Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 71348 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 357(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71348 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 357(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
“Miss Hart,” the receptionist says from the front desk.
Rachel stands up and practically skips up to the front. I don’t walk with her. Instead, I stay just a few feet behind her.
When she grabs the manila folder the receptionist hands her, I know she won’t be able to resist tearing it open. Her fingers rip at the seal, and she reaches in like a kid reaching into their Halloween bucket to pull candy out.
She pulls a single sheet of paper out, turning it around to look at it, and I almost laugh when she gasps so loud several people in the waiting room turn to look at her.
I reach in my pocket and drop to one knee as Rachel slowly turns around to look at me.
You see, Dr. Anchors and I were cohorts today. His little act in the examination room telling us he couldn’t print the 3D ultrasound pictures was really good.
Rachel’s eyes are wide and blinking as she stares at me. The picture she’d pulled out of the envelope slips from her fingers and flutters to the ground. It lands face up right by my knee, a photograph of the engagement ring I’d bought the day after I got out of the hospital last week.
I pop the box open that holds the actual ring and hold it out to her. Her eyes flick down to the ring, and then back to me. “The nurse at the hospital said I should make it more romantic and put a little more thought into the engagement, so… here we go.”
“Oh, Jesus,” Rachel murmurs as her hand comes up to cover her mouth. I’m totally stoked when I see her eyes start to glisten with tears. A woman to my right sighs loudly in appreciation of my gesture, and the air crackles with electricity when I clear my throat.
“Rachel… this is not where I thought my life would take me. But I’ve always been a believer in accepting the gifts that are handed to me. And you are the greatest gift I’ve ever been given, our baby being the next greatest. The only thing that could ever be better is if you trust in what we have between us, and agree to share your life permanently with me while we raise our baby together. So, Rachel Hart… please, please… will you marry me?”
She doesn’t make me suffer. In fact, she had started frantically nodding at about the time I talked about raising our baby together as husband and wife. Rachel drops to her knees and carefully slides her arms around my neck, so as not to bump into my elbow that I’ve got secured with a sling. I bobble the box but quickly secure it in my fist, pressing my cheek into hers.
“Is that a yes?” I ask, even though she’s still nodding her head exuberantly.
“It’s a yes,” she says on a half sob, and everyone in the waiting room breaks out in applause.
Rachel presses her face into my neck, laughing with a mixture of embarrassment and delight. When she pulls back, she’s shaking her head in bemusement. “I can’t believe you did this.”
“I’ve totally got romantic skills.”
“You should have just asked in the hospital room,” she says before pressing a quick kiss to my mouth. “I would have said yes then.”
“But then you wouldn’t have this cool story to tell our kid,” I point out.
“Or have fodder for all the guys at Jameson to harass the shit out of you for,” she returns with an evil sort of giggle.
“You’re rotten,” I tell her, holding the box out in front of her face. “But regardless, let’s get this puppy on your finger and make it official.”
Rachel holds her left hand out, and it trembles slightly. I’m dexterous enough to wrangle the ring from the box one handed, but I have to drop the black velvet carrier to the floor to do so.
The ring is beautiful. My mom helped me pick it out. She was thrilled that things worked out, far preferring me to be happy with a woman I love and the mother of my child than me moving back home to the farm. I expect I’ll want my kid to be as happy one day, and will have to let them go.
The 3-carat yellow diamond slides on perfectly, and Rachel gets her first good look at it.
“Holy shit, Bodie,” she gasps as she takes it in. “This is too much. I don’t wear jewelry, you know.”
“You wear this,” I say emphatically, pulling her hand to my mouth where I kiss her knuckles. “Unless you’re on a mission. Then it goes in a safe-deposit box.”
Rachel laughs and nods. “Okay. I’ll do that for you.”
“That’s my girl.”
Again, her arms go around my neck. She presses into me carefully, ever aware of my injured arm. It sucks I can’t crush her to me, but there will be time for that later.