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“Why?”
I frown. “What do you mean why?”
“Exactly what I mean. You two are in love with each other. What’s the hold-up? This fake engagement thing? It can lead to the real thing, can’t it?”
I open my mouth to tell Caleb I confessed my feelings, but Harper hasn’t said anything…then I close it. As close as we are, I don’t think anybody else needs to know she’s taking her time.
“Yeah?”
I turn in the direction where my car was parked and walk faster to get there, leaving him to hurry after me.
Caleb enters the back seat and gives me the stink eye through the rearview mirror.
“You could have said it was none of my business rather than leaving me there.”
My chest rumbles with laughter, and I stare at his frowning face.
“Is that why you’re seated at the back?”
He nods and crosses his arms. “Yup. I’m at the back, that means you’re my driver today.”
When I don’t respond, he gestures to the wheel.
“Come on. Let’s go. Aren’t you hungry?”
My stomach grumbling keeps me from giving him a witty remark, and when he raises a cheeky brow, I chuckle.
“I will be nice to you because you’re getting married soon. After your honeymoon, be prepared to meet a ton of work on your desk. You were of little help with this project.”
“That’s because I was attending to other duties,” he complains. “And I could say the same about you. Do you know how many meetings I had to attend because you threw yourself into the project and working with Harper? It was like nothing else mattered.”
It felt that way at some point, the corners of my lips tilt upward at the memory.
Caleb snorts.
“You’d better propose to her. I’m sure she’s waiting for a ring, and you’re sitting here, second-guessing yourself. Someone else might take her away, man.”
“They can try,” I growl.
“If I were you, I’d propose on the gala night. It’s less than one week from now, isn’t it? Don’t do it in front of everyone, but let there be enough people around that the news will spread,” Caleb offers.
“That way, you don’t have to deal with people second-guessing and probing into how it happened,” he adds. Then, after a minute he points ahead. “Are you going to drive, or should I?”
***
With a large bouquet of roses in my hand—behind my back—and a bottle of Château Latour in a bag by my side—I knock on the door.
Then I remember the bell and ring it, too. The door opens minutes later, and a sleepy Harper with bed head rubs her eyes.
“Mmm?”
She looks so good when she wakes up.
“Harper?”
She rubs her eyes some more. “Mmm? Who are you?”
I laugh so hard my shoulders shake, and the bouquet almost falls from my hand.
