CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
The fifty-foot blue neon sign that spelled out The Regal glowed majestically against the night sky. After ten months of work, Jake’s popcorn palace was finally restored to her former glory and she wore it like the diva she was—a little nip and tuck here, a sumptuous new wardrobe there—and she was ready for her fabled close-up.
Jake stared up at the custom-made reproduction sign he’d spent a fortune on and said to Mason, “So what do you think?”
“I think you’re crazy,” Mason replied. “I think you’re the craziest sonofabitch I know.”
“That sounds about right.” Now that his techpark was almost finished, it was time to start hearing more proposals from startups, which was his favorite part of his business. He liked discussing them with Maggie. Jake shoved his hands in his pockets. For the hundredth time, his fingers traced the cool smoothness of the diamond ring he had waiting there, a ring so big and shiny, even Coralee had gasped, “Sweet Jesus, that thing could call down the mother ship.”
“I think I’m nervous,” Jake said.
“Wait. Did I hear you say you were nervous?” Mason grinned at him. “I’ve never seen you nervous before.”
“I always thought weddings were a sign of mental illness,” Jake confessed. “Right up there with mad cow disease.”
“Gee, thanks,” Mason said. “Give it up for us married guys.”
“I just want everything to go smoothly.” After all, it was an important night. Correction: the most important night. Not only was he proposing to Maggie, but he was officiating over the grand opening of the Regal, and the ceremony began in about ninety minutes. Half of Texas had RSVPed to his invitation. After the drinks and dancing, he and the Mayor of Cuervo were going to do a talk on historical preservation, followed by a screening of Singin’ in the Rain.
None of that was as important to Jake as getting this proposal right, which was why he was glad to have everybody here supporting him. Dillon and his lovely fiancée. Uncle Marty and Aunt Pearl. And every member of his Cuervo family, too.
Asking Maggie to marry him filled Jake with the kind of racing excitement that old Jake would have laughed at him for. As he and Mason walked into the Regal’s lush, beautiful lobby, that excitement made him sweat. He couldn’t believe he was actually doing this. Him. Jake Sutton: loner.
Now here he was about to get married. If Maggie said yes. Would she say yes?
“Look at you,” Mason said. “Are you ready to do this thing or what?”
Jake shot the cuffs on his tux jacket and then reached up to adjust his bowtie. Only staff, family, and a few select friends were here so far, but he needed to find Maggie, and now everybody was going to see what a nervous wreck he was.
Coralee, new co-owner of Sweet Dreams, was lighting chafing dishes in the corner. She’d almost single-handedly organized the catering for the event. Her presence at the bakery gave Maggie the freedom to travel with him, which made them both happy.
Coralee saw him and gave a big attaboy thumbs up.
Maggie’s voice echoed from somewhere in the auditorium.
Jake smoothed his hair. He had this. “Okay,” he told Mason. “I’m going in.”
“Do you need me to write the words on your hand?” Mason asked.
“Bite me.”
He started toward the center aisle. Doak and Priscilla were pretending to admire the ceiling mural, but the minute he looked over, Doak gave him a smile and a wave. Priscilla clapped one hand over her mouth and followed him with wide, excited eyes. Cassidy and her daughter Lexie sprinted across the lobby, obviously trying to act casual but failing, and then everybody seemed to appear out of nowhere, so by the time Jake found Maggie, he had quite an entourage.
She was standing by the stage with Pete, going over some of the last-minute details. Pete was in on the secret, too, so when he spotted Jake, he stammered, blushed and practically ran up the aisle to watch from a safe distance.
This is it, Jake thought. His heart was pounding so hard, he felt like it might bust a rib.
Maggie turned toward him, sleek and curvy in a floor-length red satin gown. Her eyes went past him to the people gathered at the entrance to the auditorium, but he could tell she still wasn’t getting it yet.
There would be kids. He knew that. If she couldn’t have them herself, they could adopt. And there would be the occasional misunderstanding. But Jake would promise always to see her. To listen. To respect her, stand by her and love her for as long as he lived.
Taking a deep breath, he dropped to one knee in front of her. Already he could hear the excited murmurings of everyone in the theater. Maggie’s puzzled expression turned to one of bursting joy.
“Marry me, Magdalene Roby,” he said.
She fanned herself furiously to keep from crying. He took the ring out of his pocket and presented it to her. For as long as he lived, Jake knew he would remember her soft gasp and that look of wondering bewilderment.
She gave him her hand and he slipped his ring over her finger.
“Yes,” she said. “Oh, my darling, yes.”