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Chapter 5
Rachel Foster
Rachel’s eyesflashed around the room. A burst of energy seemed to come out of nowhere. Alex and Rhona had left the table and were now standing by the tree, their heads bent like they were sharing a secret.
Isa and Merina were plucking roses from the vases dotted around the warehouse and comparing them like they were trying to choose the prettiest ones. Reese was talking to Tag, his expression as stoic as ever, but his eyes trailed to Rachel for the briefest moment.
What the…?
Then Tag faced her, his expression of determination was so animalistic that her heart lodged in her throat. Everyone in the background faded away as he stalked toward her.
Tag.
She’d fallen hard for him at a time she wasn’t looking. He’d helped her overcome her timidity, helped her ask for what she wanted. What she needed. What started out as a sexual exploration had morphed into head-over-heels true love. As cliché as it sounded in her own head, she couldn’t help thinking that whenever she stared into his eyes, she saw her future reflected in them.
He approached, a sly smirk on his firm mouth.
Her answering smile erased when his lips lowered to steal a kiss guaranteed to make her feel like the only woman in the room.
“Love you, Dimples.”
She’d never tire of hearing that nickname. “I know.”
He pulled back, his smile still there, but smaller than before. More careful. More cautious. Oh, he was definitely up to something.
“I have a question for you.”
“Okay.” Her hands gripped his substantial biceps to ground herself for whatever he was about to say.
“Will you marry me?”
“Déjà vu.” She held up the hand where her engagement ring sat. “Didn’t we cover this already?”
Tag’s expression was suddenly serious. “I mean now.”
Her mouth parted softly. “Now?”
He nodded across the room where Rhona stood in front of the tree where Alex had left her, a leather-bound Bible in her grip. Reese and Eli were arranged side by side on Rhona’s right, their hands formally clasped in front of them. Merina and Isa were standing to Rhona’s left, perfect single red roses in their hands.
Before Rachel could process what was happening, her hulk of a fiancé lifted his cellphone and pressed a button. His eyes on hers, phone to his ear, he said, “Come in.”
The warehouse door slid aside and her mother and father came in, slipping off their coats to hang them on the rack just inside the door. Tears pricked Rachel’s eyes as they grinned back at her. They were dressed in their finest outfits—dad in a dark suit and tie and mom in a pale blue pantsuit. Her mom blew kisses and her dad winked and Rachel felt a tear slide down her cheek.
“Don’t cry, dear.” Her mom stole a quick kiss to Rachel’s temple and patted Tag’s cheek.
“Rhona is recently ordained.” Tag cupped Rachel’s face with one broad palm. “I’ve had this planned for damn near a month. It’s not traditional. It’s not big. Exactly what you asked for.
“Tarzan.” Her watery eyes caused Tag’s gorgeous face to blur. She had asked for simple. She didn’t want a big affair. She didn’t want a million gifts. She didn’t want the fuss of a big, fancy to-do. Tag had argued at the idea of a small wedding. He’d said that when that day came, he wanted big. He wanted extravagant. To properly celebrate all they were to each other, he’d argued for a proverbial circus.
“But this isn’t what you want,” she whispered, turning toward him.
“I want you, Dimples. Forever. I don’t care how it happens.”
She climbed as high as she could to hug him and he bent and met her the rest of the way. “I’ll make it up to you on our honeymoon,” she whispered into his ear.
“Damn straight.” She heard the teasing sensuality in his voice before he let her go. And then she saw that he was as overcome with emotion as she was. His eyes were damp, his nostrils flared.
“Dimples. You still haven’t said yes.”
