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“Sorry, mate,” the man cries, and I blink with astonishment as he takes the hand of a woman and they run off laughing, straight into a waiting car.
“Oh, my, God, was that Harry Styles?”
“Who?”
“HarryStyles?Singer, actor, gorgeous man who wears plaid pants?”
“You like plaid pants?”
“What was—?” I crane my head to look up only to find we’ve stopped in front of a wedding chapel. “Do you think he gotmarried?”
“Why don’t we get married?” Mase asks.
Mase
Idon’tknowwhatmakes me say it, but as soon as the words pop out of my mouth, it doesn’t sound like that bad of an idea.
Me and Fiona. Fiona and me.
This gorgeous, funny, smart womanmine? Forever? I’m too practical to believe that, but at least mine for a while. A long while. Maybe a forever while. Stirlings don’t get divorced.
I just proposed, so I shouldn’t be thinking of divorce.
“You want to do what?” Fiona laughs until I set down the bags and drop down to one knee. Then her laughter stops abruptly, and her expression is a mixture of horror and terror and… hope? Her blue eyes are wide and her mouth, still wearing the lipstick, rounds into a perfect O. “Mase, what are you doing?”
“I’m not sure,” I admit. The sidewalk is hard and covered with more grime than I’ve ever experienced, but I’m kneeling in front of a woman and it’s not a game. At least not for me. None of this night has been pretend for me. It’s more real than I’ve felt in a long time. “What do you think I’m doing?” I grab her hand with the unpainted nails and pull off the red ring.
I think the jeweler said it was a carnelian, but I can’t be sure. It would never be my first choice of a ring to propose with, but neither would this situation.
But somehow it feels right.
“You can’t be serious about this. It’s—we’re...” Fiona stops talking as I slide the ring back onto her finger. “Mase...no...”
“Fiona Alice Stark, will you do the honour of becoming my bride?” I point to the chapel. “In there? Right now?”
“Now?” she echoes.
“No time like the present.” How can I sound so calm when my heart is threatening to bounce out of my chest? I’ve never, ever been this scared. This is worse than my first at bat in the majors, the first time I took the field at second, the first time…
All of those times I was where I was supposed to be.
“I don’t know what to say,” she stammers.
“Well, that’s a first tonight,” I tease, and she laughs. It’s the sound of it that has me standing to wrap my arms around her waist. “Say yes.”
“I don’t even know you,” she cries.
“You know me better than most, and that’s only after tonight,” I say truthfully.
“I haven’t even kissed you!”
“Would you like to kiss me?” I tip up her chin with a gentle finger.
She nods. “If I’m going to marry you, I think I’d better at least kiss you first,” she whispers.
My heart gives a thump of anticipation. I’ve kissed many, many women, but this is like the first time. This is the one I’ll measure the rest by. This is the one I’ll never forget.
This feels momentous, so, of course, I have to make light of it. “I better warn you,” I say. “You might not want to marry me after I kiss you.”
