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Chelsea pinched my shoulder hard enough to sting, then grabbed the box from me. “Yes. My answer is yes. And don’t you dare even joke about taking this back.”
I kissed her, and only stopped because I felt Luna watching. “Does it count if he didn’t ask?” she whispered when we pulled apart.
“What?” Chelsea asked.
“He never said, ‘will you marry me.’ I don’t think it counts.”
“The ring is what matters,” I said. I gestured to the lights and scenery around us. “And the act.”
“Hmm,” Chelsea worked her lips to the side, staring at the box. “The little one kinda has a point. You need to say the words.”
“Marry me,” I demanded.
Chelsea waggled her finger and Luna shook her head.
“Manners, daddy.”
“I want you to marry me.”
“Ask her. Don’t tell her.”
I sighed. “Will you marry me?”
Chelsea put her finger to her chin like she needed to think about it.
I groaned and opened the box for her, sliding the ring on her finger. “You will.”
“I will,” she agreed. “In grumpiness and in health.”-THE END
