A lump sprang up in my throat. I tried to process that as quickly as possible, but it was like getting hit over the head with a two-by-four. Not that I had any inclination to run to Blaine, but just those words were something I’d dreamed of hearing for so long.
As the realization hit that I truly didn’t give one iota about those words now, a surge of happiness ran through me. I didn’t care what he wanted. I only cared about this dark-haired man in front of me.
“So today she walks into my office. Cane and I were talking about us gettin’ engaged . . .”
“Bet she loved that,” I muttered, turning my back to him so I could stir the sauce.
He laughed. “Yeah, so much so that I fired her. I hate to admit this and I never would to him because God knows Cane’s ego doesn’t need boosted, but he might have been right about her all these years.”
I sat the spoon down on a little pad and turned around in surprise. “You think?”
“I do. Cane always said she played everyone; that’s why he hated her. I never really saw that, but I’m starting to see it now. She lets you see what she wants you to see, what she thinks will benefit her. And with me, she’s always played the damsel in distress because of, you know, what happened.” He looked down at the floor. “But you’re my number one now. She’s a big girl. She can take care of herself or stop putting herself into dumb situations.”
“I love when you say that.”
“What?”
“I’m your number one.”
He grinned. “And you’re my two. And three. And four . . .”
I smiled as I went towards the fridge to get the cheese. I glanced in the box Max had sat on the counter and stopped. “What’s this?” I asked, lifting a bracelet out of the box. A chill tore through me.
“Stuff Lucy found in Sam’s cubicle after she left. I’m gonna give it to Bri to give back to her.”
I furrowed my brow, turning the bracelet over in my hand, the blue bead catching the light. “Max, this is mine.”
“Are you sure?” he asked, his voice low and controlled.
“Yeah. I’ve had this forever. Remember? I told you it was gone awhile back.”
He tilted his head to the side, his jaw pulsing. “How would she have gotten it?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“Maybe you took it off at Mom’s and she thought it was Bri’s or something?
I let out a breath, trying to shake the bad feeling I had. “Maybe. I hope.” I forced a swallow. “I know this was in my jewelry box. I know the last time I wore it.”
He came around the counter and rubbed my shoulders. “I’ll ask Bri about it. Let’s hope to God you both had one and this one is hers.” He circled his fingers, working the knots out of my neck. “Really, that has to be it. You lost it while you still lived there, so how could she have gotten it otherwise?”
“I have no idea.” The only way that would’ve been possible was beyond creepy and I didn’t want to go there.
Max is probably right—it’s probably Bri’s. Mine is probably somewhere else.
“I was thinking today,” I said, trying to change the subject before my brain ran too far with possibilities. Between the sunglasses, the red lipstick, and now the bracelet, I felt sick.
“Really? That’s good to know,” he joked, smacking my butt as he walked away.
“Funny. I was going to say something I thought you’d like to hear, but I’ll just keep it to myself . . .” I opened the oven door and with a silicone mitt, I grabbed the pan and pulled the garlic bread out. I put it on top of the counter.
As soon as I released the pan, Max’s hands were on my waist, causing me to jump. I hadn’t heard him come up behind me. His breath was hot against my ear. “What were you gonna say, sweetheart?”
I shrugged like it was no big deal and he growled, causing goose bumps to spread across my skin like wildfire.
“I listened to your mix tape today,” I said softly, enjoying the feeling of his hands digging into my hips. The nips and licks against my neck were making me lose track of my thoughts.
“Did ya like it?”
“Yeah,” I practically moaned, bending my head to the side to afford him more access.
“What were your favorites?” he said, licking my neck and then blowing across my skin. The juxtaposition of hot and cold causing me to nearly combust.
“I Just Want You by Cole Swindell. Your Body Is A Wonderland by John Mayer—that was nice,” I giggled as he laid kisses around my neck and to my jawline. “It made me think.”
“About what?”
“About marrying you.”
His mouth stopped, his fingers digging in deeper on my hips. He stilled for a moment before saying, “You aren’t getting out of it.”
I giggled and he flipped me around to face him. His face was stern, his eyes narrow, his jaw tensing.
“I’m not laughing,” he warned, but it only made me giggle harder. “Kar . . .”
“Relax,” I said, swatting at his chest, getting myself under control. “I was thinking that maybe we could just go get married. At the Justice of the Peace. I even called today and we just go down there and get our license and get it done.”