David rushes me through a quick — solo — shower so he can take his own while I get dressed. We have less than thirty minutes before the dinner reservation he made, but thankfully, it’s close by. I’m still in shock over how quickly he planned all this; down to packing the black dress I bought right before Christmas to wear out to dinner with my mom and stepfather … the ones who didn’t bother to call to say they weren’t coming until the day of.

I frown at my reflection in the mirror, mentally berating myself for even bringing my mom into tonight, when I should be focusing on spending time with this amazing man who loves me more than I ever thought anyone could. Honestly, I don’t even need a night in a fancy bed and breakfast or an expensive dinner to prove it. Smiling just a little, I focus on my makeup, not wanting it to be too much, but also wanting to look nicer than I normally do.

He comes out of the bathroom fully dressed just as I’m applying mascara. I don’t know how I don’t poke myself in the eye or mess up the rest of my face because David in dress pants and a button down shirt? There’s nothing comparable. Normally, he’s all about jeans and t-shirts, so it’s not often I get to see him like this.

I’m not the only one who stops to stare. David’s in the process of buttoning the cuffs of his shirt when he must feel my eyes on him. He looks up, and his eyes travel from the top of my head to my shoeless feet. Heels and I are a dangerous pair, so they’ll go on just before we leave the room.

Grinning when he sees my bare toes, his eyes travel back up to meet mine, and he whistles low. “You look edible, darlin’.” My face heats, but I smile, returning his compliment. He just shakes his head, slipping on first his shoes, then the matching suit jacket I didn’t even notice resting on the back of one of the two chairs in our room. David shrugs into it, and grabs my coat too, holding it out so I can put it on. “We need to get going, or we’re never going to leave this room.”

“Would that really be a bad thing?” I ask him, because honestly, I could so go for that right now.

Shaking his head, he shakes out my jacket, lifting one eyebrow to say silently, “let’s go.” I sigh a little, but let him help me. Then, he takes my hand and leads me out of the room. We pass another couple as we walk down the stairs, and even though he’s normally the most friendly guy I’ve ever met, he only nods in response to their hello. He’s focused single-mindedly on getting us out to his car and to wherever we’re eating.

The ride is fairly short, and soon we’re pulling up to a valet stand. I practically plaster myself to the window to see where we are, because even when I asked on the way over he refused to tell me. I see the name of the restaurant just before the valet opens my door, extending a hand to help me out. It’s the same restaurant we were supposed to come to back in December, on the night that I’m refusing to think about. I was so upset that night, partly because they didn’t come, and partly because it was a place I really wanted to try. David offered to go anyway, but the thought was just too depressing at the time. However, now that I’m somewhat over what happened, I’ve been dropping hints about coming. Taking the hand offered, I let the valet help me out, though he doesn’t have me long before David’s right there to take over.

He leads me into the restaurant, and in no time at all, we’re sitting at a table in the low-lighted room. The place is fancy, with soft tablecloths and cloth napkins, a candle on the table providing a more intimate setting than glaring lights all over the room. There are a few interspersed throughout, but everything about the large room screams class. It’s a place I would normally feel out of place, even after growing up the way I did, but with David, I always feel like I belong. It’s a wonderful feeling.

The waiter comes to take our drink orders, and David orders a bottle of wine, grinning at the fact I’m staring at him with wide eyes. I just can’t believe he’s done all of this for me. As soon as the waiter walks away, David reaches across the table to take one of my hands in his, rubbing his thumb across my skin slowly. His touch makes me burn, the desire for him I felt earlier never having really left.

“Are you happy?” he asks, voice quiet, but I can tell he’s worried about the answer. My happiness is the most important thing to him, and I’m quick to tell him that yes, I’m more happy than I ever thought I could be. “Good,” he says, his grin widening. “That’s what this —” he gestures around the restaurant with his free hand “— is all about.”

Dinner goes smoothly. The wine is fantastic, the food tastes amazing, and the low music and hum of people talking around us makes it all feel so weighty. David keeps glancing up at me, and I get the feeling something is about to happen. I start to get anxious the longer we sit here and nothing happens, and then, finally, dinner is over and he stands to lead me out of the restaurant. One side of his mouth is lifted in a smirk, and I know he’s messing with me now. Getting me all excited for nothing to happen is cruel, because the thought that’s been going through my head all evening has been “is he going to propose?”

Once we’re back in the car, I expect him to go back to the B&B, but he doesn’t. Instead, he drives closer to downtown, then pulls over into a dark parking lot. I look around, trying to figure out where he’s brought me. It’s dark, and cold, and if I were with anyone else, I’d be trying to figure out an escape plan, sure in a horror movie-esque twist I was about to be murdered.

I turn back to look at him, and he’s holding a pale blue box, his eyes intent on mine. “What?” I manage to ask through the sudden lump in my throat. My hands come up to cover my mouth, and I can only stare at the closed box in disbelief. If that’s a pair of earrings, I’m going to be heartbroken.

A faint blush rises on David’s cheeks, and he says, “I figured doing this here might mean more.” I must look as confused as I feel, because he goes on to explain, “Do you remember the night we went to that art show?” I nod, because that was day he asked me to be his. Oh my. He nods when he sees I get it. “You told me here that you were mine, even though the word boyfriend made me feel like I was back in high school. It seems only fitting I ask you this here too.”

Tears are already overflowing in my eyes, so much so I can barely make out the sparkle of the ring in the box when he opens it. He takes a deep breath, then says, “Lyric, I know it’s only been a year since we met, but in that year, you’ve become everything to me. You’re my best friend, my lover, my partner in all things. I want to be your husband. I want you to be my wife. I see you with Amelia, and all I can imagine is seeing you with our child. I want all those firsts — and all the lasts — with you, forever.”

I’m sobbing by the time he stops talking, unable to stop the tears from falling. This, being with him, marrying him, is the only thing I want. I want everything he just described. Without giving him the chance to ask those four all-important words, I throw myself at him, wrapping my arms around his neck and whispering “yes” over and over against his skin. The hand not holding the ring box wraps around me, holding me close, and I can feel him chuckle against me.

When I finally get enough control of myself to pull back, he’s smiling at me, his eyes full of the love I know he feels for me. “You know,” he says, “you’re supposed to at least let me ask you before you say yes.” I laugh, and though it’s watery, it’s a happy laugh.

“Well, you better ask me then,” I tell him, trying to sound snarky, but my voice is too shaky.

His voice shakes too when he starts to speak, so he clears his throat and tries again. “Lyric Faith Hayes, will you marry me?” As soon as the word “yes” leaves my mouth … again … he slides the ring on my finger. Before I get the chance to study it, his hands grab my waist and pull me over the console so I’m on his lap. His mouth crashes into mine and my hands automatically go back around his neck. Suddenly, I don’t give a damn about the ring. All I can feel is him.

***From Stacey: I hope you’ve enjoyed this short little Valentine’s story. At the end of the week, it will be packaged into an ebook that will be offered free on Amazon – with a little extra added in (think sexy times LOL) Check out the cover below: