“Your place or mine?” I ask Olivia as we leave the restaurant.
With her head resting against the back of the seat, she turns to look at me. “Yours.”
Reaching over, I take her hand and bring it to my lips. “You okay?” She’s been noticeably quiet toward the end of the party.
“Yeah.” She smiles softly. “Just thinking.”
“You want to talk about it?” If there’s something bothering her, I want to know about it so I can fix it. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for her.
“Nothing’s wrong. Just processing the night, that’s all.”
“You girls looked like you were in deep conversation at one point.”
“Just girl talk,” she evades.
“I see how it is,” I tease. Things with Olivia have always been easy. For years, I watched her, longed for her really, not for the lack of looking like a pussy. I always thought she had a thing for Aaron, but when Aaron and Whitney got together and she was fine with it, happy for them, I moved in. No way was I letting some other schmuck come in and take her from me. She’s all I’ve ever wanted.
We ride to my place in silence, not uncomfortably so. She has something on her mind, and I want to give her time to work it out. She’ll fill me in when she’s ready. She always does.
“You ready for bed?” I ask as I pull into the driveway. My house is a two-story farmhouse. It’s been completely remodeled with a small pond out front and a big backyard. Perfect for a new family. It’s why I bought it three months ago, and it is definitely not the house of a bachelor. Olivia’s place is nice too, just smaller and not with much yard space.
“I am.” She places her hand over her mouth, covering a yawn. “Shopping wore me out.” She laughs, climbing out of the truck.
She was part of the “keep Jamie away” plan while we set everything up at the restaurant for the engagement party. We all knew Jamie was going to say yes though. All you have to do is look at the two of them together and you can see it.
I meet up with her as we head up the steps. “What’s holding you back, Liv?” I ask, reaching for her. She turns in my arms so she’s facing me. I don’t have to explain myself with my obscure question either. She knows exactly what I’m referring to. The truth is, I’m ready to start forever with her. Tonight, seeing all of our friends happy and starting families… I want that.
She lifts her arms and places them around my neck. Looking into her eyes, I see her emotions. She’s been running, evading, delaying… whatever you want to call it. Making excuses. “Surprise me,” she whispers against my lips.
I pause momentarily in shock. “What?” I manage to ask when my brain reboots, my brows lifting. “I need you to replay that for me.” I hold her a little tighter.
“Next time, surprise me.” Her smile is soft, and I can see nothing but love in her eyes reflecting back at me.
“Olivia,” I growl and pull her closer. “Don’t tease me, beautiful.” I need to make sure my mind isn’t playing tricks on me. Is she really saying what I think she is?
“Surprise me,” she repeats.
“You’re ready?” I clarify. I’ve been asking her playfully to marry me since the beginning of our relationship. Every single time, she blows me off. I’ve never asked her straight up or on bended knee with a ring, the fear of her rejecting me too real. Something has been keeping her, keeping us from moving forward. I already have the ring. Hell, I’ve had it for close to a year now, waiting for the time I knew she was ready.
“I love you, David. I want the future we talk about. So next time surprise me.”
“We’re doing this?” I confirm. I’ve waited for her to be on the same page as me for the majority of our relationship. I know she loves me. She just needed time. Time I was willing to give her. Not having her in my life wasn’t an option.
“Yes.” She clasps her hands behind my neck. After a few sweet kisses, she mumbles against my lips, “We’re doing this,” before kissing me again.
I want nothing more than to devour her, but I don’t. I let her have this, let her control the pace while my mind races. I’ve had a lot of time to think about how I want to propose for real, so many different ideas. Now that it’s here, I need to decide. None of them seem worthy of her.
“I love you,” I say as soon as she pulls away.
“Mmm.” She snuggles into my chest, too tired to offer more.
Unlocking the front door, I lead her inside before turning the lock back in place. We don’t bother with lights as I guide her upstairs to the bedroom. We make our way to the attached bathroom and stand before the his-and-hers sinks, brushing our teeth. I love the nights she’s here. When I bought this place, I wanted it to be ours, and it feels empty when she sleeps at her place. I made sure before purchasing it that she loved it. I can still remember the light in her eyes when I showed it to her before I made an offer. Without a doubt, I knew this is where we would live. Now more than ever before, I saw it all play out in my mind—family dinners, playing with the kids in the backyard, sitting on the porch swing after the kids have gone to bed. All of it. In vivid detail, our future came to life, and my girl just informed me she’s finally ready.
Now all I have to do is decide how and when. Shutting off the bathroom light, we head to bed. I strip down to my boxer briefs and toss my T-shirt to Liv. Then we crawl into bed. I pull her close, kiss her neck, and it seems like she’s instantly asleep. Holding my future in my arms, I map out a plan.
My girl wants a surprise. She’s going to get it.