Micah got greener by the second as well. Even in the weird orangey light, it was clear that her pallor was not good.
“Hey, why don’t we go?” I asked her. “You need to go home and—”
“Nah, just give it a minute,” Thatcher said. “See if the Coke works.”
Nick had come back with a Coke for her, and although both Lanie and Allie grabbed their things like they were ready to leave, he and Bash casually mentioned staying a bit longer. My spidey senses went up.
Even though none of my senses could truly be trusted at that particular moment, what with the holding hands two inches from Thatcher’s dick. In secret. I could feel the heat of his body through his jeans, and his fingers were drawing tiny random little lines on the sides of mine. It was maddening. I concentrated on that feeling. Maddening. Sensuous. Sexy. All the things that added up to not comfortable. I could just pull my hand away and get out of the predicament all together, but I didn’t seem capable of doing that.
Still, something was up with the males at the table. Usually Nick and Bash were much more in tune with what their women wanted to do, Micah was ill, and with Lanie’s situation, Nick would have normally gotten her out of there an hour ago.
“Excuse me, can—”
“Bunko!” screamed a lady behind me, cutting off whoever was talking on the mike.
The voice laughed. “Congratulations, Miss Mavis.”
“What’s Leo doing at the microphone?” Micah asked.
Leo stood on the tiny stage that held the musical sound equipment, looking way out of place up there with the mic in his hand, shifting his weight from side to side.
He was a larger, rougher version of his brother, Nick, and where he had the hands of a performance artist when it came to slinging drinks, right now he looked like he was about to drop the microphone.
“Hey, I need just a minute of your time if y’all don’t mind,” he said, his deep voice rumbling through the room as it quieted. He smiled endearingly at the room, and I glanced over at Micah. She looked as befuddled as she did weak. “If you don’t know me, I’m Leo McKane, and—”
Appreciative female hoots and whistles went off all over the room, and he stopped to laugh. Micah grinned and rolled her eyes, and Nick clapped and hollered with them, setting off an ear piercing whistle that made Lanie duck.
“What is he doing?” I whispered to Micah, but she just shrugged in confusion.
“Thank you,” Leo said, laughing. “Um—I’m not one to get up in front of people much, unless I have a shot glass or shaker in my hand, and I’m not as eloquent as I’ve heard my brother be, but I have something to say tonight.”
Another round of applause that didn’t really seem to have a purpose other than making noise, but it appeared to make Leo relax.
“Bear with me,” he said. “This was supposed to be later, but there’s a change in plans. I only have a five-minute break right now, so I need to make every second count.” He cleared his throat. “Less than a year ago, I came rolling into Charmed with a large chip on my shoulder and a hot mess on the back of my bike.”
Laughter rippled through the crowd, and Micah laughed in spite of herself.
“Under a giant white dress and a ton of attitude and baggage, was this beautiful, amazing woman,” he said, looking straight at Micah.
As if on cue, Thatcher, Nick, and Bash rose from their chairs (me yanking back my hand) and lifted Micah from hers.
“What the heck?” she said.
She literally wobbled on her feet, and Thatcher caught her, sweeping her up into his arms and carrying her up to the stage, followed dutifully by Nick and Bash, Nick grabbing a random chair on the way as the crowd cheered.
Setting Micah in the chair and then all of them bowing with a little flourish and backing away like it was synchronized, the room erupted in clapping and hollering. The Bunko ladies were shrieking.
“Oh my God,” I gasped, one hand clapping over my mouth.
“Oh my God oh my God oh my God!” Lanie exclaimed, grabbing Allie’s shoulder in one hand and Drew’s in the other, who were both watching as gape-mouthed as Micah was.
She didn’t even look aware of the crowd as she stared up at Leo. One hand clutched her stomach, and one rubbed her throat.
“Oh no, don’t throw up,” I whispered. I reached back to grab Lanie’s hand. “Pray she doesn’t throw up!”
“I love you, you crazy woman,” Leo said, running a shaking finger along her cheek. “You’ve taught me how to do that. How to love. How to trust. How to believe in another person. The day you climbed on my bike was the beginning of the rest of my life. This journey with you is forever. If you’ll have me.”
He sunk to one knee.
“He’s on one knee!” Lanie squeaked.
“Holy shit!” I choked. “Hurry up! Don’t throw up, Micah!”
Micah had tears streaming down her face as the whole room did a collective gasp and scream, alternatively shushing each other and whooping.
