Across the room, ryan turned his wide smile on X and pressed his hands together, as if pleading. “We kind of already bought the karaoke machine. We can return it tomorrow, if necessary.”
X scowled, then glanced at Kat. “Your house. Your call.”
Kat rolled her eyes up to the ceiling. “I know I’m going to live to regret this, but—”
“Yes!” Kyle and Ryan said in unison and high-fived.
A minute later, the box was set up and plugged in, and the crowd had cleared away from a corner of the room that would serve as the stage. Ryan picked up the mic as Kyle headed in our direction.
“Our first song tonight is very, very special to one of our teammates.” Ryan laid a hand over his heart. “And I know he wants to sing it to all of you.”
“No.” Ben shook his head at Kyle, who now gripped his shoulder and pushed him toward the stage.
“Come on!” several of his teammates called to him. “Let’s hear it!”
“We won’t leave you hanging,” Ryan said as Kyle, dragging Ben with him, reached the stage corner. He turned to the crowd. “How would you like to hear a special serenade from tac and log ops teams? Lang, you’ll join us, right?”
That earned him two middle fingers up from Logan, but I thought I saw the curmudgeonly logistics lead grin ever so slightly.
“Right, then,” Kyle called out. “How about a trio?”
When the opening chords of Never Gonna Give You Up, aka the rickroll song blasted over the speakers, we gave a spontaneous cheer.
Ben scowled at Ryan, but did take the mic offered to him, and Kyle and Ryan each took their own. There was no screen connected to the machine to show the newly bonded teammates the lyrics, but they didn’t need them. All three of them know every single word. And the entire room, even X and Lang, sang along to the chorus.
Hours later,we finally slipped out of the party and snuck upstairs. Ben locked my apartment door behind us and sighed. “Ah, that’s bliss.”
“What is?”
“The quiet.”
“Yeah, I didn’t want to say anything,” I grinned at him, “but you were a little pitchy.”
He growled as he lunged for me, but I slipped out of his grasp and led him to the sofa. I made him sit so I could check the bandage on his temple.
“Don’t screw up Bond’s handiwork,” he said, but he was actually focused on unzipping my dress.
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea for your concussion.”
He grinned. “I’ve been medically cleared to resume my duties as a fiancé.”
“Did you bring a doctor’s note?”
His face fell.
I laughed. “Sometimes you’re too easy.” I held out my hand. “Come on. You can tuck me in.”
In the bedroom, he pulled me into his arms. “I’m surprised you didn’t catch me on a technicality.”
“What technicality?”
“Well, I’m not officially your fiancé until you officially accept my proposal.” He tried my dress zipper again, and this time was successful. “You told me to ask again when I didn’t have a concussion.”
“I did, didn’t I?”
He slid my dress off my shoulders and hung it on the back of the chair. “Ohhh, black and lacy.” He ran his finger over the front of my bra. “Is this new?”
“You know it’s not. Now, when is this proposal coming?”
