Page 106 of Snapping the Ice
“Angle it more to the left.” Mason sat in the center of the sofa, drinking beer.
“I had it there, and you mentioned not being able to get a good picture from the loveseat.” Archer scoffed, standing next to our television, which rested on a white console with a rustic wood top.
“Just do it, Archer. How hard is it for you to take directions? No wonder Ace is always saving your ass.” Mason snickered.
“Did I hear my name?” Ace lumbered from the hallway to the bedrooms, stopped by the couch, and planted his hands on his hips.
“They haven’t said your name in vain.” Zoma looked up from a box in the corner, holding a framed photo. “Yet.”
Tilting his head, Ace said, “The television’s too far to the right.”
Slumping his shoulders, Archer tsked and rubbed his brows. “You know what? Lucas can fix it when they sit down to watch something.” He stomped toward me. “It’s all yours, man.” He patted my shoulder. “I smell food.”
“It’s ready.” Leo took plates down from an upper cabinet.
“Shit.” Mason jumped off the couch andstrode to me, rubbing his hands together. “Where’s Ezra? We want to do this before the sun sets, right?”
“That was the plan, but we might not even see the sun.” I pointed out the patio doors.
“Oh shit. Let’s get a move on.” Mason scrambled into the kitchen, pulled a few bottles of champagne out of the refrigerator, and opened them. “Jett, a little help?”
“Sure.” Jett left a box at the end of the kitchen island to bring champagne flutes to Mason. “Where’s Ezra?”
“I think he’s working on his closet.” Fuck, I should get him. I sauntered into our bedroom, with a fresh king-sized bed in crisp white linens and a dark gray paisley comforter, and found Ezra setting folded clothes into a wooden dresser.
“Babe, can you come out here? We’re having a housewarming toast in the backyard before the sun sets and dinner is ready.”
“Oh, sure.” With a grin, he straightened and kissed my cheek as he left the room.
I followed, watching the sway of his tight, round ass. How could I have confused him for a woman? Maybe my brain hadn’t been prepared for the truth, which was that he was my person. The gender didn’t matter.
As my heart thundered in my ears, I fingered the rings in my pocket. I hoped to fuck this went well.
As we strolled into the main room, all the guys stood around the patio doors with champagne flutes in hand, grinning.
“Oh, this looks great.” Ezra stepped to Zoma, who handed him a glass. “Thank you.”
“You’re very welcome.” Zoma’s grin widened as his gaze met mine.
With a smirk, Mason handed me a glass and whispered, “Go get ‘em. You’re a Hopkins. Remember that.”
“How could I forget it with you around?” I tossed him a quick smile and sipped my champagne, my nerves unravelling. This was it.
Everyone filled the covered patio, and I snatched Ezra’s hand, then set my glass and his on the patio table. “Join me briefly near the roses.” The desert was a strange place. You could have rain one second and sunshine the next.
Glancing back at the guys as we stepped toward the rose bushes, he said, “But everyone else is over there. And what about our champagne?”
Fuck, I had to act fast before he realized something was up. I stopped, grabbing both of his hands in mine and squeezing. “Ezra, look at me.”
His gaze tore from the others and snapped to mine. “What’s going on?” His forehead wrinkled. “Babe?”
With a deep inhale I said, “Ezra Turner, when you walked into my life it was a shit show, but together we got through it, stronger than ever. You taught me so many things, but mostly you taught me how deeply I could love.”
His eyes welled with tears, and he bit his lower lip.
“I told you if we moved in together, we should be engaged and yes, we’ve joked about it. But today, we’re moving in together and I want it to be real.” With emotion bursting inside me, I fell on one knee, fishing a ring from my pocket. “Ezra Turner, will you marry me? For real?”
“Oh, fuck.” His breath hitched, and a tear tumbled down his cheek. “Yes. Absolutely.”
