Her Secret Life

“Yes.” She kind of chuckled, but her palms were sweating and she really just wanted this part to be over.

He held up the box. “You want me to ask you to marry me?”

“Dork,” she said, trying for another laugh that failed miserably. “Open it.”

He did. Saw the plain gold wedding band there, clearly a man’s ring, and looked back at her.

“I’m asking you to marry me, Michael,” she said. “And could you please say yes fast so that you can hold me for real and I can lose this day in your arms? That’s the only thing that’ll make it all okay.”

He blinked. And blinked again. He looked uncomfortable as hell. Afraid of rejection—before he did the unthinkable, Kacey sat on his lap. Scooting her bottom closer to his fly, she wiggled and planted a kiss on his lips that she hoped would blow any sane man away.

He kissed her back. Thoroughly. “Yes, I’ll marry you,” he said. “I’ll stay with you in Beverly Hills and commute to work, I’ll do whatever you need, Kacey. I just have one request.”

“What’s that?”

“Don’t ever let your light go out, Kace. Don’t ever think you shine too bright or overshadow anything. You were meant to be who you are, and you light the way for the rest of us. Without you, we’d be in darkness.”

She wanted to say something pithy and smart. To follow it with a chuckle like Doria might do. Instead, she started to cry. She wrapped her arms around Michael’s neck, buried her face against his so special jaw and begged him to never stop loving her.

“Never,” he said, standing with her in his arms.

“Where are we going?”

“To bed,” he told her, pointing to his computer screen. “My brother just flashed his message up.”

Home safe and sound, Miss Hamilton. My father has your keys. And Mom wants to know if she can start planning the wedding.

Two boxes popped up.

Kacey clicked Yes.

* * * * *