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“Sounds like you girls are committed to each other now.”
“Seems that way. But I also had this other idea.” Nerves tickle my belly and make my heart thunder in my chest. Because what if it’s dumb? What if I made a ridiculously expensive decision for us both, but my husband hates it?
Slowly cracking the box open, I shield the contents from his hungry gaze for a minute more.
“So, I know you kinda like flash sometimes.” Glancing past the box and meeting his eyes, I swallow. “And I know I robbed you of a fancy wedding day. You probably wanted suits and gowns and a delicious five-course meal.”
“Minka—”
“Instead, you got jeans, and a shoulder injury. We had sex on our wedding night, but you got burritos for dinner and pain relief meds that knocked you out soon after.”
“I liked my wedding day.” Pushing closer, he uses his good arm to hold our weight, then his not-so-good side to cup my face. “The only thing I needed was for you to be there. That’s it.”
“You didn’t get a church.”
“Religion is overrated.”
“You didn’t get music while I walked down the aisle.”
His lazy grin slowly tilts higher. “I got to walk inwithyou. I didn’t have to stand alone and wait for a single second.”
“You didn’t get to make toasts, or have our first dance, and don’t forget that fancy meal you would’ve slammed down in three seconds flat.”
“I’ll make a toast on our anniversary.” He brushes a gentle kiss to my lips. “We danced in the sheets soon after.”
I roll my eyes. “Har-har.”
“And,” he adds with a smile, “we don’t need five tiny courses of weird food, when we could have one massive, greasy-ass burrito that hit the spot exactly.” Another kiss. “Then I got to eat you.”
Warmth floods my veins and fills my belly as memories of our wedding night come back to wreak havoc in my mind.
Maybe he was injured, and there are parts of our night he was probably high from pain meds. But I remember every touch. Every kiss. Every single stroke of my body over his.
“Stop worrying about our wedding.” Gently, he presses the pad of his thumb to my bottom lip. “I didn’t want the party, babe. I wanted the wife.”
“You have me.” Wrapping my arm around his neck, I bring us close enough our chests touch and his tongue plays with mine. “I’m committed to you… almost as committed as I am to Aubree.”
Breaking our kiss with a laugh, he pulls back and studies me with dancing eyes. “Things are serious between you two. Does that mean I have two—”
“Don’t even think about it.” Sitting back on my haunches, I bring the velvet box between us once more. “And stop trying to distract me.”
“What did you buy?” Gently, he brings his hand closer and fingers the edge of the box. “I’m dying to see.”
“Rocks,” I breathe out. “Because you’re my penguin, and I’m yours.”
“Because penguins are monogamous?”
“Because they love,” I counter. “And every season, even when they’ve been separated for months at a time, they come back together again.” I take a deep breath and fill my lungs. “You’re my penguin, Archer Malone, so I decided to get you a rock. Actually, I got us each a rock.”
Exhaling again and swallowing down my nerves, I cast worry aside and open the box so he can see.
Staring, introspective, he studies the white gold Cuban link chain I selected in the middle of the night.
“It’s simply not smart for either of us to wear a ring while we work,” I explain. “The risks outweigh the benefits, and the chances of it being lost are high. So I’ve been thinking these past couple weeks of an alternative that won’t send either of us insane.”
Unclasping the chain and slipping a simple white gold band on, I stretch my arms forward and reach around Archer’s neck to work the catch at the back.
“I got one for you,” I murmur. “And one for me. Though, mine’s a little thinner. Not quite as heavy.”
