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My gaze roams over the luggage. I cup my mouth and stifle a laugh behind my palm. There’s a keychain that says "My Daddy is #1" hanging from the bottom where the two zippers meet. I got it for James when we were in Barcelona at a little hole-in-the-wall after one of the natives kept referring to him as Papá, thinking he was my father. I thought it was hysterical that he loved it and put it on his suitcase.

I glance over my shoulder at James, shaking my head. "Why do you put up with me again?"

His eyes glitter with amusement. "I could count all the ways I love thee, but I fear it would take centuries to complete."

"You're a riot, James."

I reach for the other suitcase and kneel on the floor to unzip it, then throw the top back. A whoosh of air blows past my lips as the contents appear in front of me.

One content, actually.

Shaking my head, I reach for the yellow Post-it note stuck in the center with Natalie's handwriting.

You're welcome.

I giggle while tapping the back of the sticky part with my index finger. "She's such an asshole. Why am I not surprised?"

I stand up and hand James the note. He squints, then his nostrils flare and I watch as an amused smile moves across his face.

"I can't believe she did that."

"Did she know you were going to propose?"

"No." He huffs out a laugh still looking at the note. He drops his arm and raises his eyes to mine. "I didn't trust her not to tell you. She did say that if you didn't come back with a ring on your finger to consider my brownstone torched. Honestly, she had a crazed look in her eyes. I wouldn't put it past her. Women are mental."

I raise a brow. "And yet you just put a ring on one of them."

The corners of James's lips curl into the cutest, most heart melting smile I've ever seen on a man. He drags an arm around my neck and leans over to give me a bear hug.

"The best one," he says, and a cheesy smile lights up my face.

"I need a shirt to wear," I say, pulling back.

James looks up and down the length of my naked body. "I think you look fine just the way you are."

"I can't call Natalie without a shirt on." I hold up my left hand. "And I want to tell her we're engaged." I faux pout.

James fluffs my hair. I realize he hasn't stopped smiling at me since I said yes. Butterflies create designs with their wings around my heart. I wish I would've said yes sooner.

I wish… I decide right then and there to let go of my past decisions. I got the man. Why harp on the past when I can focus on the future?

"Technically, you can since she didn't pack you any clothes."

"True… How about I take it off the moment I hang up with her?"

"Deal."

Once my breas

ts are covered and James has a pair of shorts on, he tends to my tattoo with soap and water, then applies lotion. There's a little tightness and some burning, but he assures me it won't last more than a couple of days. He refills our flutes with champagne while I fix up our makeshift bed in front of the fire. It's toasty and picture-perfect to cozy up next to my fiancé for the rest of the night.

My fiancé.

"James." He places the bottle back in the ice bin then looks at me. "You're my fiancé." I don't know why I say it, it's not like he obviously doesn't know. James studies me with a peculiar look in his eyes, and a blush fills my cheeks. I guess I'm just giddy as hell that I blurt it out.

"And you're mine."

"We're getting married." I state the obvious like a fool. James seems more amused than anything.

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