“Then hurry,” she chastises, sliding her pants over her hips.
I do as she orders, smiling.
God, I love her.17BradenOne Year Later“Wow, I didn’t expect this,” Ophelia says as she walks into the kitchen.
“Happy Anniversary, Sunshine.”
I watch as surprise softens into happiness on her features, a deep sense of satisfaction and rightness moving over me. Her gaze takes in the candles on the table, the steaks and baked potatoes I’ve fixed along with the salads and she then, slowly, brings her attention back to my face.
“You’ve been cooking.”
“Grilling,” I correct.
She walks to me, and once again I’m struck by the fact that Ophelia is the most beautiful woman I’ve met in my life.
And she’s mine.
“I didn’t realize we had an anniversary,” she murmurs, as she walks into my arms, laying her head against my chest as she hugs me close.
Slowly she pulls back to smile up at me and my heart squeezes in my chest as I see the happiness and love their written plainly on her face. She kisses my chin and then follows an imaginary trail down my neck.
“Exactly one year ago today you agreed to move in with me. Remember?”
“Like I could ever forget, but if I remember correctly, you didn’t ask me. You ordered me to.”
“You like when I order you, Sunshine,” I purr against her ear and I feel her body quiver against me. I groan because that’s all it takes to make me want to bury myself inside of her. That’s all it ever takes. I’m addicted to this woman.
“I can’t deny that,” she agrees. “I’m actually glad you went to all this trouble, I have a surprise for you,” Ophelia announces.
“You got me an anniversary present?”
“Something like that,” she says with a shrug. “I’m hoping though that you’ll be very happy.”
“Ophelia, happiness is something I’ve had since we stood in this very kitchen and you told me to shut up and kiss you.”
“You can still remember that day?” she asks, sounding surprised.
“Sunshine, I remember every minute of every hour since you came into my life. Before you I wasn’t living, I was just existing. You made the world real again for me.”
I watch as tears gather in the corner of her eyes, beginning to trickle out. I bend down to capture one with my lips.
“Braden…”
“Don’t cry, Ophelia. I don’t want to make you cry,” I croon against her skin.
“I’m only crying because I’m happy,” she says, crying harder.
“This is not how I planned tonight,” I respond, laughing a little.
“It’s not?” she says between gentle sobs.
“Well, no man wants his woman to cry when he’s getting to ask her an important question.”
“Question?”
I pull away from her, my hand going down into my pocket, my fingers wrapping around the small box I have stored there. Then, I kneel down on one knee, holding the box out.
“Ophelia Jessup, will you marry me?”
“Braden!” she cries, tears sliding down her face.
“I’m praying to God that means yes.”
“Yes!” she cries, practically falling down into my arms, her hands hooking at my neck her lips finding mine as she kisses me.
Relief hits me so strong that I’m glad I’m not standing. Then, my mind shifts to kissing my woman, holding her close to me and savoring the moment.
When we finally break apart, the air burns my lungs as I drag it back in.
“I love you, Ophelia. I know you said you wanted to take your time in this relationship, but I know this is right. I’ve loved you from that day by the creek when I demanded you move in with me and I love you even more now,” I confess, as I slip the ring on her shaking finger.
“I feel the same exact way, Braden. You’re all I’ve ever wanted in life. You’re perfect.”
I laugh, I can’t help myself. Who would have ever thought a woman as beautiful as Ophelia would feel that way about a scarred, reclusive grouch like me? I can hardly believe it, but I’m damn glad she feels that way.
“Hardly perfect, Sunshine.”
“Well you are to me,” she argues. “All but one thing.”
“What’s that?”
“You made it hard for me to top your anniversary surprise,” she complains.
“You have to top it?” I laugh because she looks so put out with me right now.
“I do today, because it’s important,” she pouts.
“What are you—” I stop talking with Rascal comes walking in, pulling a towel. Lying on the towel is Bogo looking bored. He makes my damn dog pull him everywhere. I don’t know how he managed it. I look at Rascal in disappointment. “Damn it, Sunshine. How did my dog get pussy-whipped by a damn—”
Ophelia slaps her hand against my lips before I can get the word pig out.
“Technically Bogo is a boy. So, maybe, Rascal just has deep, abiding love of…bacon?”
“Whatever,” I mutter, disgusted with my pet.
“Quit looking like that,” Ophelia admonishes.