Page 147 of Ask Me Something

Ah, yes, the rules. The best decision I’d ever made to ease her into a relationship with me in the hopes she’d fall in love with me. Considering how lucky they’d been for us, I was all for keeping them.

She traced a pattern on my chest with her finger and I was hard pressed not to flip her back onto the mattress for another round.

“Did you want to keep them?” I asked.

“I do, but I think we need to revise some of them. Especially since some of them would be moot after becoming engaged.”

My heart beat faster at the fact that she was already thinking along those lines. “What would you like to change?”

“Namely, we need to negotiate some Sasha time.”

“And here I thought all the time was Sasha time,” I quipped, traveling south in order to prove my point.

“Let me rephrase then: I want some Mary Beth time.”

I laughed at the memory of our time in Aruba. “Oh, I think Austin would like that, but it won’t be tonight.”

“You’re right. Tonight you’re going to, uh, ensure I forget my name and then do it again.”

I cracked up at her inability to talk dirty, which turned me on more than if she’d been really good at it. “Your wish is my command.”

She wasn’t having it. “Not so fast. What time is it?”

I wasn’t offended that she was looking at the clock again, considering I wanted her answer more than anything. “You have four more minutes.”

She huffed and then lifted that indignant brow of hers. Reaching across me, she snagged the ring out of the box and slipped it on her finger, meeting my eyes. “I did warn you that I’m not very good at being told what to do all of the time, didn’t I?”

I chuckled. Then a peace settled over me that I imagined would only be trumped by our actual wedding day. There had been no one else from the day I’d met Sasha eight years ago. She was my best friend, colleague, and now, finally, she’d become my wife. I kissed her deeply and hugged her tight, never wanting to let go. “I love you.”

“I love you, too. I’ll warn you, though, you’ll need to ask my daddy for my hand. He’s kind of old-fashioned that way.”

I smiled smugly. “I already asked your father and invited him to the next Super Bowl.”

She sat up, completely taken aback. “You got my father tickets to the Super Bowl?”

“Yes, and I asked for your hand in marriage, in case you missed that part, too.” My girl loved her football.

Her cheeks heated. “I didn’t mean it to sound that way.”

“I know you didn’t. But the best part is that I did get an extra ticket for you to accompany him.”

She sat there quiet.

I’d expected a squeal or some sort of excitement. “Honey, you’re kind of freaking me out with the non-reaction here. I did say the words Super Bowl. Plus, technically, you haven’t said yes to me yet on the proposal.”

“Ask me again,” she whispered.

I arched a brow in surprise. Sitting up so that we were eye to eye, I took both of her hands. “Will you marry me, Sash?”

She threw her arms around me with tears in her eyes. “Yes. A thousand times yes. But don’t you think for one moment there is anything else better about tonight than you asking me to become your wife. Not the ring, not the romance, and not the Super Bowl tickets.”

I kissed her softly, not realizing until this moment how much I’d needed that confirmation from her. She recognized that underneath my pleasing nature was an insecurity that had silently needed to know she wanted to be with me despite all of the rest. “You must really love me.”

She smirked. “I do. And thank you.”

“For what?”

She pulled me down onto the bed and snuggled in close, putting her newly-adorned hand on my chest so that we could both survey the sparkle of her ring. “You think I don’t know how you’ve managed around my anxiety with this proposal and kept me from panicking, but I do.”

I swallowed past the lump in my throat. “You’re okay with that?”

She scooted up and kissed me soundly. “To have someone love and know me the way you do is better than okay. It’s the freaking fairy tale.”

I grinned at that sentiment. “Agreed, although our happily ever after will be a little bit naughtier.”

She gave me a wicked grin. “Oh, I’m counting on it.”