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Lily covered her mouth with a hand as she started to cry once again.
“I think this is the perfect time to ask you, Lily Hope Shaw, to be my forever. My partner, my lover, the mother to our kids, and my best friend.”
Reaching for my hands, she pulled me up and wrapped her arms around me. “Yes! Yes! Yes! I love you so much!”
I picked her up and spun her around, laughing.
“Your ribs!” Lily cried out.
“Are fine. And as much as I love the idea of making love to you up here, I really want our comfortable bed so that I can spend all night giving my future bride the attention she deserves.”
Beaming up at me, she nodded. “I think that sounds like an amazing idea.”
I glanced at the ring box. “Did you, um…want to put it on?”
“Yes! Oh my gosh, yes!”
Taking out the emerald-cut diamond ring, I slipped it onto her finger.
“Wow. It fits me perfectly! Did you have it sized?”
Shaking my head, I whispered, “No. It’s like it was made for you. Like Mindy and Justin knew you were my future.”
I held her hand, and we both stared at the diamond ring. Two rows of smaller round diamonds encircled the center gem and trailed down the band on both sides.
“It’s eighteen-karat white gold, I do know that. The jeweler in Hamilton said it looked vintage, so it might have belonged to Mindy or Justin’s mother or grandmother. I’m sorry I don’t know for sure.”
She held her hand to her chest. “I don’t care about that. The only thing I care about is that it’s special toyou, and that you gave it to me.”
Brushing a piece of her hair away, I smiled down at her. “I love you.”
Lily wrapped her arms around my neck once more and lifted up to kiss me. “I love you more. Now, take me home and make love to me.”
Chapter Twenty
LILY
Thanksgiving at the Shaw Ranch was always a day of happiness and utter chaos. Not only in the kitchen, but in the living room as well. Since Brock had the largest house on the ranch, holidays were spent there. When I was younger, it was always at Grams and Granddad’s house, but with them getting older, no one wanted them to have to host.
“I think a fight’s about to break out,” Maverick whispered against my ear. “Blayze and Ryan are arguing over a call that was made during one of the football games.”
“That’s nothing new. They always bicker about football. Wait until Hunter jumps in, then you’ll really see some action.”
His eyes went wide. “They actually fight?”
“No,” I replied with a laugh. “Uncle Brock or Uncle Ty will tire of hearing them argue, so they’ll make them settle it with an arm wrestle. Best out of three.”
Maverick leaned against the kitchen counter and gave me a grin. “Are you serious?”
“Mom, how many years in a row have Blayze and Hunter had to settle an argument with arm wrestling?”
My mother pulled a large casserole dish of dressing out of the oven. She set it on the stove, turned to face us, and looked up in thought. “Let’s see, there was that one year with the Cowboys game…” She continued to recall arguments and count them off on her fingers and looked back at me. “I think if they do it this year, it’ll be eight in a row.”
“Eight!” Maverick said with a surprised laugh. “Who usually wins?”
Mom winked at Maverick. “Well, at first it was always Blayze because he was older and stronger. Now it really depends on how much they’ve had to drink.”
Maverick tossed his head back and laughed.
