Page 34 of Honkers Under the Holly

“Can’t blame him.” Mac pulled me into his arms. “It’s been a big day. Winning the Bowl, saving our careers, becoming a social media romantic icon...”

“Speaking of...” I showed him my phone, where #GooseLoveStory was still trending. “Apparently we’re now the greatest romance since “The Princess Bride”. Though I’m pretty sure that movie didn’t involve any waterfowl.”

“Their loss.” His hands slid down to my hips, drawing me closer. “You know what the best part about all this is?”

“Hmm?”

“I get to do this whenever I want now.” He kissed me softly, then with growing heat. “No more hiding. No more pretending.”

“Just us,” I breathed against his lips. “Being real.”

His hands traced my curves with reverent familiarity, like he was memorizing me all over again. “Do you know how many times I wanted to kiss you like this in public? Show everyone that you’re mine?”

“Show me now,” I whispered, and his kiss deepened, filled with all the love we’d been hiding.

He walked me backward toward our bed, his touch setting fire to every inch of skin he found. When my legs hit the mattress, he followed me down, his weight deliciously solid against me.

“I love you,” he murmured, trailing kisses down my neck. “The genuine kind. The forever kind.”

“Show me that too.” I wriggled underneath Mac, loving the feel of his body covering mine. But something was poking meright in the left side of my belly. It wasn’t the Christmas tree in Mac’s pants either. This was too small for that.

“Mr. Jerry, is that a goose egg in you pocket or are you just happy to see me?”

Mac chuckled and slid off the end of the bed and onto one knee. He pulled a little black box out of his pocket. “It’s not a goose egg, Sara Jayne.”

SAY YES TO THE CHAOS

My grandmother’s ring felt like it was burning a hole in my pocket, just like it had every day since I’d picked it up from the safe deposit box three weeks ago. But this time, as I dropped to one knee beside our hotel bed, everything felt different. Real.

Sara Jayne’s eyes went wide. “Mac...”

“Remember when Magda asked why you weren’t wearing a ring at her party?” My voice was steadier than I’d expected, probably because I’d never been more sure of anything in my life. “And I said I was waiting to get my grandmother’s ring?”

She nodded, one hand pressed to her lips.

“That wasn’t entirely a lie.” I opened the box, revealing the vintage diamond that had been in my family for three generations. “I really did get it. That day. Because even though we were pretending, I knew—I think I’ve known since you ran through the tent chasing a goose at Oktoberfest—that you were it for me. Though I think the goose chased me, technically.”

“Mac,” she whispered again, tears sparkling in her eyes.

“I love how you color-code your sock drawer but will jump into chaos to help a friend. I love that you saw past my spreadsheets and planning, trying to figure out how to besuccessful, to the guy who needed a little chaos in his life. I love that you turned our fake engagement into the realest thing I’ve ever known.” I took a shaky breath. “Sara Jayne, will you marry me? Hint, this is a real proposal this time.”

A loud honk startled us both. Sir Honksalot stood in the doorway between the suites, watching us with what could only be described as an expectant expression.

Sara Jayne laughed through her tears. “I think our goose is waiting for an answer.”

“Our goose isn’t the only one.”

“Yes,” she said, pulling me up to her. “Yes to marrying you. Yes to chaos and color-coding and everything in between. Yes to our silly goose and our crazy life and?—”

I cut her off with a kiss, sliding the ring onto her finger where it belonged. Where it had always belonged, even when we were just pretending.

Sir Honksalot let out another approving honk before settling back into his nest of stolen socks, apparently satisfied with his matchmaking work.

“I love you,” I murmured against Sara Jayne’s lips. “The genuine kind. The forever kind.”

The moonlight caught the diamond on her finger as she pulled me onto the bed with her. My grandmother’s ring—now her ring—sparkled just like her eyes.

“I can’t believe you had this all along,” she whispered, wrapping her arms around my neck.

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