Work Me Up

Also, I can’t lie, some of the courses like the duck pâté? I’d prefer Antonio’s casual sandwiches back in the garage over it.

But for the most part, the food is delicious, the wine even better. Which is why I can’t figure out why, by the end of the meal, Antonio looks so pensive again. So lost in thought and gazing off into space.

It worries me. The same way that intense look he gave me in the car worried me earlier. “Is everything okay?” I ask, biting my lower lip. I nudge his arm, trying to get him to look at me again.

But he keeps staring away, and it makes my heart beat a little bit faster.

“Antonio…”

Then he turns toward me again with the same fiercely loving expression he wore in the car earlier today, when we stopped outside the vineyard. “I wanted to do this differently,” he says, and something tightens behind my navel, even as my pulse skitters in my veins.

Do what differently? I want to ask, except the words stick in my throat, and I can’t quite make my mouth form them.

“I had a whole plan,” he says. Then he cracks a faint smile, as if to reassure me.

But my heart won’t stop racing. Because I don’t know what’s going on, or what he’s talking about right now.

“You weren’t the only one planning something big for our anniversary.” He winks. “But you’ve got a whole road trip for us, so that beats my original idea. So, here it goes anyway.”

“Here what goes?” I demand, confusion warring with adrenaline in my veins.

But then he’s pushing back his chair, sinking to the ground beside me on one knee, and now I can’t even hear my own thoughts, let alone my pulse or my breath, which suddenly feels trapped inside my chest, because I can’t even make myself inhale.

“Selena Brown,” he says, in a voice that is both unfamiliar and so, so familiar. Because he sounds choked up, and I’ve never heard Antonio choked by emotion before. But I recognize it, because that’s how I feel right now, too. “Ever since the day I met you, I’ve known I wanted to make you mine. Over the last year, you’ve made me happier than I have ever felt, in my entire life.”

He quirks a little smile. “I was going to do this at our sunset spot, with a whole bunch of champagne and all, but… Like I said.” He winks. “This is better.”

Then he draws a small, square velvet box from deep within one of his pockets.

And I really can’t breathe now.

“Antonio…”

He reaches up to take my hand. My left hand, which trembles in his, my fingertips shaking so hard it’s a wonder he can hang on to me at all. “Selena, will you make me the happiest man in the world?” As he speaks, he pops open the top of the box.

Nestled inside the dark blue velvet sits the prettiest ring I have ever seen in my life. It’s a simple princess cut diamond, but big and bright, with so much fire it flashes in my eyes as I gaze at it now.

Or maybe those are the tears that have started to form along my lash line. Or some combination of both. I clamp my lips together, hard, because if I don’t, I’m going to start crying before he even finishes speaking.

“Will you be my wife?” he asks, those dark eyes of his locked on mine.

“Yes,” I mouth. The word comes out voiceless, not even a sound. “Yes,” I repeat, louder. “Yes!” I practically shout, and it reminds me of that time in his car, when we first drove around the parking lot, and he shouted that he loved me.

It also reminds me that there are other people here, because as soon as I shout it, a smattering of applause breaks out. We glance up to see the few other patrons and staff in the restaurant applauding. Then I glance back at Antonio, just as he slides the ring onto my finger.

It’s a perfect fit. Just like him.

I grab his hands and pull him to his feet, standing alongside him too. My arms wrap around his neck as he bends to kiss me, his lips sinking into mine, searing hot. We break apart, and I’m laughing, blushing, my cheeks bright red.

“Damn it,” I say, swatting his chest. Then I leave my hand sprawled there, so I can study the diamond up close.

“What?” His eyes sparkle with amusement. “Are you mad at me for something?”