Chapter 60 – Remington
CHAPTER SIXTY
The return to the Waffle Ho
Remington
“Where are we going?” Mindy asks for approximately the fifty-seventh time.
“I told you, it’s a surprise.” I glance down at her. Or at least I try to only glance, but she’s so beautiful my eyes hang on her for a few long seconds, and I almost walk into a light post.
My girl is dressed in a fluttery red vintage dress that wraps around her body and ties over one hip.
Her chunky black Mary Jane heels make her slightly taller, but she still only comes up to my shoulder.
With her red hair pulled back into a high ponytail, the delicate lines of her gorgeous face are on full display, and I count my lucky stars she’s mine.
As we walk hand in hand down the Houston sidewalk, our destination becomes obvious, and she giggles. “Wait a minute. Are we going to the Waffle Ho?”
Lifting her hand, I kiss the back of it. “Where else would we go on the anniversary of the night we met?”
“I can’t believe you actually remember the date. That was eight years ago.”
I pull her to a stop and turn her to face me. “It was the most important night of my life because it’s the night I met the love of my life. How could I not remember it?”
Mindy flutters her eyelashes at me. “Mr. Hale, you are being very swoony.”
I simply smirk because she ain’t seen nothing yet. Her eyes go to something over my shoulder, and she lets out a little gasp. “The convenience store is still open. Remember when we bought lottery tickets there?”
She drags me inside, and the sticky sounds our shoes make bring back a sense of nostalgia. And disgust. Have they even mopped this floor since we were last in here?
Mindy’s face falls when she looks at the counter. “Aww, they don’t sell lotto tickets anymore.”
Reaching into my back pocket, I extract my wallet and dig through until I find what I’m searching for. “Does this look familiar?”
The Big Wiener logo on the old ticket has faded with time, but it’s still visible. “You kept yours?” she asks, running a single finger over the serrated edge.
“I did.”
Mindy gives me the oddest look before pulling out her own wallet and rummaging around, finally taking out her own Big Wiener ticket, which is in a similar condition to mine.
“You kept yours too?” I ask incredulously. “But you won fifty dollars.”
Her eyes well with wetness as she looks up at me. “It felt too important to cash in. I wanted to have something tangible to remember you.”
My throat is clogged with so many emotions. “I think this means we were always meant to be.”
“Of course we were,” she says with a hint of that sass I love so much. “I think we should have these framed or something.”
“And then one day we can show them to our ten kids.”
“Two kids,” she corrects, shooting hazel laser eyes at me.
“Two… ten… who’s counting,” I say, leading her from the store and down to the restaurant.
“I thought they got their sign fixed years ago,” Mindy says, coming to a stop and looking up at the sign that once again reads Waffle Ho.
“Huh, that’s weird,” I say, and she gives me the side-eye.
“Did you…” She looks back and forth between the sign and me and shakes her head. “Of course you did.”
I kiss the back of her hand again. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I fib, pulling her into the restaurant.
Mindy looks around the restaurant and whispers, “I’ve never seen this place so empty. There’s literally no one else in here.”
“Then we should have no trouble getting seated at our table,” I reply.
The hostess greets us, and I tell her we want the booth near the window, which she already knows since I set this up weeks ago. I allow Mindy in the booth first before taking the seat beside her. She eyes the pretty round flower arrangement with fragrant magnolias and red roses.
“Kind of odd that this is the only table with flowers,” she muses.
“It’s truly a night of wonders,” I say, making her laugh.
We order the same foods we did eight years ago, and our conversation flows just as easily. Once we’re done, the waitress clears our plates, and Mindy leans her head over onto my shoulder when I wrap my arm around her.
“Thank you for bringing me here for our anniversary instead of to a fancy restaurant,” she says, peeking up at me from beneath her lashes.
“I wanted it to be special.” I lean down and take her mouth in a sensual kiss. Some idiot knocks on the window, but I ignore them and focus on my woman. When the kiss ends, I brush my thumb over her damp bottom lip. “I got you something.”
“You didn’t have to—”
I hush her with my thumb. “I know I never have to, but I do anyway. Get used to it.” Then I reach over the back of the booth and locate the handles of the gift bag, tugging it over and setting it on the table in front of Mindy.
“What is it?” she asks because she knows it bugs me.
“A seventy-inch TV,” I deadpan. “Just open it.”
As she pulls out the mounds of tissue paper from the bag, my heart rises up to my throat in anticipation.
“Ooh, there’s two boxes,” she says, removing them and setting them on the table.
“Open the one with the blue bow first,” I instruct. She does, and her eyes light up when she sees what’s inside.
“Oh, this is so cute!” she squeals, carefully easing the salt shaker shaped like a white high-heeled shoe from its cushioned box.
Turning it over and over in her hands, she seems to genuinely love it.
“It’s so detailed. You can even see the stitching.
Is that hand-painted?” Her excited eyes lift to mine.
“It is. I had them custom-made.”
“Them? There’s another one in the other box?”
I stroke her ponytail. “Does only getting you half a set sound like something I would do?”
“Of course not,” she says, reaching for the other box, the one with the silver bow. “Hmm, this one is a little flatter. Maybe a lipstick to go with the high heel?”
