Page 236 of Story of My Life
“There was a lot more yelling and legalese thrown around first,” Gage said.
“Guys, can you just not?” Laura said on a muffled groan.
“You blackmailed him?”
“It was almost as satisfying as punching him,” Cam said.
I looked down at his hands. He had a barf emoji bandage over one knuckle. “Is this an old punching injury or a new one?”
Cam’s grin was wicked. “Let’s just say Jimbo thought he could get a piece of his manhood back by swinging first. He was wrong.”
I didn’t have words. I could barely see straight. Hot tears were blurring everything.
“Hazel, I want you to have everything you want.” His voice was like honey poured over gravel. “I wanna be the one who champions you, who inspires you, who protects you. I wanna be the one at your side for all the bad news and the good.”
I couldn’t hold back any longer. I ran to him, collided with him, wrapped my arms around him.
He did the same, those strong arms anchoring me to him even as he lifted me off my feet.
“I love you,” I said, kissing every square inch of his face.
“Guys, I think she’s happy,” Levi hissed.
“Either that or she’s eating his face. Did anyone make sure she had lunch today?” Zoey asked.
Cam kissed me, and I stopped hearing the drunken commentary, the suspicious animal noises, the doubts. “Love you too, Trouble. We’re gettin’ married.”
I choked out something between a cough and a laugh. “We’re what?”
He set me on my feet and reached into the waistband of his jeans. “Here. So we can start planning.” It was a save-the-date wedding organizer notebook.
“Hang on a second. Shouldn’t there be like a ring or, I don’t know, aproposalfirst?” I asked, flipping the notebook open. There, taped to the first page, was a girthy diamond engagement ring above Cam’s hasty scrawl. “Say yes.”
I stared up at him, open-mouthed.
“Say it, Trouble. Put me out of my misery.”
“Yes.”
We kissed again, long and hard, to the soundtrack of our friends and family celebrating. My office doors burst open, and we were pulled apart and hugged to within inches of our lives.
“Wait! What’s in the crates?” I demanded as Gage spun me around in a drunken circle.
“You didn’t show her the cuties?” Zoey slapped Cam in the chest.
He shrugged. “They were my backup plan if she tried to say no.”
“For Pete’s sake,” Laura said, leaning over and unlatching the door to the first crate.
A pudgy orange cat meandered out, then flopped his considerable girth onto the floor and began an intense grooming process. The second one, an adorable one-eyed puppy of indeterminate heritage, required a bit more coaxing. But after a handful of treats, he was soon zooming around my office.
“It was just supposed to be the cat, but according to Mom, they’re a bonded pair and I’d be a monster to split them up,” Cam said.
“What about Bertha?” I asked. Did raccoons tolerate cats and dogs like they did baby piglets?
“Bertha has been relocated to the fanciest luxury raccoon house money can buy in the backyard. There’s literally no other way for her to get in the house unless someone gives her a set of keys,” Cam promised.
“You’re crazy.” I laughed, turning to admire my ring in the light from the window. My laugh turned to a gasp when I realized there had been one more addition to the room.
