Billionaires Runaway Bride

She rolled her eyes. “Think what you want.” She started up the path to her house but turned around halfway there. “You sure you’re ready to be a fiancé?”

I nodded. “Yes.”

“As long as you’re sure.”

“I am. I’ll call or text you later.”

She nodded and turned away. I could have sworn I heard her say, “Good luck,” but I wasn’t quite sure. I hoped she didn’t think she was losing me as a friend. Nothing could get in the way of our history

, but I wasn’t going to press her about it. I’d just have to show her she’d never lose me.

When I got to Rachel’s, she made me wait outside for almost thirty minutes before she came out. And it was well worth the wait. She wore a sexy red dress with matching lipstick. Something primal stirred inside of me. Yes, this was definitely the right decision.

I went to kiss her on the lips, but she moved away from me. “I don’t want my lipstick to smudge. It’s still setting.”

I led her to the car and got a glimpse of her underwear beneath her dress.

I had to take a minute after closing the car door to collect myself. Maybe we could finally have sex after the proposal. I’d love to remove that dress from her body as soon as possible.

When we got to the restaurant, we were only seated on the balcony for a few minutes before Rachel wanted to go inside after claiming the wind was messing up her hair. I should have thought of that. After generously tipping the server and offering to pay for drinks for a couple that we relocated, we were able to get a spot overlooking the pier from the dining room. The staff quickly cleaned the table and reset it for us.

“You should have got this table to start,” she said, looking out over the pier. “It’s perfect in here, and I don’t have to ruin my three hundred dollar blowout.” I didn’t remind her that I’d been the one to pay for the blowout.

I took her hands in mine. “Anything for you.”

The rest of the meal went off without a hitch. I ordered the most expensive bottle of champagne and we polished it off before our entrees came: a filet mignon for me and a house salad for her. We didn’t have dessert; Rachel didn’t care for sweets, and I was so nervous I wanted to get the proposal out of the way so I could spend the rest of the evening with my new fiancée.

After paying the check, I excused myself to go to “the bathroom” and asked Rachel to meet me downstairs at the entrance.

“I can wait here,” she said. “I don’t want to stand there like a moron waiting for you.”

I glanced at our server. “I think they need to clear the table for the next people.”

“They can wait,” she said, pouting her red lips.

I didn’t want to push the issue since it might alert her to something going on. So I left the table, went downstairs to retrieve the flowers, then came back up and handed the bouquet to her.

“Oh!” she said and smiled. “Flowers for me?”

I opened my hand to her. “Let’s take a walk out on the pier.”

The sun was setting over the horizon, and the lights looked perfect. Rachel admired her roses and cradled them in her arms like a baby.

“Were these lights always here?” she asked. “I don’t remember seeing them before.”

“No,” I said. “I put them up.”

“You did?”

“Yes. I wanted to make this moment romantic and special for you since you deserve the perfect memory.”

“Memory of what?”

I dug my hand into my pocket and retrieved the ring box that contained a five-carat diamond ring. I dropped down to one knee and held out the box to Rachel.

Her mouth opened in a wide ‘O,’ and she quickly covered it with her free hand.

“Rachel, I know it’s only been a year, but I can’t stand another minute of not being engaged to you. I’ve known from the first time I saw you that I wanted you to be my wife. Will you marry me?”