34. Weaponized Mom Guilt #2
“What did you…” Her gaze swept over the lights, the flowers, the rugs, and finally Maverick, who was hopping up and down beside me like he’d consumed his body weight in Pixy Stix. “How did you…?”
The moment her eyes met mine, and I saw how overwhelmed she was, everything I wanted to say went out of my head.
Every word I’d practiced. Every sentence I’d carefully planned.
Gone.
“I had a speech,” I told her.
She sniffed softly, wiping beneath one eye. “What happened to it?”
“You smiled at me.”
“And?” More tears were falling down her face.
“I forgot English.”
Her head fell back, and she laughed. Not a polite little laugh. A Felicity laugh. Big and bright and completely uninhibited.
The sound hit me square in the chest.
God, I loved that laugh.
I loved that woman.
I reached for her hand and lowered myself onto one knee.
Her laughter stopped. Her expression changed. The teasing disappeared. And suddenly there was only her. The woman who’d blown into my carefully controlled life and rearranged every damn thing in it.
“Dean.”
I pulled the ring box from my pocket.
Long declarations weren’t my strength. She knew that. Hell, everyone knew that. So I gave her the only thing I had. The truth.
“We tried to have rules once, and that clearly didn’t work. So this has no rules, No conditions. No fine print. Just me making you promises. I’m not going to promise to rescue you, because you don’t need rescuing. And I can’t promise you a perfect life.”
Her fingers tightened around mine, and her lip quivered.
“But I can promise I’ll show up. Every morning. Every bad day. Every emergency.”
Another tear slipped down her cheek.
“For you and Maverick.”
Behind me, Maverick shouted. “That’s me!”
“I promise to keep choosing both of you. Every day, for the rest of my life.” I opened the box, revealing the two-carat solitaire diamond with a platinum setting. “Felicity Foster, will you marry me?”
“Yes.” She nodded.
One word.
That was all it took to change my entire life.
I barely got the ring on her finger before she threw herself at me. I’d just caught her when a second later Maverick launched himself at me.
And there I was.
Dean Lockhart—the man who once believed his job was balancing everyone else’s books, solving everyone else’s problems, and keeping his own feelings safely locked away—was holding the woman I loved in my arms, had a five-year-old climbing over me like a jungle gym, and absolutely no control over anything.
And I’d never been happier.
Felicity stepped back and looked at her new ring.
Then she smiled. “Do you know what this means?”
“That you’re marrying me?” I replied as I set Maverick back down.
“No.” Her smile widened. “I won.”
My brow furrowed. “What did you win?”
“The bet.” She wiggled her hand.
“What bet?”
There was movement behind me and I turned to see my family. My mom, Dad, brothers, and Sadie, Jenna, Blake and Tabby all stepped inside.
I stared at them. Then turned back to Felicity. Then back at the small mob that had answered the Bat Call and joined my proposal.
“What the hell is happening?” I asked.
Felicity was laughing now. “There may have been a betting pool.”
“A betting pool?”
“On when you’d propose,” she clarified.
I looked at my mother, who was looking entirely too pleased with herself.
“Who won?” I asked the group at large.
She raised her hand.
So did Damon.
Of course they did.
I looked around at my family, old and new, then back at my new fiancée laughing so hard she had tears in her eyes again.
“I’m moving,” I said flatly.
Felicity beamed. “No, you’re not.”
“Somewhere no one knows me.”
She shook her head, smiling from ear to ear. “You can’t, you’d miss me too much.”
I caught her around the waist and pulled her against me.
“That’s the problem.” I looked down at the woman who had somehow become my entire world. “I miss you when you’re standing right beside me.”
Her lips parted. Nothing came out. And for once, Felicity Foster had absolutely nothing smart to say.
So I kissed her before she could find something.
THE END