Chapter 12

Dallas gritted his teeth as he rolled onto his side and faced Rosie.

“You’ve shared something private with me, and now I feel l should share something private with you.” He didn’t know how he knew, but he just knew that she needed a good laugh. She was retreating into herself, and too much self-reflection was always a bad idea.

She inched down the bed and lay on her side facing him.

She was all wide, solemn blue eyes. “Okay.”

“It’s really more of a confession.” He wanted the buildup. The bigger the buildup, the bigger the laugh.

Her brow scrunched up and she covered his hand with hers. “You can tell me anything.”

“It’s pretty shocking. Are you ready?” He put on his brave face. “In the fifth grade, I convinced my baby brother, T-Bone, that he was radioactive and that if anyone touched him they would die. Did you know that you can order radiation suits on Amazon?”

She looked confused, and then the story registered and she threw her head back and laughed.

The sound made his soul smile.

“Then I convinced him that Worth and I were wizards who secretly went to Hogwarts but that after we—Worth and I, that is, and not Harry Potter—were the ones to defeat Voldemort, we were too famous to live among the magically inclined. He honestly believed that we were in some sort of wizarding witness-relocation program so we were forced to live with muggles.” Dallas shook his head. “He was so disappointed when he didn’t get a letter from Hogwarts.”

She was laughing so hard that tears were rolling down her cheeks. “What else?”

“Well, let me see…” He scratched his chin. He was fully prepared to make up things, but sadly, fiction was more believable than the truth. “We convinced T-Bone he could fly. We had him jump off the roof to get momentum. He broke his ankle. We felt bad.”

“I bet your parents were mad.” Her eyes sparkled when she smiled.

Did his eyes sparkle when he smiled? Come to think of it, sparkly eyes were something girls noticed.

Damn, he was turning into a girl. He caught himself before he rolled his eyes.

“You have no idea. It’s the only time I ever saw my dad lose it. Usually, my mom was the one to discipline us, because my dad is a big softy. He’d waggle his finger at us and say, ‘Wait until your mother gets home.’ That time I really thought he was going to kill us.” It had been both frightening and hilarious.

“What was your punishment?” She wanted to know about his life. It was a start.

“I don’t remember, but T-Bone played it up. I’m convinced that he really didn’t need those crutches but only did it for the attention.” His baby brother had always been a drama queen. Now that he’d probably broken his ankle, Dallas was willing to concede that T-Bone might actually have needed those crutches.

He scratched his chin again. “Now that I think about it, T-Bone’s pretty gullible. It’s a wonder that he made it to adulthood.”

“I don’t really have any funny stories about my sisters. All I remember was them working hard to keep a roof over our heads. Now that their company is established, they don’t have to work so hard, but they do anyway.” There was pride in her voice.

“What company? What’s the family business?” He really should ask her more personal questions. It seemed that he had spent what little time he’d been able to speak to her talking about himself.

A lock of her hair fell across her face and she tucked it behind her ear. “They started Fantastic Flans.”

“Don’t toy with me woman.” Up until now, he hadn’t believed in soul mates, but he’d just changed his mind. “Their dulce de leche flan is hands down the best thing I’ve ever tasted.”

“That’s my favorite too,” she said. “Yep, my sisters own Fantastic Flans.”

He took both of her hands in his. “I have a very important question to ask you. I’d get down on one knee, but I can’t. So… here goes. Will you marry me?”

He was only half kidding.

She busted out laughing. “Marriage seems a little extreme just for free flan.”

“I was hoping for a discount, but free? I’d be willing to give birth to our children for free flan.” He let go of her left hand and tilted her chin up. He laid his lips on hers for just a taste and then he pulled back.

He was enjoying the dazed look on her face. He felt exactly the same way. “There’s a lot I’d do for free flan, but marrying you seems like the most pleasant.”

“Words every girl waits a lifetime to hear.” She grinned.

For someone who’d spent most of her adult life planning weddings, she didn’t seem the mushy-gushy hearts and flowers type of girl.

“For the sake of argument, let’s say that you did agree to marry me. I bet you really do have your wedding planned to the millisecond.”

Confusion settled on her face. “Didn’t we already talk about my wedding?” She shook her head. “I have no idea about it.”

“I don’t believe that. I bet you have everything planned.” He could see right through her. If she were a Barbie, she’d be Work Her Fingers to the Bone Barbie.

“Honestly, I don’t see myself ever getting married.” Her words didn’t sound like they were coming from a place of anger. She was just stating a fact.

“You don’t believe in marriage?” He was having a hard time buying that one. Anyone who spent as much time planning the perfect day as she did had to believe in marriage.

