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Charlie was clean enough, CB was sitting on the sink a hundred kinds of forlorn and damp, and there were chocolate and tiny marshmallows everywhere.
Everywhere.
And standing in the middle of it was Arlo, grinning. I approached him with caution, wondering if he was losing his shit.
“What’s up?”
Arlo pulled me close, then picked me up off the floor—he picked me up—and swung me in a circle. “I love this. I love chocolate everywhere, and tiny marshmallows sticking to my socks, and Charlie laughing, and CB all sad and wet.” He dropped me, steadying me until I was upright.
This was theimperfectlyperfect moment for me to get my act together, and I picked up Charlie, then dug awkwardly in my pocket. I thrust out my hand, thinking I should be on my knees, but that didn’t seem right. I opened my palm to reveal the small box, and one-handed, I flicked it open. I always knew I’d ask when I had Charlie in my arms, and I’d been practicing.
Arlo gaped at me. We’d talked about future-us, and it included a nebulous idea of a wedding, but we’d been so busy with Lorna having her baby and marrying Ian, and then work, plus whatever Zach was out there doing, it had always been pushed to one side.
“Jax?” Arlo said. Was he encouraging me? Or asking me what the hell was happening?
I cleared my throat. “I thought maybe, Valentine’s Day, me, Charlie, all of our families, sunset, the beach, maybe even get Zach to swim his SEAL-type stuff up to the shore. Arlo, I’d love to marry you. Do you want to make all this kissing and loving official?”
He grabbed us into a hug, and he didn’t let either of us go, even when Charlie batted at our faces with his sticky hands.
“That’s a big fat yes,” Arlo said, and all was right with my world. One fake date on an app, four years of wanting him permanently in my life, and I knew that Arlo was my forever.
We kissed to seal the deal, and Charlie bounced and patted us both with sticky, chubby fingers, and there was chocolate everywhere.
Perfect.
THE END
