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“They were a flash mob,” Riggs explained in the tone of a person who had already explained this multiple times but was prepared to continue explaining it for the rest of his existence. “It was supposed to be a distraction so the team could get into the restaurant across the street from your office to plant some cameras—”

“I don’t care! You knew Kev was filling in as my receptionist that week! And you know he lost almost the entire crop of citrus fruits at our homestead during the last Horn of Glory blight!” Carter said furiously. “When the lemons started dancing, Kev started sobbing right there in my doorway. Scared my patients to death. Mr. Lampman thought he was hallucinating and began moaning that the end-times had come.”

“That was a regrettable oversight,” Riggs admitted. “But—”

“Was the part where they were singing ‘Marry You’ also an oversight?” Carter interrupted. “Hmm?”

“Well. I mean…” I could practically hear Riggs’s mental wheels spinning. “Sort of? The dance troupe Hux found only knew a few songs. It was ‘Marry You,’ or ‘Happy Birthday,’ or ‘Feliz Navidad.’ We felt this was the best option.”

“We,” Carter said witheringly. “You mean you, Champ, and the other brilliant minds at Champion Security.”

Oh, fuck. Riggs was one of Champ’s people.

I sucked in a breath as hurt and fury warred in my stomach. I was going to kill the man.

“Shhhh,” Riggs insisted. “Quinn will hear you! Look, I didn’t expect Kev would take pictures. Or send them to Vienna Goodley. Or that Vienna would post them on the Thicket Happenings Facebook page—”

“Uh-huh.”

“And I really hadn’t expected the Beautification Corps to throw us that surprise party.”

I bit my lip and restrained a snort. Ava and Cindy Ann got around, man. But Jesus. Poor Carter.

“A surprise party,” Carter shot back, not even bothering to be quiet, “to celebrate a nonexistent engagement, based on a question that you didn’t ask, thus making me the first human to suffer through the world’s most ridiculous marriage proposal dance number only to not be proposed to.”

The silence after he spoke was louder than his shouting had been.

“Wait,” Riggs said. “Wait. Did you… I mean, you didn’t actually… want me to propose. Did you?”

“No,” Carter scoffed. “Obviously not. We’ve only been together a few months. You’ve never had a relationship that lasted longer than a few nights. You’re not the proposing type.”

I wasn’t sure who he was trying to convince, but I was pretty sure it wasn’t working on any of us.

Riggs was silent again for a long moment. I grabbed my tablet and snuck back to the doorway to catch a glimpse of his face, but I couldn’t. I envied Herc’s spot on the floor.

Finally, Riggs said, “Carter? I love you. I mean, I really love you.”

“Yeah,” Carter said instantly. “I know. Just… let’s drop it. Whatever the fuck we’re doing here, let’s just do it and leave. I have patients.”

“I assumed you’d want to wait a year or two before getting engaged. Make sure you really like living so far away from Nashville in that giant mansion your grandfather bought. Make sure you like living with me.”

“Good. Great,” Carter insisted more desperately. “I didn’t think for a minute that you were actually serious. Obviously. I… I wasn’t fooled.”

Riggs’s voice warmed. Gentled. “I also figured you’d want something fancy. Something a fuckton more memorable than a singing banana—”

“Lemons,” Carter corrected. Then he cleared his throat, clearly mortified, and yelled, “Excuse me? Mr. Taffet? Could we start? I need to get back to work!”

Riggs sighed.

“Yes! Coming!” I called. I tucked my tablet under my arm.

On impulse, I darted back and grabbed a binder stuffed with samples from one of my previous clients, along with a giant black Sharpie.

“Sorry about that. Here we are!” I took a seat at the table, and the other two did the same.

Riggs watched Carter with puppy dog intensity, but Carter refused to meet his eyes.

I understood Carter’s position on a deep, deep level. Riggs seemed like a nice guy, and his love for Carter was clear, but there was nothing like being used for an op to remind you of where you fit in a man’s priority list.

The men of Champion Security needed to be taught a lesson, starting immediately.

I clapped my hands once. “Before we start, I have to tell you, I’ve been in this business a long time, and I thought I’d seen it all, but hearing Champ speak about your love for your fiancé has been so inspiring, Mr. Riggs.”

Riggs blinked. “It… has?”

“Oh, yes. He tells me you’re a true romantic. Not many men are as eager for commitment as you are. You’re a lucky man, Dr. Rogers.”

Carter lifted one eyebrow. “Aren’t I just?”

Riggs’s booted heel tapped the carpet anxiously. “You know, Mr. Taffet, about the wedding… Carter and I have decided to wai—”

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