“That’s not it. At least, I don’t think that’s it. I’ve just never really thought of myself as marriage material.” By the look on her face, she really believed it. “I’m fairly certain I’d end up in the fifty percent of marriages that end in divorce.” She thought about it for a second. “In fact, I can usually tell which couples will make it and which ones won’t.”

“How?” He didn’t agree with her about her marriage prospects, but arguing about it wasn’t going to get him anywhere.

“I can always tell when a couple is going through the motions instead of truly caring about each other. It all starts with the gift.” She tucked another stray lock of hair behind her ear.

Her hair looked so soft he wanted to touch it, but it would ruin the mood.

“What gift?” He had no idea what wedding protocol was, much less what gift she was talking about.

“It’s customary for the bride and groom to exchange gifts right before the wedding. I can always tell by the gift whether the marriage will last.” She grabbed the pillow behind her, balled it up, and laid her head down on it.

“What? Is it based on money or something?” He had lots of money, so buying her a wedding present that sparkled wouldn’t be a problem. Only, she didn’t seem like the type of woman who wanted big, flashy jewelry.

“No, in fact it’s the opposite.” She tucked her hand under the pillow, and he was willing to bet that she was a side sleeper.

He sent up a prayer to God that he’d find out tonight. Should he actually be praying for sex? Somehow it seemed wrong.

She continued. “The average cost of a wedding in the United States is a little over thirty-five thousand dollars. I see couples breaking the bank for their wedding and then buying really expensive presents for each other. When I see a groom pull out a pair of huge diamond earrings or some bracelet that costs more than the wedding, mentally, I usually give them less than five years.”

“Why?” He’d bought many a flashy bobble for a girlfriend. Come to think of it, none of those relationships had lasted very long. Then again, none of those women had been Rosie. He hadn’t wanted permanence until her.

“Because if you have to buy someone’s affection, it isn’t real. Love is free. Diamond earrings might appease her for now, but what about tomorrow? And what about when she finds someone who can buy her even bigger diamond earrings?” She smiled to herself, and her eyes softened like she was remembering something wonderful. “The best gifts are thoughtful ones, and usually they don’t cost much.”

“Like what?” He was prepared to ply her for information all night if he had to. He wanted to know everything about her, and all it had cost him was a broken ankle. It was a hell of a deal.

“It’s the gifts from the heart.” She rolled her eyes. “I don’t mean cheesy poetry. I can always tell the couples who will stay together, because they know each other so well. They are beyond buying the gifts they want the other person to have and instead buy the gifts the other person really wants.”

“I don’t understand. Isn’t it the same thing?” Wow, he’d never realized how complicated weddings were. Had Rowdy and Justus exchanged gifts? Did Cinco know he was supposed to buy a gift for CanDee? Should he tell Cinco he needed to give his fiancée a thoughtful gift before the wedding, or should he just keep quiet and watch his older brother flounder?

Floundering sounded like way more fun.

“For example, I had a boyfriend once who thought I loved expensive crystal figurines.” She shook her head. “I don’t know where he got that idea, but he was forever giving me those delicate little things.” She swept a hand down her body. “What part of me says that I love crystal figurines?”

She was right. She was all about the no-nonsense. Two seconds after meeting her, he’d known she wasn’t a frilly kinda girl. Something about that really turned him on. Maybe it was the desire to find whatever frills she had locked inside, or maybe he just appreciated the way she took nothing for granted and went after whatever she wanted. Either way, he was so into Rosie.

“Nothing about you screams figurines.” What he knew of her was practical to the core. There was no room for figurines.

“Exactly. Rather than take the time to get to know me, he decided I was a figurines kinda girl, so he bought me what he wanted me to have instead of what I like.” She held a hand up. “I don’t want to come off as materialistic, because I’m really not. All I’m trying to say is that if you’re contemplating spending the rest of your life with someone, shouldn’t you know them well enough to know they don’t like crystal figurines?”

“Makes sense.” He’d never really thought about it before, but she was right. If he was going to spend the rest of his life with Rosie, he needed to get to know her pretty damn quick. No crystal figurines… got it. “What are some of the best presents you’ve seen brides and grooms exchange?”

Surely she would throw in a couple of her own favorite things.

The smile was back, making her eyes sparkle. “Once, I had a bride who bought her groom monster truck rally tickets. I thought it was a terrible gift until I saw his eyes light up. Another time, I had a groom from very old Dallas money. His wife was from a working-class family. He knew that she was worried about how her family would fit in the big, fancy wedding his parents were pushing on them. So two days before the wedding, the groom called every single guest and told them that the wedding was casual and asked them to please wear jeans. Thank God he didn’t tell me until after the wedding, because I would have advised him against it, but as the bride walked down the aisle she knew immediately what he’d done for her. The awe and love on her face was breathtaking.”

Her face had softened, and he saw the very first sign of frilly. She loved the love part of the wedding. It was funny, he hadn’t taken her for an emotional girl, but deep down, he could see that she was.

