Page 187 of Sloane

Stu draped an arm around my shoulders and said, “He’s growing on me, Ash.”

“I can’t believe he did this.”

“I don’t think he’s done. That card was pretty cryptic.”

“You need to stop reading over my shoulder!” I chastised, but he was right; I’d thought the same thing.

Bobby stood on the other side of me and asked, “But what else could he do to top this?”

I had an idea, and my stomach was in knots over it.

Yes, I loved Sloane—so freaking much, and watching him with Millie over the last week only made that feeling grow exponentially. But could I marry him?

I knew I couldn’t break up with him. And I’d already decided I wasn’t willing to give him an ultimatum.

Why did being in love have to be so hard?

Chapter Sixty-Nine

Ashley

Sloane looked sexy as fuck when he walked into the restaurant wearing black slacks, and a cobalt-blue shirt and tie that matched his eyes. As hot as I thought he was in a uniform, this look worked, too. He exuded so much confidence with his ramrod-straight posture and swagger, I knew when people looked at him too long, it wasn’t because of his burns. It was because he was magnetic.

I loved knowing the old Sloane was back. Maybe a little wearier, but he was also wiser.

“There’s my girls!” he exclaimed before planting a kiss to my forehead and taking Millie from me.

That’s all it took to win my mother over.

I’d already called him that morning to chew him out for being so thoughtful and buying me a minivan.

“I got a screaming deal, sweetness. I wasn’t that frivolous, it’s used.”

“It has eleven thousand miles, Sloane.”

“Like I said, it’s used. Besides, you need something that’s easier to get Millie in and out of. I don’t know what I was thinking, giving you the Jeep.”

“It’s too much, babe.”

“Not even close, honey. I’ll see you tonight.”

I fretted all through dinner that he was going to get down on his good knee and pop the question in front of my mom and the rest of the restaurant. I’d already made up my mind that there was no use fighting it. He was the one for me. I just didn’t want him to ask in such a public venue.

And he didn’t.

Instead, after dessert, he handed me a tan envelope with my name written in calligraphy on the front. The back flap of the envelope read “United States Marine Corps” in red letters with Camp Pendleton’s address, and a wax seal with the Corps logo.

I cocked my head when I looked at him.

“What’s this?”

He lifted his shoulders. “Open it.”

After the first few lines, I couldn’t read anymore because my eyes were filled with tears.

I looked over at him as the first one rolled down my cheek.

“Are you sure? Please don’t do this just because of me.”

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