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“Coming up with ideas and plans is never the problem,” she says softly. “Convincing other people to get on board is.”
“You mean, putting your ideas out there to be judged is,” I say, one brow arched. “Because it took no convincing at all for them to get on board. But they’d never even heard the idea.”
She slowly nods, her cheek rubbing against the pillowcase. “Yeah. I need a spokesperson. Someone who can understand what I want to do and why and can communicate that to other people with passion and charm and patience.”
I feel a swirl of fuck yes go through me. We are going to be an unstoppable team. “It seems you do. But I know a guy.”
She smiles. “I texted Mason and Lauren before dinner to tell them I’m taking a job with you. Lauren just texted me back while you were still downstairs with Jonah. She’s thrilled for me. And she said she thinks the farm plan is amazing.”
“It is amazing.”
Abigail shakes her head. “It’s only amazing if it gets done. Otherwise, it’s just an idea. Maybe a good one, but still just a thought. You sold them on it. And paid for it. You made it real.”
I take her hand, linking our fingers on top of the duvet. “All I did was say the idea out loud. I used your words. Your explanations, descriptions, and statistics.” I give her a little grin. “It wasn’t hard. I’ve literally been talking since I was one.”
She laughs softly. “Torin, I appreciate your attempt at humility, but I’ve known you long enough now to know that when you talk it’s different than when other people do.”
I feel warmth spread through my chest. I stroke my thumb across the back of her knuckles. “Well, it’s very easy to be enthusiastic about you and your work.”
Her expression is soft as she smiles at me. “I still can’t believe you did this.”
“It was supposed to be a grand gesture,” I say. “It had to really matter.”
“It does.” She wets her lips. “But why did you need a grand gesture?”
“I was hoping the farm would help you say yes to my third proposal.”
“Third?”
“Your grandma’s porch was one. I asked you again in a text.”
She nods, then blows out a breath. “It would have made me say yes.”
I lean in further. “You know, it occurs to me, that you didn’t actually say those words to me.”
Her eyes widen. Then her voice drops even though we’re very much alone. “I did say…both P words.”
Heat jabs me low and hard. “Yes, you sure fucking did,” I say gruffly. I’m semi-hard again remembering. “And I’m going to hear them again.” That isn’t a question.
Her eyes widen slightly. And she wets her lips.
“But I’m talking about the other four words.”
“Which ones?”
“You said you were proposing to me, but you never said, ‘will you marry me?’”
Her pupils dilate and her lips part. She clears her throat. “No. I guess I didn’t, did I?”
“So…” I pull my other hand out from under the pillow and hold my palm out.
Her eyes widen and her gaze flies from the object I’m holding to my eyes.
The ring I’m holding looks exactly like the one my mother wears.
“This is the Princess Ring,” I tell her. “It matches the tiara you’ll wear. And the crown I wear.”
Her eyes are on mine, not on the stunning ring that is probably worth hundreds of thousands of dollars. I don’t actually know. It’s always been in my family and has never been appraised as far as I know.
