This was not how he’d imagined this going.
Then again, he’d planned his proposal to Nicole. He’d planned it so perfectly it had gone off without a hitch. Perfectly scripted. Passionless. Predictable. Fake. Just as fake as his marriage had been. This was real.
And there was no way in hell he could let this go.
He reached for her hand and enfolded it in his, gently stilling her trembling fingers against his palm. He took a deep breath. He’d planned a careful speech, too, every word precisely chosen…but that speech had been for a woman like Nicole. And Brianna deserved better.
As real as she was, she deserved the real Thomas.
“I’m an asshole,” he blurted out. “I’m a blundering, stupid idiot. I came into your life and put us both in a compromising position that could have screwed up your career and mine. I have no clue how to tell you how beautiful I find you without repeating the same thing until I sound like a recording, because I suck at flattery. I came stomping into your family and started swinging around like I had the damnedest clue what I was doing, when I know as much about what to do with a kid as I do with a nuclear reactor, and with pretty much the same results. I’ve gotten a black eye and a broken nose all within a week of each other, but I’ve never been happier.”
She pressed her knuckles to her mouth, her lips twitching. “Like mother, like son. At least it wasn’t your eye this time.”
He chuckled. “I should start wearing padded armor.” He shook his head. “No. Scratch that. I’m tired of wearing armor around you, Brianna. I’m tired of keeping you out. And even if I’m an asshole, and an idiot, and a lot of other stupid things…I love you. I love you, I love your kids, and I want to be a part of your family. A real part of your family. I couldn’t stand to even think about buying a house in Vegas, because it wouldn’t be a home without you in it.”
She was looking at him again, her expression stricken. His heart inched a little further south, relocating a few ribs down, somewhere around the spatter of blood spots staining his shirt. Hell. She wasn’t going to make this easy, was she?
Fine. He’d do this the hard way, and for once he wouldn’t hold back.
“I understand if you don’t love me. And you don’t have to give me an answer now, whether it’s yes or no. I know you probably need time to think. And if you don’t want me around your kids that much, I understand. I know they come first. And I…I’m not trying to replace Michael—”
“Shut up,” she said. Her voice cracked. She pressed her fingertips to his lips, her skin stained with his blood. “You talk too much, you know that?”
“I might have heard it once or twice before,” he said wryly.
She smiled. He could barely see the hazel of her eyes past the reflective sheen of tears. “You can’t replace Michael,” she said, and his gut knotted up tight. He braced himself, started to let go of her fingers—but she held on tight. “I don’t want you to. I was never looking for a replacement for Michael. I never wanted you as a substitute for him. Yes, I’ll always love him for who he was.” She hesitated. “But I also love you for who you are.”
Thomas’s heart stopped. Either he was hearing things past the throbbing in his skull, or she’d just said she loved him. Him, not some fictionalized expectation of who he should be. Not the man Nicole had wanted or the slick, smiling asshole he pretended to be for work.
Him.
He let out a whoop—then groaned and clutched at his face. “Ow.”
“Idiot,” she said, then laughed and cupped his cheek gently. “I love you, Thomas. But everyone’s staring at us, and if you don’t ask me now I might black your other eye for Zach’s sake.”
“Ask…? Oh!”
He’d almost forgotten the shoe he was clutching like a lifeline. Brianna loved him, and that had eclipsed everything else. He let go of her hand and fumbled the ring free from the shoe; he’d wedged it on too tight, and with his swollen fingers he couldn’t get a grip on it.
“Let me,” she said with patient amusement.
She took the shoe from him and gently slid the ring free. He closed his fingers around
hers and captured the ring against her palm, looking up at her. Her golden hair was like a halo, wild as she was, framing that lovely smile that he’d do anything to keep on her face.
“Brianna Faulk,” he said, and hoped to God he wouldn’t trip on the words that meant more to him than any words in his life. “Will you marry me?”
Her fingers curled into a fist inside his. “If you marry me, you marry my kids.”
“There’s nothing I want more.”
“Then…” Oh God, was she trying to kill him? That pregnant pause nearly turned his heart to stone, that unreadable look in her eyes—before she broke into another smile, so brilliant it filled him up with all the love, the life, he’d been missing for so many years. “Yes,” she said. “Yes, I’ll marry you.”
A sudden chorus of cheers, shouts, and catcalls cut off Thomas’s response. He startled, blinking and looking around. He’d forgotten they were on a public bus surrounded by people. Those people were grinning now, laughing. A burly-looking man with a hardhat in his lap gave him a thumbs-up. An older woman, her nut-brown skin wizened and grooved, favored him with a kindly nod, her dark eyes gleaming.
“Well, go on, young man,” she said, her voice creaking and whispery. “Kiss the girl.”
He laughed. God, he couldn’t even feel the pain anymore. He swiped a hand across his mouth. Once. Then twice. Finally, it came back clean. “Gladly.”