More Than Need You (More Than Words 2)

“You’re wrong. And that doesn’t mean I would ever marry you, Griffin Reed.” Without skipping a beat, she helps Jamie by cutting another piece of chicken into smaller bits and sliding one onto his baby spoon, even as she rolls her eyes at me. “You know what? His proposal was way more romantic than yours because at least he asked. You had me for a whole year and never once broached the topic. You never cared about anything like that.” She huffs. “You never even thought of it. So that puts him way ahead of you.”

Jamie is about to toss a handful of potato across the table, so I grab him by the wrist and use my napkin to empty his hand. Then I stand and glare at Britta. “Wait here.”

When I spin on my heel and head for the stairs, taking them two at a time, she calls after me. “Where are you going?”

I’m not answering. She’ll see soon enough.

Two minutes later, I return, yank her barstool away from the table until she’s facing me, then I get down on one knee and open the black velvet box in my grip. She gasps when she sees the engagement ring inside.

“I bought this on March sixteenth, almost four years ago. I knew the moment I saw this ring that it was meant for you and that I was meant to put it on your finger.”

Britta presses her hand to her chest, mouth gaping like I’ve stunned her speechless, as she stares at the symbol of love I bought her years ago.

“Marry me.” My heart is thundering, and I wish I had something more flowery and romantic to say. I could give her arguments about why I’m a better man for her. I might even be able to talk sweet and fast and whisk her into bed for an orgasmic glow that lasts a day or two.

It’s all worthless if she won’t admit she loves me. And if she needs proof I’m committed to this—and her—I don’t know what more I can do beyond what I am right now.

“You’re serious?” Her voice is shaking. She looks at me, blinks, looking frozen, stricken. She can’t seem to find her voice, her breath. “You’ve had that…”

“For almost four years, yes.”

“No.” She shakes her head, her gaze bouncing between the ring and my face, like she’s not sure where to focus. “We’d barely begun dating seriously. We’d barely begun…”

“Having sex?” I know that’s what she’s thinking, but she swallows the words down.

“That’s not possible.” She’s shaking her head and looking at me like there must be some terrible mistake.

I’d be offended if I didn’t understand that her accepting what I’m stating as fact means that she has to question everything—each past decision, all the anger she’s carried, and that future she thinks she has planned.

I ease to my feet and pull the receipt from my pocket to set it on the counter so she has no doubt I’m telling the truth. It shows the exact date I purchased the ring and how much it set me back.

She scans it, then blinks at me in total shock.

I come closer, tuck her chin in my grip so I know she’s paying attention to every word I say. “We started dating just before Halloween. I suspected our relationship was serious by Thanksgiving. I knew I was in love with you by New Year’s. You finally trusted me enough to give me your virginity on March first. Yes, I remember the exact date. It changed my life because you changed my life. By the end of that night, I was sure you were it for me. When I saw this ring two weeks later, I bought it. And I waited for you to be a little older and a little more comfortable with me. I wanted you ready to say yes to spending your life with me. I intended to propose to you on my birthday. I had a plan. I might have been a shit, but I wanted to give you the best proposal ever. I knew it was important to you.”

“And we fell a week short.” The words tumble out of her mouth small, eked with pain, and filled with so much sadness.

“Yeah.” I have to bear the responsibility for that. “But right now, you and I have the chance to erase the bad and start over, as a family.” I ruffle Jamie’s hair, then I can’t help myself. I wrap my hand around Britta’s arm, curl it around her elbow, and bring her to her feet against me. “I’m serious, angel. Marry me.”

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Britta doesn’t answer me that night. Or the next morning. I already know she’s going to leave me hanging more than the four days she made Makaio wait. And I’m okay with that for one reason.

She hasn’t said no.

I’m calling that a win for now.

The day is a rush of property showings with clients, paperwork, and phone calls. Keeley taught yoga at the senior center this morning, then whisked Britta and Jamie away for wedding planning and girl time. I want details. I want to know what dress to buy her, what kind of flowers she wants, what flavor of cake—anything that will make our wedding seem more real.

“Are you sure you’re doing the right thing?” my brother asks, approaching the door of my office. “You’ve always been ballsy, but planning Britta a surprise wedding…”

I look up from the late-afternoon sun sliding over the glimmering blue water in the distance. “I think so, but…no. I’m not entirely sure. You got better ideas?”

“If bad karaoke won’t solve it, I’m afraid not,” Maxon admits.

“The way Makaio proposed was so thoughtless it’s almost an insult.” I wish I’d done better, that I hadn’t whipped out the ring in the heat of the moment to prove something. On the other hand, she knows now how serious I am—and always have been. “After what’s happened, she needs to feel valued and loved, like I would crawl across glass, walk through fire, go to the ends of the earth to have her.”

“Of course. And she deserves that. It just seems like there’s a lot of potential to fuck this up.”

“Yep. But is picking the wrong color bridesmaid dress really my biggest problem?”

“It’s not,” he concedes. “The fact you’re forcing her hand is.”

“She has to pick one of us.”

“But you’re not only making her choose a groom, you’re wedging her into a position where she has two weddings on the same day and she’ll have to pick the one in which she’d like to be the bride. That’s messed up, dude.”

I shrug. Maybe. Probably. “But fitting.”

“What about a marriage license? You have to apply for one in person. Together.”

“I’m already working on that. I can start the process online, which I’ve done. I had a client last year whose daughter is a marriage license agent on the island. I’m seeing if I can, you know, work the system.”

“Of course you are.” Maxon shakes his head, wearing a hint of a smile.

“What will you do if she ultimately says no to you?”

“Not an option.”

Maxon shakes his head like I’m a dumb ass. “You need to start thinking about it. Not everything is always going to go your way.”

“I’ve got a hundred ways to make her realize I’m the right man for her. I haven’t even unleashed any of those yet.”

“Uh-huh. I know you. Ninety-nine of those ways involve sex. You can’t do that to her, bro.”

Why not? “How do I reach her if I can’t remind her firsthand about our chemistry?”

“I don’t know. But remember the last time you kissed her? You freaked her out so much that she slapped those papers to relinquish your parental rights in your face. Even if you managed to seduce her, she’s engaged to someone else. She wouldn’t be able to handle the cheating.”

Maybe he’s right. I was hoping that, at some point—soon—Britta would find me irresistible. Once I got inside her and started giving her orgasms, Makaio wouldn’t stand a chance. I wasn’t going to push or rush her. I didn’t think I had to. She wants me, too. I believe that. I feel it.

But Maxon is right. Britta is a stickler for honesty and fairness. I’m not sure she could live with herself. She might even resent me for leading her astray.

“Fuck.”