“Micah Lea Roman,” Leo said, his voice shaking either with nerves or emotion or both. “Will you—”
“Yes!” she shrieked, clapping a hand over her mouth.
“Marry me?” he finished, laughing.
Micah was nodding almost fanatically, her hand still over her—
Oh no.
“Yes,” she squeaked out, still nodding, just before she lurched over to her right, away from Leo, and hurled for all she was worth.
* * * *
“Please kill me now,” Micah moaned into a cold, wet rag in the passenger seat of her car, her other hand holding a plastic bag just in case the short ride to Leo’s place wasn’t short enough. “And tell me I didn’t just throw up during my wedding proposal.”
I leaned in and smoothed her hair back while Leo went back for his backpack and keys and cleared it with his boss to leave his shift early and leave his bike there because his new fiancée was spewing toxic waste like a demon.
“Was your last proposal with Jeremy perfect?” I asked.
“It was,” she sobbed. “It was sweet and beautiful and probably the only genuine thing he ever did.”
“Well, see?” I said, rubbing her head. “That led to disaster. That means this one goes the other direction and you’re headed straight for perfect.”
Micah laughed through her tears, and gripped her belly as she did. “Oh man, don’t make me laugh. And don’t ever let me eat—” She made a motion of a circle. “That thing I’ll never speak of again.”
“I hear you,” I said. “I feel the same way about a certain lemon cocktail.”
She just pointed at me and buried her face in the rag again.
“You need to get your money back from Jimmy’s,” she said, her voice muffled. “Or my money back. They poisoned me. I didn’t even get to see my ring yet, and they poisoned me.”
“The fuckers,” I said.
“Motherfuckers,” she whispered into the rag. “I never liked Jimmy. His eyes are weird.”
“I won’t order from him again.”
“That’ll show him.” Micah lifted her head. “Do you want us to bring you home?”
I totally should have said yes. It was my chance to breathe some Thatcher-free air and keep my head clear. Keep my hands from wanting to touch him so badly it hurt. Had that just been last night? Sweet Jesus.
“It’s okay,” I said instead. “I think I’ll stay for a bit. I’ll get a ride or call an Uber.”
Because—me.
“Did all of you know?” she asked.
“I don’t think so,” I said. “I think the guys decided we all talk too much.” I laughed and reached in to squeeze her arm. “It may not have gone quite as planned, but guess what?” I said in a whisper. “You’re gonna marry Leo.”
She dropped the rag in her lap and smiled weakly through happy tears.
“I’m gonna marry Leo.”
Leo came back and fist-bumped the guys and hugged the girls, grinning from ear to ear in spite of having to deal with someone else’s puke. She’d said yes, and that was all that mattered in his world right then. All that mattered in hers. That was love. That was the thing that was so amazing and yet so paralyzingly terrifying. They’d both been way more than burned in their pasts. How could they trust like this again?
“Proud of you, man,” Nick said, doing the manly hug thing with Leo. “That was awesome.”
Leo grabbed his brother’s head playfully, and that whole exchange warmed my heart. It wasn’t long ago that they were completely estranged, years of their lives missed. They’d come a long way. I met Drew’s gaze, and kind of wished for a second that she’d miss something.
“You coming back in?” I asked her, smiling. A full three feet away from Thatcher. I knew that because my body was measuring the inches in magnetic energy.
“Nah, I have to get going,” she said.
We all watched Leo and Micah drive away, like watching newlyweds take off.
“Calling it a night already?” I asked. “You can’t be tired yet, you had one drink.”
“I didn’t say I was going home,” she said coyly. “I’m just leaving here.”
“Such mystery,” I said.
“Please,” she said, laughing out loud and then lowering her voice. “Mystery? You’re one to talk.”
My palms itched, and it was all I could do not to look over my shoulder to see if Thatcher could hear me. I could hear him talking with Jackson and Bash and Nick and the girls and not listening, thankfully.
“What are you talking about?”
She smirked. “Your guy from the divorce group?”
Shit.
“Hot Guy?”
Drew quirked one eyebrow and flitted her gaze to Thatcher and back to me.
“Yeah, Hot Guy,” she said, giving a mini-eye roll. “Gabi. Seriously. Come on.”
“I don’t know—” I began, but Drew’s expression of complete I’m not buying this BS drained the rest of the sentence from my lips. I gave her a beseeching look and steered her farther away from the others. “You can’t say anything,” I whispered.
