Page 12 of Own the Eights Gets Married
He sighed. “I’m sorry the ring is the wrong size. Between myself and the wedding wonder twins, I thought I could have gotten that part right.”
She wiggled her fingers as the diamond sparkled in the sunlight. “It’s nothing a jeweler can’t take care of. But I have to ask you, when did you start thinking about proposing? Don’t get me wrong. I love you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, but today was a huge surprise.”
“I had to ask before you got another proposal,” he replied, suppressing a grin.
She looked up at him, her eyes twinkling. “From who?”
“Remember when that little kid asked you to marry him a couple weeks ago?”
“Little Joey, the five-year-old from the bookstore?” she asked with a thread of incredulity.
He laughed. “It sounds crazy when you put it like that. But I have to admit, I was a little caught off guard by it. But the kid was right. What was I waiting for?”
She hummed a sweet chuckle. “You know there’s no one I love more than you.”
“I know,” he answered gently, wrapping his arm around her.
“I can’t wait to be your wife,” she said, smiling up at him.
This—the two of them. This is who they were.
The hotel came into view, and Georgie stopped and stared at the building.
She turned to him with a slight crease to her brow. “We want this, don’t we?”
He knew exactly what she was talking about and wrapped his arms around her, drawing her in close.
He ran his hand down her back. “We both want to help people live their best life. It’s what we’ve wanted from the beginning.”
She sighed, and her warm breath tickled his neck. “I wanted to talk more about the Shakespeare Shuffle. Do you think we’ll be able to pull it off?”
“The high schools are all promoting it, and we post about it every day,” he answered.
“It’s our first big project. I don’t want us to crash and burn,” she whispered.
Neither did he.
“Hey, we’ve proven there’s nothing the wet T-shirt girl and the goat guy can’t do. With enough vegan cookie dough, we’re unstoppable.”
She grinned up at him with a smile that turned him to mush.
“But we do have one problem,” he said, working to keep his features neutral.
“We do? What’s that?” she asked.
His stony expression gave way to a wide grin. “I haven’t kissed you as my fiancée yet.”
“No, you have not,” she replied, her gaze darkening.
He leaned in. “We need to change that.”
“Why’s that?” she purred.
“Because after we finish with whatever the hell kind of champagne party Hector and Bobby have up their sleeves, I’m taking you home, and we’re getting your sex hair back.”
Georgie drew her fingertips down his torso. “Is that so?”
He nodded. “And there won’t be enough hair conditioner in all of Denver to untangle it after I’m through with you, soon-to-be, Mrs. Marks.”
He tilted her chin and stroked his thumb across her jawline. With a sexy as hell sigh, Georgie closed her eyes and melted into his touch when a sharp gasp and shrill yelp accompanied by the scent of perfume left them frozen.
“Pumpkin! Jordan! There’s not going to be a soon-to-be-anythingif you two don’t stop playing kissy-face for all of the city to see and make an appearance at your party!”
