Page 252 of ClickBack

She draws back first and touches my cheek. “You look surprised.”

“I feel pretty fucking good.”

That makes her laugh harder. I kiss her and forget the ring until the corner of the box catches between us.

“Wait.” I look down.

“You might want to finish,” she says.

“Give me your hand.”

She does. The ring slides on, and she watches it settle with her other hand against my chest. I spent weeks deciding what to put on that finger. Now I keep looking between her face and her hand, trying to take in both.

“It’s beautiful,” she says.

“So are you.”

She touches my face again. “You are, too.”

I kiss her palm. “Say that again when I’m your husband.”

The recognition comes slowly. Then she laughs and covers her mouth.

“You remember that?”

“Every word.”

“You cannot bring that into a proposal.”

“You already said yes.”

She comes closer, shaking her head, and I get another kiss. Her ring touches my neck. I had no idea I would notice that, the small unfamiliar pressure beneath fingers I know. I close my eyes and hold her until she eases away.

“Who knows?” she asks.

“Nobody.”

“Your mother?”

“Not yet.”

“Rae?”

“No.”

She looks relieved, and I’m glad I trusted what I knew about her. I could have filled this parking lot with people who love us. I wanted her to get her answer out before anybody else had a feeling about it.

“Graves knows we needed privacy,” I tell her. “He might have put it together.”

“We’ll tell them tomorrow.”

“Whatever you want.”

She looks at her ring, then back at me. “Tonight I want to be engaged without answering questions about a wedding.”

“We can do that.”

“Can we go home?”