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Jude’s eyes narrow. He pulls me on top of him, his hands settling on my waist as he studies my face.

“Talk to me.”

“I am.”

“You’re thinkin’.”

“I do that sometimes.”

“Dangerous.”

I smack his chest, and he almost smiles. Asshole.

“Okay. I just…” I inhale. “I know this isn’t exactly the usual way to do this, and I know we’ve been through a lot and people might talk, and I’m hardheaded and stubborn and I’m a lot and—”

A finger presses against my lips.

“Just say it, Nora.”

I stare at him, my heart trying to beat its way out of my chest. Fuck it.

“I love you, Jude Hawthorne. You’re my home, and…” My voice shakes, and I swallow. “Will you marry me?”

He stares at me, his eyes widening slightly. Oh God. What did I just do?

“Jude?”

Slowly, a smile takes over those full, gorgeous lips. Instead of answering, he slides his hand behind my neck and pulls me down, pressing one soft kiss against my mouth. Then he rolls us over.

“Jude!”

He’s out of bed before I understand what the hell is happening. He takes my hand and pulls me up with him.

“What are you doing?”

Still nothing.

“Grumpy?”

He opens the drawer of his nightstand, and my heart stops. No. There is absolutely no fucking way.

He takes something out, turns toward me and drops to one knee.

My hands fly to my mouth. “Oh God.”

A tiny black box rests in his hand. I stare at it, then at him.

“Jude…”

He still hasn’t said anything, but those green eyes hold an entire universe of things this man will probably never say out loud. And I’ve learned to read them.

He opens the box, and I gasp. A gold ring gleams inside, its round yellow diamond glowing at the center, encircled by seven tiny white diamonds that sparkle like points of light. It’s perfect.

My eyes snap back to his. “When did you get this?”

“Around Christmas.”

I blink. “What?”