Page 3 of Doing It for Love

“You know, the spot.”

“In the shower?” I laugh when his red face darkens a shade.

“No, I mean…I love you. And it’s not like I’m going to break up with you. And I’m pretty sure you want to be stuck with me.”

“You think we’re stuck? That’s ‘the spot’?”

“No. Shit, it’s coming out wrong.”

“I don’t even know what you’re trying to say.” I laugh, bending down to adjust the heat on the water.

“I’m saying there’s no reason for me to freak out because I want to marry you. I think, you know, we should get married.”

My hand stops dead on the tap, and I crick my neck to catch his expression. He’s gone from red wine to white in the blink of an eye, water dripping from his dark hair down his forehead, and he frantically wipes it away. Then he reaches for me, pulls me up against him, hiding his face.

“Um…what did you just say?” I croak, my heart suddenly beating out of my skull. A tidal wave rushes through my stomach, and my nails dig into his shoulders to make sure I’m not dreaming or something.

He slowly backs away from my neck, eyes wide as grapefruits. “I didn’t mean…oh shit…it wasn’t supposed to happen like this.”

He falls forward, pushing me against the cold tile and hitting his forehead on the wall near my cheek.

“What wasn’t supposed to happen?” I ask through a small laugh. Seconds ago, he was boasting about not freaking out, and now he’s gone bat crazy.

“I had it all planned,” he grumbles into the tile. The echoes bounce off my shoulder. “I even bought a suit. Outside patio dinner, clear night for stars…I was going to pull out all the romantic stops, and it just falls out when we’re in the shower.”

“Landon, are you being serious? I can never tell.”

“Because I’m never serious?”

“Pretty much, yeah.”

He lifts his head, eyes meeting mine, and a nervous twitch pulls at the corner of his mouth. “Will you marry me?”

My heart’s still thumping through my brain.

“The test was negative, Landon,” I try to joke, but it comes out wobbly. “You don’t have to—”

“I know.” His palms cradle my face, drops of water falling from his eyelashes. “Will you marry me?”

His misty lips make contact with my nose. I’m still trying to process if he’s serious or not.

“Really? This isn’t because of that pregnancy test, is it?”

“I was planning on asking a few weeks ago. Cross my heart, the ring’s been in this apartment for at least a month.”

My eyes flick back and forth between his, searching, searching, searching for a lie, a joke, a tease,something.But it’s all honesty and nerves and love. So much love I find myself slipping on the wall, losing strength in my knees.

“Youareserious.”

“I love you, Liz. Marry me? Please?”

I feel a smile tug on my mouth. The water’s getting too cold to stay underneath, but my body temperature rises, my skin boiling under his touch. I grip his forearms, holding myself steady while he continues to cup my cheeks.

I love every bit of this man, every piece of his heart and soul and mind and body. So even though I wasn’t expecting it this way, even though I was just internally moaning about not getting any spontaneous loving, I practically shout my answer at him.

“Yes.”

“Yes?” He pulls back, the stream of water hitting him square in the face. I laugh and bat it away from him. “Yes…you said yes?”

---