Page 98 of I'm Yours

“Relax. She’s been hiding in the bathroom. She didn’t see anything.”

Phew. Still… what if she snuck a peek? I wouldn’t put it past her. She’s a little stinker.

“You can come out now!” he shouts back and she comes running.

“Did you say yes?”

I show her my hand and she tackles me. I fall to the floor and hug her tightly. “Yay! I knew you’d say yes.”

“You did, huh?”

“Uh huh! You like us too much to say no.”

I chuckle. Us. Yes, yes, I do.

Emmy gasps, “Eww, Daddy! Why don’t you have a shirt on?”

I look at him and press my lips together.

“Got hot earlier,” he mutters and bends over to snatch his shirt off the floor. He slides it on. Such a pity. I almost sigh. Reed shirtless should just be the norm.

“Guess what?” she asks, so excited she can barely sit still but completely satisfied with his answer.

“What?”

“Oh, no. You have to stand up. No. On your knees. Right, Daddy?”

“No, honey. She needs to stand up.” He leans down and whispers something in her ear and then she smiles, nods, and motions for me to stand.

“I was right the first time. You have to stand.” I do as little miss bossy pants asks and stand up then look at her in confusion when she gets on her knees.

“One knee, remember?”

“Oh, duh. Like this?”

“Perfect,” he murmurs and I swear I swoon.

“I love you, Sadie.”

I almost bawl at how adorable she is. “I love you, too, Emmy.”

“I think you’re super fun and you’re such a good dancer and you’re a way better cook than my daddy.” I laugh and have to wipe my face from all the leakage. “And I like the way you cut my cheese sandwiches and the funny voices you make when you read to me. I also like the way you let me help you when you’re playing in the dirt and how you taught me how to do a cartwheel better than any of the girls at school.”

I’m crying like a maniac now but I don’t even care. She’s so adorable and holy crap, I’m a mess. I love her.

“Will you marry my daddy?” she asks, and I look to Reed, confused when I see him hand something to her.

Then she lifts another ring up but this one isn’t an engagement ring. It looks more like a wedding band but instead of only diamonds, the ring alternates between emeralds and diamonds.

“It’s your birthstones,” Reed explains.

“Ours?”

“You and Emmy’s, baby. She wanted a ring for the two of you.”

I look down at Emmy and burst into more tears, sure that I’m going to be dehydrated soon.

“Our ring?” I ask her and she digs under her shirt, pulling out a necklace.

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