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“How’s my favorite girl?” he asks as he walks toward me, his arms outstretched.
“She’s good.” I pat my growing belly before he wraps me in a tight hug.
“I meant you,” he laughs against my hair. “How are you, mama?” I shrug and he pulls away. I let out a small, whiny groan.
“I’ve been craving carrots and mustard all day,” I say, and he grimaces.
“Mustard is so fucking gross,” he breathes as he runs his hand through his hair. “I brought you some more.”
“I knew there was a reason I loved you.” I pat his chest and step around him. He catches my wrist, and I look back, finding him with his brow raised. “Among another million reasons.”
He huffs out a breath before kissing the back of my hand. We walk hand in hand to the kitchen, and when I see the table, I pause. My eyes slide to him, but his face is blank.
“I know I said I’d give you my last name first, but she had other plans,” he says, resting his hand on my swollen stomach.
“You’re not proposing to me like this, Ezra.” I throw my hand at the ring box sitting on the table.
“You seriously want me down on a knee and all that shit?” he says, and I blink at him. His shoulders stiffen at whatever he sees on my face, his throat bobbing as he swallows exaggeratedly. “Okay, fine. I’ll get down—”
“Not now!” I say as he begins to kneel. He stares back at me. “Do it another way, without me having to tell you to kneel. Make it more romantic than just putting the box on the table. Ezra, come on.”
My chin wobbles and he immediately wraps his arms around me. He peppers my face with kisses until I laugh and shove him away. If I wasn’t pregnant, this would’ve been a fine proposal. I honestly don’t care. But hormones have me all fucked up.
Hormones and the romance books Arden has been lending me. They’ve raised my standards too fucking high.
“Okay, I’ll do it tomorrow,” he says, and I roll my eyes.
“You’re not supposed to tell me—whatever.” I wave my hand at him and move toward the fridge. Yanking it open, I grab my carrots and mustard and turn back around.
He’s kneeling, the box in his hand.
“Like this?” he asks. My hands shake as I drop the food on the counter and stare at him.
“I didn’t mean now,” I choke out.
“I know,” he says. “But I’m impatient and can’t wait.” He takes a deep breath, his eyes flicking between mine, and opens his mouth. He hesitates, like he’s trying to find the right words.
I shuffle a step closer to him, reaching my hand out. He grabs it, kissing my knuckles again.
“Mom!” Ian walks into the kitchen and abruptly stops. Enzo runs into his back and nearly falls to the floor. “What’s going on?”
“No way!” Enzo rounds Ian to peer over Ezra’s shoulder. “That’s the ring?” He smacks his shoulder. “I told you to get the other one.”
“You knew?” I ask, and he nods.
“We both did,” he says, using his thumb to point at Ian. We stare at each other over Ezra’s head. Red blooms on his cheeks as he rubs the back of his neck.
We’re a long way away from that shitty little apartment. I think the same thought passes through his head, because he drops his hand and gives me a lopsided smile that says it all.
“Did you say yes?” he asks, jerking his chin at Ezra.
“I didn’t get to ask yet,” he grumbles.
“If you would’ve done it like this in the first place, you would’ve already asked,” I say, and he rolls his eyes.
“Can I just do this?” he asks, looking at the boys over his shoulder.
“We’re staying for this,” Enzo says, leaning against the wall. I fold my lips between my teeth when Ezra looks back at me, looking grumpy as shit.