She laughed. “Who am I going to tell? But Gabi—”
“I know,” I said. “It’s a cluster fuck. Especially after last night.”
Her eyes widened with interest. “What happened last night?”
I sighed and shook my head minutely. “Not that. But more than I can tell you right now.” I glanced over my shoulder at him standing with one hand in a pocket, chuckling at something Bash was saying as he slapped him on the arm. “Suffice it to say, this morning’s meeting with him was quite the shocker.”
“You really didn’t know?” she asked.
“Neither of us did,” I answered, distracted, caught up in the image of him so at ease in my world. “And now we have to turn it all off.”
“Why?”
Her blatant question turned my attention back to her.
“What?”
“Why turn it off?” she said.
“He’s Thatcher Roman,” I said. To me, that was crystal clear.
“So?” she said with a shrug. “Y’all aren’t Romeo and Juliet. Our families won’t go to war. Your business won’t explode. It’s not illegal. What’s stopping you?”
I stared at her. Sometimes I wondered how we were related.
“Drew, if it went south, hell even if it didn’t, we are business partners,” I said. “And his sister is my best friend. There are so many reasons—”
“You’re overthinking it,” she said, tapping the side of my head. “As usual. Besides, you said you only wanted sex, so—”
The sensation of Thatcher standing behind me rolled over me like warmed honey, sending tingly messages to all the good places, and silent alarms to my brain. He hadn’t even touched me. Good God.
I turned and backed out of his aura a step, crossing my arms over my chest as I smiled up at him.
“They’re all heading home,” he said. “We should, too, but Jackson’s in no condition to drive a bicycle, much less a car.”
We all turned to see him holding the building up with his back while holding the blonde from the front. She wasn’t much better off.
“I thought you were the stellar drinker,” Drew said.
“I’m not falling down stupid,” Thatcher said with a laugh. “Doesn’t mean I should get behind a wheel. I originally thought we’d crash with Micah, but I don’t want to invade them right now.”
“I was going to call an Uber,” I said.
“Just stay upstairs,” Drew said.
I gave her a look. “I’ll call an Uber.”
“Gabi, it’s literally right there,” she pointed. “Why not?”
I scoffed. “I refuse to stay there one second before I have to.”
“Oh, good grief, suck it up, Gabi,” she said, aiming us down the sidewalk. “Get the key to the other room from the shop, put Jackson and Thatcher over there, and crash in your room tonight. They can drive you home in the morning before your mover people come.”
I met her gaze as she very subtly quirked an eyebrow. I returned it with an equally subtle head shake. I know what you’re doing. It’s not happening.
Drew smirked and looped an arm through Jackson’s when we got to him, pulling him off the wall.
“Come on, lover boy,” she said. “Tell the pretty girl goodnight.”
“We’re gonna get married, too,” the girl said, slurring a whisper. “Live in Jalooly.”
“Is that right?” Drew said, laughing.
“It’s Jolly,” Jackson corrected, kissing the girl. “Jolly Beach. Don’t forget.” He stumbled alongside Drew. “Don’t forget!”
“I’ll never forget, Jack!” she called back, taking up his spot on the wall.
“Oh, Lord,” Thatcher muttered.
“Rose!”
“Seriously, her name is Rose?” Drew asked.
“No, it’s Sherry,” Jackson said. “But when I told her mine, she started talking—in Titanic pop culture.” He flitted a hand. “Who am I to argue? I’ll find you, Rose!”
I turned to where she’d been and saw empty space. “I think Rose already went for that floating debris, Jack. She’s not sharing, she’s moved on to marry someone else and live in Jalooly.”
“Not cool, man,” Jackson mumbled. “Not cool. They always marry someone else.”
“What does that mean?” I asked Thatcher as we took up the rear, walking a respectable distance from each other.
He shrugged. “I try not to know these things.”
We got inside the shop and Drew opened a few drawers till she found the keys. Reading the tags, she held one up.
“Room Two,” she announced, handing it to Thatcher. “Sleep wisely.”
“Really?” I said under my breath as Drew chuckled at her own joke. “You know you could drive me home before you go wherever you’re going.”
“I don’t have my car,” she said. “I got dressed here, and someone is picking me up back at Rojo’s in a minute.”
“Someone?”
“Someone,” she confirmed. Nothing more.
“Fine,” I grumbled. “Go have fun.”
“Ditto,” she said out of the side of her mouth as she passed me.