We did this a while.
When we stopped, I opened my eyes and looked into his blue ones just as he said gently, “Welcome home, beautiful.”
Home.
I smiled.
Two minutes later…
Hand in hand, Creed walked me through the dark house into his bedroom.
One light was on at Creed’s nightstand and, at what it illuminated, I stopped dead.
Holy shit.
Holy shit!
“How’s that for hearts and flowers?” Creed murmured and I tore my eyes away from his huge bed that looked entirely covered in deep red, velvety soft rose petals to tip my head back and look at Creed.
I opened my mouth.
I closed it.
I opened it again.
I closed it.
“Fuck me, she’s speechless,” he kept murmuring as he grinned down at me.
“I… holy shit,” I muttered and his grin turned into a smile.
I pulled my hand from his and walked to the bed. “Jesus, babe, how many flowers did you have to pluck to do this or can you buy just the –?”
I stopped talking abruptly when I saw it.
In the middle of the bed, a black velvet box, opened, and in black satin sat a humongous, princess cut diamond ring, set in what looked like platinum, inlaid with more diamond baguettes around the band.
It was stunning.
It was exquisite.
It was huge.
“Holy shit,” I breathed.
Creed’s arms wrapped around my chest from behind and I felt him arch so his lips could be at my ear.
“Gonna do it, go big,” he whispered.
I agreed. I so totally agreed.
That rock was completely ostentatious. It had to cost a mini-fortune.
I fucking loved it.
“How you feel about marrying me?” he asked in my ear.
“How I feel is, Vegas is a six hour drive away so that’s not outside checking off our to do list for tomorrow. That and stopping by the grocery store so I have Cocoa Puffs.”
Creed’s arms squeezed me reflexively.
Then he burst out laughing.
Then he picked me up and threw me on the bed and, as I bounced, he put a knee in and joined me. He tagged the ring case, pulled out the ring, threw the case aside, shoved the ring on my finger and, eyes on mine, he kissed it.
My heart swelled.
Then he used his hand around mine to yank me to him.
Other things swelled.
Then he made love to me on a bed of rose petals.
Seriously.
My man.
Was.
Genius.
Three weeks later…
I was pacing the bathroom, phone to my ear, white stick in my hand.
“Nothing’s happening,” I told Charlene.
“Honey, you just peed on it. I heard you. And, by the way, I love you but I never want to hear you peeing again.”
“Charlene, you’ve heard me peeing in bathroom stalls in bars. This is no different,” I replied.
“Oh, right,” she mumbled then, “Adam’s here. You want to talk to him?”
“No!” I hissed. “I’m waiting for a plus sign, Charlene. I love him but I can’t talk to Adam while waiting for a plus sign on a pregnancy test. Jeez.”
“Oh, right,” she mumbled then I heard her cover the phone but not well because I also heard her say, “You can talk to Sylvie next time she calls, okay, honey?”
“Okay, Mom,” I heard Adam say then a shouted, “Hi Sylvie!”
God I loved that kid.
I couldn’t think of that now. I was busy staring at a plastic stick.
Charlene came back to me. “Anything?”
“No,” I answered.
“Give it time.”
Fuck. The suspense was killing me.
“Should I shake it?” I asked.
“I don’t know. What does the box say?”
I snatched up the box and it didn’t say anything so I dropped the box and snatched up the instructions and read them.
“It doesn’t say anything about shaking. It just says one to three minutes. How long has it been?” I asked.
“Well, definitely over one minute but not over three.”
Shit.
I dropped the leaflet and stared at the stick.
A plus sign showed.
Holy shit.
I was pregnant.
Holy shit!
I was pregnant!
“I’m pregnant,” I whispered.
Silence then more silence then a soft sob.
“Charlene,” I said gently, “I need to go tell Creed.”
“Go. Go make a good man happy,” she replied quietly.
Right on.
A fabulous way to start the day. Making a good man happy.
Better, he was my man.
“Love you, babe,” I told Charlene.
“Love you too, Sylvie,” she told me.
I beeped off my phone, put it on the bathroom counter and wandered into the bedroom, down the hall and to the kitchen.
Creed’s back was to me, bare, his tat on display, his hips and legs encased in faded jeans.
God, he was hot.
He obviously heard me coming because he asked the inside of the fridge, “Cocoa Puffs or are you gonna join me in eggs and bacon?”