Page 28 of The Santa Situation
Jemma pressed her hand to her forehead. “You’ve all completely lost your minds.”
“Pretty sure they’re the only ones around here who had any sense,” I commented with a grin.
She squeezed my hand. “Don’t encourage them.”
“Too late,” Lilah said, setting her chin on her open palm. “You’re just mad because we’re smarter than you.”
“You’re something,” Jemma and I muttered in unison under our breaths.
Eli grinned. “Give it a few weeks, and they’ll be finishing each other’s sentences.”
Maggie’s face took on a devious expression that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand at attention, the same one she’d had right before she “accidentally” locked me andJemma in the storage closet at the community center before the Fourth of July parade. She glanced around the table, letting the suspense build, before her eyes finally landed on me. “Five dollars says my dad proposes by Christmas.”
The table went dead silent. Even the clink of silverware stopped. Lilah froze with her fork halfway to her mouth. Eli’s eyebrows shot up. And Jemma?—
Jemma’s head snapped toward Maggie, her eyes wide. “Maggie.”
My heart was suddenly hammering against my ribs. This wasn’t how I’d planned it—I’d been thinking maybe in the spring, somewhere quiet, just the two of us—but then I’d passed the jewelry store this morning and saw the antique ring in the window, and …
Screw it.
“Well,” I said, reaching into my pocket. My fingers closed around the small velvet box. “I don’t know about Christmas …”
Jemma’s gaze dropped to my pocket, her lips parting. “Charlie.”
I pulled the box out. “But the first Sunday in December sounds about right.”
Her hand flew to her mouth. “You’re not serious.”
“Completely, one hundred percent serious.” I pushed back my chair, the legs scraping loudly against the hardwood floors, and dropped down onto one knee.
Our kids exploded—Eli whooped, Lilah shrieked, “Oh my god!” and Maggie waved her hands in front of her face.
Through it all, I only had eyes for Jemma.
I opened the box, and the ring caught the light—an Art Deco piece with a center diamond flanked by sapphires, and delicate filigree work on the band. Old-fashioned. Elegant. Just like my love.
“We’ve lost enough time already, Jem,” I said, my voice rough with emotion.
She laughed, tears pooling in her eyes. “You can’t just spring something like that on me at dinner!”
“Sure, I can.” I took her left hand in mine and held it gently. “I don’t want to spend another day without you. Another hour.” I swallowed hard, suddenly aware of how quiet the room had grown, of how three pairs of eyes were watching us as I slid the ring onto her finger. “Jemma Marie Price. Will you marry me?”
She stared at me, tears streaming freely now, her hand trembling. “You really want this?”
I looked up at her—at this woman who I’d loved in one way or another since I was seventeen years old—and who loved me right back.
I nodded. “Yeah, Jem. I really do.”
For one long, suspended moment, she just looked at me. Then her face crumpled into the most beautiful smile I’d ever seen.
“Yes,” she whispered. Then louder, laughing through her tears: “Yes, I’ll marry you.”
The room erupted again.
Chairs scraped back as everyone rushed toward us. Lilah was crying, Eli was shaking his head with a grin like he couldn’t believe I’d actually done it, and Maggie was demanding to see the ring up close.
When I finally stood and pulled her into my arms, she buried her face in my chest. I could feel her laughing and crying at the same time, could feel her heart racing against mine.
