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He kisses me, long and slow, then cuddles me close.
“I could go for some coffee,” he says.
“Me, too.” I press my fist to the flat of my opposite hand. “Best two out of three?”
“You’re on.” He mirrors my stands, and I smile.
“Okay, go.”
I land on scissors, he on rock.
I narrow my eyes. “Again.”
This time I’m paper, and he sticks with rock. His smile is smug.
“One more time,” he says.
I end up on rock, and he switches to paper, winning this round.
“Okay, I have to go pour us coffee,” I say and start to get up, but he pulls me back down.
“That’s not what we were playing for,” he says.
“No?” I cock a brow. “Just what did you win, Mr. Cooper?”
He holds up his hand, and between his thumb and forefinger is a diamond ring the size of a baby’s fist.
“You have to marry me,” he says and watches me with bright blue eyes. “You have to make me the luckiest man in the world and marry me.”
“Oh.” I bite my lip and feel my heart fill to bursting with love for this man. “I think we both win in this scenario.”
That grin flashes, and he slips the ring onto my finger.
“Is that a yes?”
“I don’t have a choice. You won.”
“That’s right.” He tugs me against him and holds on tight. “I won.”
* * * *
