Dax insisted that I dance on some nights. I agreed. Like I’d pass up the chance to shake my groove thing at my own place?
I know, I know. You’re coming in late. I skipped about a million details. To bring you up to speed: North Street Bar is half mine—a fifty-fifty partnership with Dax. I couldn’t think of a better way to spend the bulk of my savings. I guess you could say he and I went all in all around.
I moved into his apartment and yeah, it’s a tight fit, but since Dax and I haven’t managed to pry ourselves apart yet, it works. We are looking for a bigger space, but we still haven’t found the right space.
It’s okay, though. We have time. After all, babies take nine months to grow, and I’m only ten weeks along.
Surprise!
Just do me a favor and don’t tell Grace and Jackie yet. I have a feeling it’d break their hearts to know that when I go out with them next weekend I’ll be doing so as the designated driver.
Onstage, Dax has no need for a microphone. He bellows, “Good evening,” and easily gains the room’s attention.
“Thanks for being at North Street’s soft opening,” he says. The crowd claps. As do I. “When Becca and I decided to do this together, everything became easier. Plus, guys. She can cook her face off.”
“Hell yeah!” Vince shouts, and Davis whistles his approval. They know. I’ve been feeding them since I moved here.
“As you know, the grand opening is tomorrow, but that’s not the only grand opening I have planned.”
I cock my head at him. That’s news to me. Did he buy another bar or something?
“Couldn’t think of a better time to do this,” he continues. “So here goes.”
The crowd goes silent as he drops to one knee in front of me. And ohmygawd, I feel faint.
Speaking low so only I can hear, he cracks open a velvet box and reveals a stunning diamond solitaire in a platinum band. It’s a princess cut.
Swoon!
“Marry me, Princess?” he asks. Perfectly.
I’m such a cliché. My jaw drops. My hand rests on my collarbone. Tears flood my vision.
“Do it!” comes a shout that I’m pretty sure was Davis.
“Do it, Princess. I’m lost without you.” Dax lowers his voice even more to say, “Plus, my mom won’t freak out that we’re not married when we tell her about her first grandchild because she’ll be too excited about the engagement.”
I grin, bend at the waist and kiss Dax, and the room erupts like it did at Grand Lark a few months ago. Only this crowd is three times bigger and three times more invested, since they’re Dax’s friends and coworkers.
“About fucking time!” comes a supportive shout. I’m certain that was Barrett, the bad boy of the NFL, turned bad boy sportscaster—because OMG did he get himself into trouble recently!
What am I doing?! I don’t have time to tell you about that. I have to answer Dax.
“Yes!” I shout and, you guessed it, earn more applause. I’ve always wanted to be onstage earning this much praise, but being proposed to might exceed even my biggest dreams of stardom.
Dax slides the ring onto my finger and chucks the empty velvet ring box into the crowd. Barrett, reflexes honed from years of playing football, catches it.
He holds the box in the air, triumphant, until his expression shifts with the realization that catching the ring box could mean he’s doomed to be the next one walking down the aisle. I doubt he’s in any real danger. Finding a woman who would accept all that he is would be stone-cold miracle. Trust me on that one.
Dax stands and holds me close for a long kiss. I’m dizzy with joy when we part and he shouts, “Let’s do this!”
We hop off the stage and dart in different directions, Dax to oversee the bar and me, the kitchen. Amid waitresses and waiters buzzing between us, we wink at each other from across the room.
I take a second in the dim corridor between the bathrooms and the kitchen to admire the sparkle of my diamond in the weak light overhead. Then I rest my hand on my still-flat tummy and blink away more tears as my nose stings.
When this kid comes into the world, the first thing I’m telling her is that her father swept me off my feet at a time I wasn’t looking for anyone. I’ll tell her how her dad encouraged me to chase my heart, while reminding my family that I was capable of anything. I’ll tell her that he came for me again and again and let me spread my wings wide, but never wide enough to leave him.
Unless this bundle ends up being a boy. And then I’ll mostly tell him about the flood and the Jeep campsite and how his dad once cut a massive downed tree with a chainsaw.
I take a step toward the kitchen and pause to look for Dax. He’s watching me while the bustling bar staff races around. He gives me a tender smile that I return, even as I stand frozen in the middle of the melee of waitstaff running to and fro.
In the chaos we find each other. Gazes locked. Hearts beating in sync. That familiar string of longing and heat stretched out between us.
“Love you,” he mouths.
“Love you too,” I mouth back.
Now.
We’ll start building our future.
For LL,
Wine time yet?
Acknowledgments
When I set out to write Dax and Becca’s book, I wanted to explore what would happen when a one-night stand turned into a two-week stand that eventually turned into forever. Forced proximity is my favorite trope, so writing a rained-in romance was a blast! I know I say this a lot—but this book was really special. I teared up when I wrote it, and each and every time I read it! Something about this couple got to me, and I hope they get to you too.
Thanks to my agent, Nicole, for all you do. To Shannon Richard for your advice on this book, and to Jules Bennett for brainstorming with me—your idea: “Hey, what if she liked to cook?” ended up being a huge plot point! Big hugs to my Facebook group, the Lemmondrops, for your enthusiasm for this book when I shared a few early passages. You all keep me smiling.
And last but not least, thank you to my readers. You’ve followed me from bad boys to billionaires to dark angst and back around to romantic comedies. I’m so grateful to have you!
Rumor Has It - Excerpt
The Real Love series continues with a notorious bad boy seeking to repair his reputation, and a type-A journalist whose feathers he loves to ruffle…
* * *
xo, Jessica Lemmon
Catarina
To keep from becoming antiquated, the Columbus Dispatch newspaper split into two parts five years ago. The Dispatch still “dispatches” print newspapers—the kind that line the bottoms of canary cages for our more senior readers—but its online presence has been growing steadily over those five years, thanks in part to new blood in the office.
Thanks, mostly, to me.
Columbus Community Chat, or the Chat if you’re an insider, is the online version of the Dispatch. Some of the articles I write also run in the actual printed paper, which is fun to see. Even though “seeing it” requires me to flip waaaay back to the relationships section of which I’m in charge.