I don’t answer because my tongue seems to have gotten stuck to the roof of my mouth. Reaching for the orange juice glass, I down the last of it, wishing it was something much stronger right now.
Mindy lifts the lid and her eyes turn into saucers. “Oh god, it’s so pretty.” Her fingers trace over the shaker shaped like a solitaire ring. I can see her blinking rapidly. Has she figured out what’s going on yet?
My fingers dig into my thigh so hard I think I might literally poke holes in my suit pants as she lifts it from the satin-covered cushion. When a clink comes from the ring, her eyes snap to me.
“There’s something inside,” she whispers like she’s Indiana Jones discovering a coveted treasure.
“You should probably investigate that,” I say, doing my best to sound calm.
“Remi…” My name holds an unasked question as we stare at each other, and I give her a nod.
“Just open it, baby.”
Her fingers fumble with the stopper at first, but she finally pops it out and turns the ceramic ring over until the very real engagement ring falls out into her palm.
“Oh my god,” she gasps. “Remi, it’s beautiful.”
I slide from the booth and kneel beside it.
This whole proposal scenario might be a little unorthodox—though it’s undeniably us—but I’m doing this particular traditional part right.
I take the ring from her shaky hand and hold it between my fingers, which are suddenly steady and sure.
Because I have never been more sure of a single thing in my life than I am about wanting Mindy Espinoza to be my wife.
“Mindy, we met eight years ago today. It may have only been one night, but you changed me. You imprinted yourself on my soul, and I never forgot you.” I pause, gathering my words. “We’ve had a few bumps in the road since then.”
She giggles, and my grin widens as I take her left hand and kiss the finger that will carry this ring. Hopefully. If she says yes. Dear god, what if she turns me down?
I mentally smack myself upside the head and forge on.
“But those bumps have led us down the road to this moment right here. To this moment I ask you for your hand in marriage. I promise to do my best to make sure it’s all smooth sailing from here. And Jesus, I’m mixing my metaphors now.”
She bursts into a fit of giggles. “It’s okay. I get exactly what you’re saying.”
Her smile soothes me, and I poise the ring over the tip of her ring finger. “I love you more than my own life, and I vow to spend the rest of my life making you happy. Will you please be my wife?”
Holding my gaze, she pushes her hand forward until the ring slides home and says the single word that will live in my heart forever.
“Yes.”
Hours later we’re in room 418, the same one we spent our first night in. We’re naked, and my fiancée—I love saying that—is half draped over me in post-coital bliss.
She’s holding up her hand, staring at the engagement ring with a soft smile in the dim light. “I love how intricate the band is,” she says. “It’s vintage, right?”
I twine a lock of her hair around my finger. We lost the ponytail a couple hours ago, and her coppery strands are spilled across my shoulder and the bed.
“It was actually your maternal grandmother’s ring.”
Mindy looks up at me in surprise. “The one she and Aunt Lorraine argued about?”
“Yes, she told me she explained the whole story to you.”
She nods and rests her ringed hand on my chest. “Grandma always told Aunt Lorraine the ring would be hers since she was the oldest daughter, and she even wrote it into her will. But a few months before she died, Grandma told Mom she wanted her to have it. The problem was, she was suffering from dementia by that point and had forgotten she already promised Aunt Lorraine.”
“Lorraine told me the story when I went to talk to her about marrying you.”
“You really did that?”
“I did, since she’s the closest thing you have to a parent. I wasn’t asking permission or anything because I don’t believe in that antiquated shit. It was mostly a courtesy call.”
“What else did she tell you?”
“She said she thought your mother was a bit overcome with grief since she was having issues with your father as well, and that’s why she acted so badly when she found out about the will.”
Mindy nods. “I agree. Mama went through a bout of depression back then, and she was a bit difficult to be around. I finally got her to see a doctor, but even after she got herself regulated on some medicine, she still stubbornly refused to apologize for the ugly things she said to her sister.”
I kiss the top of my fiancée’s head. “If you feel like that gives the ring a negative connotation, I have another one picked out and on reserve at Tiffany. You can wear that one and keep this one as an heirloom.”
Mindy looks at the ring on her finger and then slides her cheek up my chest until she’s looking up at me. “No, I love this one. It looks like something I’d pick out for myself, and I think it deserves a new love story.”
“I couldn’t agree more,” I say.
She drags her hands over the pillowcase, and her brow furrows. “I know these linens aren’t as soft as the ones you have at your place. We can leave and sleep there if you want so you’re not uncomfortable.”
Stroking my hand up and down her back, I shake my head.
“It doesn’t seem to bother me when you’re in my arms. That’s another reason I knew you were the one even after only one night. The sheets, the bedcovers, even the towels… none of it made me itchy or uncomfortable. I just felt… at peace.”
She smirks as I roll her onto her back and cover her. “Life with me is going to be anything but peaceful.”
I chuckle and nudge her legs with my knee. “I wouldn’t have it any other way, baby. Now spread your legs so I can make love to my fiancée again.”
The love of my life slaps my ass as I inch my way inside her tight heat. “Whatever you say, Your Highness.”
Jutting my hips forward, I take her deep in one thrust. “For future reference, wife, I prefer to be called Your Husband-ness.”