Page 144 of All for Love

“Lutheran Jell-O,” she gasps.

“With fertility marshmallows,” I wheeze.

We’re laughing so hard we can’t breathe, and somehow, we’re still moving together. All that willpower to last has worked. I am Sting-ing the hell out of this.

It turns out laughter and love and complete absurdity are the best aphrodisiacs in the world, because this time I last long enough for Dahlia to fall apart under me, shouting my name and something that sounds suspiciously like “God bless Lutheran Jell-O.”

After, we lie there tangled and sweaty and grinning like lunatics.

She traces my jaw. “Operation Baby is amazing.”

“I love Operation Baby.”

I pull a ring out from under my pillow. “How do you feel about Operation Wife? I love you more every single day, Dahlia. Will you marry me?”

“I already asked you, remember?” she says, then snorts when she sees my shocked expression and waves her finger. “Yes, I’ll marry you,” she hurriedly adds.

I slide that ring on her finger and kiss her.

“I love you more every single day too,” she says. “Do you have another round in you?”

“Always.”