Page 139 of Riding the Pine

He clears his throat. “You’re wearing it on your ring finger.”

That makes my brothers look at my hand.

“What the fuck?” Artemis looks at Scott. “Did you ask her?”

Apollo knows what has happened, but he stays quiet.

“Yeah, Scottie. Did you ask me?”

He makes a weird, horse-like noise through his nose. “I was going to. I went to get the damn thing. I thought it was lost.”

Abuelita and Mamá have come in to see what all the fuss is about.

“Then ask me.” I gesture at him.

“You’re already wearing it.” Amusement dances in his sparkling blue eyes.

“I needed somewhere safe to keep it. You can’t just leave something like this lying around.”

He nods. “I see this.” He walks toward me, speaking as he does. “Suffering has been stronger than all other teaching and has taught me to understand what your heart used to be. I have been bent and broken, but - I hope - into a better shape.”

The air leaves my body on such a beautiful quote from the book I don’t even like, but tears immediately spring into my eyes.

“Love her, love her, love her! If she favors you, love her. If she wounds you, love her. If she tears your heart to pieces – and as it gets older and stronger, it will tear deeper – love her, love her, love her!” His voice gets louder as he crosses the room toward me, quoting that bastard Dickens. When he reaches me, he brushes my cheek with his thumb, catching tears I didn’t know had even fallen.

“We need never be ashamed of our tears.” He cups my face, tilting my chin so I look up at him. “You are in every line I have ever read.”

The way he reads literature out loud in front of my family without a single blush of embarrassment in his cheeks is the most romantic thing I’ve ever seen.

Abuelita sighs, dabbing her cheeks with one of Abuelito’s handkerchiefs. Seems it’s hit Abuelita in the feels, as well.

Scott drops to one knee, making me roll my eyes.

He waggles his eyebrows. “You wanted me to ask, so I’m asking properly. Then you can’t hold it over my head until the day we die.”

“Already assuming I’m going to say yes.” We all know I am.

“You’re already wearing the ring.”

I flare my nostrils like some kind of disgruntled animal, and he snickers. “Just fucking say yes and put me out of my misery.”

“Yes to what?”

“To marrying me, Bright Eyes. Say you’ll marry me.”

I turn my hand to him and wiggle my fingers, showing him the ring. “I already did.”

Epilogue

SCOTT

(Two years later)

Nothing gets my fiancée’s blood pumping more than educating young women on their periods.

Okay, maybe there’s one thing that does.

Actually, y’know what? Even I’m not arrogant enough to think her pleasure outweighs the sheer joy she gets from helping other women. I don’t make her smile that widely, no matter what I do, or what I have women help me do.

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