Page 135 of Wicked Pickle

“I guess the alien got me,” I say.

“Diesel?” she repeats.

“I spent a long time refusing to recognize my family for what it could be.” I reach for her hand. “Then you came along and made me see what I was missing.”

“I did?”

I grasp her fingers firmly. “You did. I denied anything that might be weak. I didn’t realize that facing those things is what truly makes us strong.”

“Oh, Dean Diesel.”

“Symphony Collins, my muse, my motherfucking goddess, will you marry me?”

She glances at the rocks. “These were for me.”

“Yeah.”

She laughs and kicks at the rocks to get rid of the Y again. “Hell yes, Dean Diesel. Mar me. Mar every fucking inch.”

I flash her the grin I know knocks her panties off and slide the ring on her finger. “In the water or on the sand?”

She grabs the waistband of my board shorts and yanks them down. “All of the above.”

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