Page 29 of Improper Proposal
The lock clicks, and she slowly opens it. My heart crashes when I take her in, dressed in sweat pants and a T-shirt, her hair pinned up in a sexy mess like she’s been working all night, and all the love I feel for her comes rushing to the surface.
“We need to talk.”
“Will?” She blinks once, then twice, like she’s trying to figure out if I’m real or not. “What…what are you doing here?” Her lids flash rapidly, and she crosses her arms—a defensive move. Christ, does she think I’m here because I’m angry with her and the way things played out? Doesn’t she realize how crazy I am about her?
I wave my hand back and forth between us, a new sort of desperation racing through me. I can’t lose her. I just can’t. “We need to talk. You and me. That night after we made love, I told you before I went into the bathroom that I wanted to talk, and you took off, leaving me standing there in nothing but a towel, before we had the chance to speak.”
“I thought you wanted to talk about me confessing to your family, and I had to leave you like that. Everyone was standing there, accusing me of things…and I…I didn’t mean to hurt them, Will.”
My heart aches as tears pool in her eyes, and I pull her to me. At first she’s stiff, but then she softens in my arms. I kiss her forehead. “What I wanted to talk about was you and me,” I whisper into her ear.
Her body tightens. “It was a week of sex, I get that. You don’t owe me any explanation.”
“I owe you an apology.”
She shakes her head. “For what? I’m the one who should be apologizing to everyone.”
“You don’t need to, but that’s entirely up to you if you feel strongly about it. First, I need to say I never should have made such an improper proposal. It was wrong of me.”
She steps back her expression confused. “You mean about keeping my secret and having epic sex, again and again, until my trip was over?”
“Yes.”
“I agreed to it, Will. I wanted it, too.”
“The question is, do you still?”
“I…we…we agreed to sex only.”
“How stupid of me,” I say. “Any proposal to you should be a proper one.”
“I don’t understand.”
I drop to one knee. “I knew you were special the first time I laid eyes on you, and I know this is quick, and I’ve only known you for a few weeks, but I also know a good thing when I see it. I’m crazy about you. I want more than sex. I want everything. More importantly I want you to trust that I’m not like the guys from your past, that I’m not going to be here one day and gone the next.”
“Will,” she cries as I pull a box from my coat pocket. “What…what are you doing?”
“Proposing, properly. Will you marry me, Harper?”
She steps back, leaving me there on my knees, and my heart sinks as she holds the door like she’s going to close it on me—on us.
“Wait,” I blurt out. “Please don’t.”
She gulps as tears fall down her face. “I can’t, Will. Your family. They hate me, and after the stunt I pulled, I can’t blame them. How could I ever be with you after that?”
“Answer me one question. You owe me that much.”
She nods. “Okay.”
“Do you love me?”
She stands there for so long, her eyes locked on mine, fear crawls its way into my heart. Maybe she doesn’t really feel the same way as I do. Maybe blaming my family is her way out. Jesus, fuck, please tell me I’m not wrong about us, that she does care about me as much as I care about her.
“Yes,” she finally whispers, and I let loose a breath of relief.
“Good.” I stand, turn around, and gesture with a wave. A second later, my entire England family, along with my mom and dad, who’ve yet to meet Harper, opens the door to the stairwell and comes racing toward us.
“Oh. My. God,” she shrieks as they bombard her, much the same way they did when she first landed on their doorstep. “What’s going on, Will?”
