt around the coffee table, and Penny laughs when I snatch her up and press my face into her curls. “I want more kids.”

Dillon stops dead in his tracks, then groans. “Keep going.”

“I want more cats. And a bunch of kids. I want them all to have the same middle name, and…” I take Penny with me, circling around the living room.

“I want chickens in the back yard, and I want…”

Dillon chuckles, narrowing his eyes when I fumble with the cupcake to take the ring out. I set the cupcake gently down, then slide the ring on my finger, hoisting Penny up. Four-year-old's are heavy, but I’ll be carrying her around until I physically cannot, thank you very much.

“I want a big, obnoxious wedding. I want you to wear a baby pink vest under your tux, and…and I want you to write your own vows.”

He inhales deeply and starts moving for me again.

“Anything else?”

“A massive cupcake tower instead of a wedding cake. But you have to make it because no one else makes cupcakes like you do, and…”

Penny laughs in my arms when Dillon reaches us. He gently takes her from me, setting her on her feet before coming back for me. He holds my face in his hands and smiles.

“Only you would turn a proposal into a negotiation of terms.”

“So do we have a deal?”

His answer is to press his smile on my lips.

Once upon a time, I wondered what his smile would feel like against me. Now I know it’s my favorite thing.