“What else?” He wanted for her to get personal. He wanted to know what he could do for her that would matter the most.

She shook her head. “I don’t know. There are the sweet gifts, like love letters or an empty photo album that the couple can fill with memories, or the family heirloom that’s passed down. And then there are the strange gifts.”

“Stranger than monster truck rally tickets?” He’d actually like monster truck rally tickets.

“Oh yeah. Some of the weird gifts off the top of my head: a 1960s lava lamp, a picture of J. Edgar Hoover in drag, a surprise honeymoon in a haunted jail, and a truckload of watermelons.” She looked like she couldn’t fathom why anyone would want those things. “There was a two-hundred-year-old fruitcake that had some meaning to the groom, but my favorite was the matching engraved axes.”

“Axes, like chopping-things-down axes?” He didn’t know much about weddings, but axes didn’t seem like a good idea.

“The bride and groom gave each other matching ice axes for climbing Mt. Everest.” She touched his hand. “You might think they were going to climb Everest on their honeymoon, but no. Both were in their upper sixties, and one was in a wheelchair.”

“What was with the axes?” Given the wedding couple’s physical limitations, it just seemed like a bad idea.

She shook her head. “Don’t know, but they were both teary eyed when I delivered their presents.”

Emo over ice axes… to each his own.

“What would you want as your special wedding-day present from your groom?” Blatant much? He was tired of talking around the point. He really wanted to know.

She shook her head. “That’s just it. It should be something I don’t know I’ve always wanted.”

No pressure there. How in the hell was he supposed to figure that out when she didn’t even know she wanted it?

He was coming to the conclusion that weddings were more complicated than just a couple of people wearing fancy clothes and saying, “I do.”

He didn’t want to downplay her career, but a wedding was just one day. How could that be so complicated?

“I find it hard to believe that you don’t have a general idea of what you’d like on your wedding day.” He didn’t want to push too hard, but he really wanted to know what he was in for. He refused to believe that they wouldn’t end up together.

Come on, she had to have something in mind.

She shrugged. “For the sake of argument, let’s say I do find someone who doesn’t get on my nerves and that I could stand to be with for more than like one month. I guess I’d want something simple. On my wedding day, I’d like to get up, put on the simple white dress I’ve bought for the occasion, fix my own hair, and meet my husband by the river or in an open field on a sunny, cloudless day. I’d like to get married outside—which, by the way, is a nightmare to plan, but I don’t care. I want no frills. I just want a couple of friends, some family, and an easy, fun day. No caterers or florists or DJs. Just a simple ceremony followed by a picnic.”

He had to say that sounded really good to him too. Not that he’d ever really thought about getting married… well, until he’d met Rosie. But an outdoor wedding with just family and friends on a cloudless day was just about perfect. “I like your version of a wedding.”

“Me too.” She smiled to herself. “Thanks for making me think of it.”

“Now let’s talk about your fiancé. Your only requirement is that he not get on your nerves so you can stand him for more than one month.” He did his best to keep his voice light and not like he was taking mental notes. “What exactly are the things that men have done that get on your nerves?”

She sighed long and hard. “I don’t have a list per se. I guess it’s on a person-by-person basis. My last boyfriend, Zane, overused the word ‘like.’ Every other word out of his mouth was ‘like.’ Everything was ‘like this way’ or ‘I was thinking like we could like…’ Even though he was a couple of years older than me, I felt like I was babysitting but I wasn’t getting paid.”

“I know what you mean. I dated this girl, Kelsey, she ‘liked’ every sentence to death. It got to the point that I didn’t want to have a conversation with her because of all of those likes.” In the end, he’d started counting the number of likes per conversation. Her record was two hundred and eighty-four.

“I know what you mean.” She yawned. “I stopped answering his texts because he over-liked in those too. In my mind, I charged him twenty-five cents a like.” She did some mental math. “I figure he owes me somewhere in the neighborhood of five hundred million dollars. Maybe I should send him a bill?”

He nodded. “I think that’s reasonable.”

She yawned again.

He glanced around for a clock but didn’t find one. It had to be late. He reached behind him and turned off the bedside lamp.

She made as if to get up, but he put a hand on her shoulder. “Stay. We can sleep in the same bed. I promise to be a perfect gentleman. Then again, you want my body, so maybe I should be worried.” He yawned.

“I’ll try to control myself.” She added a long stretch to her yawn and then rolled over onto her right side so that her back was facing him.

His hands itched to touch her, but he’d promised. He didn’t recall ever just sleeping beside a woman… well, only if he fell asleep after sex. There was something comforting about just being near her. She was close enough that he could smell the lemony shampoo on her hair.

He couldn’t wait to wake up beside her.