Page 171 of Huckleberry Hill
“Please don’t hit me again,” Declan said, grimacing.
Dad stood up from the chair. And then before I knew it, I was being hugged again. And when he pulled back, my strong, stoic father had tears in his eyes.
“This is damn good news,” he said gruffly. “Congratulations to the both of you. When’s the wedding?”
“Excuse me?” I asked.
“The wedding,” he said, looking from me to Declan, focusing hard on Declan. “There will be a wedding, right?”
I looked at Declan too, unsure of what to say. Declan didn’t take his eyes off my father when he replied, “Whenever she wants one.”
Dad nodded and his expression relaxed. “Good.”
“You’re not going to stand behind me with a shotgun, Seven Brides for Seven Brothers style, are you?” Declan asked.
“No,” Dad said. “I still don’t know where the damn thing is hidden.”
“Hold on a second,” I voiced.
Two pairs of eyes looked at me.
“Don’t I get a say?” I demanded. “About a wedding?”
“Of course you get a say,” Declan said with a cheery smile. “You get to set the date.”
“Aren’t you forgetting something?” I asked.
“No, I don’t think I’m forgetting anything.” Declan frowned. “Oh, wait. The ring.”
“Not the ring, you goober. The question,” I said. “You never asked me if I wanted to marry you.”
“Hadley, will you marry me?” Declan asked.
I crossed my arms over my chest and turned my head away from him. “No.”
Dad slapped Declan on the back. “I better leave you two alone to iron out some stuff. I need to call Jane and let her know you’re okay.”
“Jane?” I asked. “There’s a Jane?”
“I was with her when Muddy got hold of me,” he said. “So she knows you’re in the hospital. Don’t worry. I won’t spoil your good news. You can tell everyone in your own time.”
Dad shook Declan’s hand and then left the room, leaving me alone with the man who had just given me the worst marriage proposal in history.
“I’m not marrying you,” I said to Declan.
“Sure, you are,” he said, looking far too cheery.
“I won’t say yes to such a lukewarm proposal.”
“Oh, that wasn’t my proposal.” He took the chair and scooted closer. He tried to take my hand, but I kept tugging it free.
“Then why did you tell my dad we were getting married?” I asked in exasperation. “And why did you just literally ask me to marry you in front of him?”
“Because your father wants to know if I’m a man of my word. My drunken word. I told him that I was serious enough about you to marry you when he got me drunk at the Copper Mule. He also knows I can provide for you financially. That proposal was for your father. I knew you’d say no, at least here in this room. You haven’t gotten your real proposal yet.”
I felt myself softening. “I don’t want you proposing just because we’re having a baby. We can be together and not get married.”
“Nope. Not happening.” He shook his head. “I want you to have my last name. And I want our baby to have my last name. We’re going to be a family.”
