Something about this didn’t sit well with me. I didn’t know what it was until I scanned my eyes down the length of him. It was only then that I noticed what he was wearing, and my smile faltered.
Black tailored Armani pants. A white button-up starched shirt rolled-up at the sleeves, and a blue tie hanging around his neck. I hadn’t noticed it when he first came in because it had been a long time since he traded luxury and design for leather and denim.
“Why do you have on a suit? You haven’t worn one in over a year.”
“I know. Still not ringing a bell, huh? Maybe this will jog your memory.” I was still confused when he stood on the bottom rung of the stool and leaned over the bar. I watched dumfounded as he poured a beer and a shot of tequila. After placing the beer in front of himself and the shot glass in front of me, he tugged his tie off his neck and tossed it onto the bar.
None of this made sense. He knew I didn’t drink, and as far as I knew, he’d quit.
“Brody, I have no idea—”
“Wrong,” he said, shaking his head. “Your line is, ‘bad day,’ and then you’re supposed to push your tequila to the side and point out my tie.”
He’d lost his mind. However, he had that look on his face. The one he got right before he blew someone’s head off. So, regardless of how much I questioned his sanity, I complied.
“Bad day?” I asked. Pushing the tequila to the side, I held a perfect smile while nodding toward the discarded tie.
Brody didn’t bother to look up, while still gripping the hell out of his mug. “Something like that.”
We sat there for moments of uncomfortable silence as he waited for me to say something else. Something obviously, I was supposed to know by the clench of his jaw and grit of his teeth.
After what seemed like forever, Brody pierced me with a fiery stare and placed his hand across my forearm. “Want to—”
My eyes snapped toward the connection. It was such a simple move. An insignificant touch that said everything. It grabbed me by the throat and spun me back in time. Back to when I had nothing to lose.
Before I’d ever been kissed.
As if it were yesterday, I knew my next line perfectly. “Want to talk about it?”
The fire that lit his eyes before blazed even brighter. Turning away, he stared blankly across the bar before lifting the mug to his mouth. “Not particularly.”
“Well, then can I buy you a drink?”
“I own the bar, sweetheart.”
“I get it,” I recited as I shifted toward him and leaned my elbow onto the bar. “I’m just a stranger. What do I know, right? But you’ve got a chip on your shoulder the size of Texas. You obviously need to unload. If not me, there’s got to be someone you can talk to.”
And just like a year ago, Brody said nothing.
“Girlfriend?”
Still nothing.
I opened my mouth to say the memorable line I hit him with next. The one I remembered set him off on a chain reaction of events that led us here, but he beat me to it.
“I don’t have a girlfriend.”
“What?” I reared back, confused. That wasn’t what he was supposed to say.
Before I could move from my chair, Brody took my hand, his throat bobbing on a hard swallow. “I’m hoping I have a wife.”
I couldn’t breathe. My chest felt like a team of horses trampled over it, and my heart raced with disbelief. Those words. I couldn’t process those words.
“Brody—”
I was caught off guard when one corner of his mouth twitched in a cocky smirk, and he reached forward and pinched my lips shut. “Baby, I know you love to argue, but shut up and let me get this out.”
I nodded as best I could with his fingers holding my lips in a vice grip.
He smiled, tilting his chin toward my lap. “This is where it started. When you walked into my bar and sat down on that stool, I hit rock bottom. I didn’t think my life could get any worse.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Hmmfwhhhaa.”
Which loosely translated meant, watch it.
Brody let out a low laugh and ran a hand up my cheek. “You came here to destroy me, Adriana, but you ended up saving me. We’re not perfect, and we’ll never be normal, but I don’t think I’d want it any other way. I know I don’t want you any other way. I love your stubborn attitude. I love that you always have to have the last word. I love that you can’t cook, and damn near set the bar on fire.” He grinned. “But mostly, I love you, princesa. I love the sentimental woman, the passionate lover, and the ruthless queen, and I want all three by my side forever.”
It didn’t matter that he held my lips closed. I wouldn’t have been able to string two words together anyway. All I could do was stare at him as he reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a diamond ring.
“So, what do you say, Adriana Carrera? Will you marry me? Will you be my wife?”
I nodded.
Partly because he still had my lips clamped shut, but mainly because words failed me. Even the simple three letter one that answered his question. That was the thing about Brody and me—we didn’t need something as trivial as a word to solidify what we felt. We didn’t need ceremonies or vows or huge diamond rings.
We’d proven our commitment to each other over and over.
But I sure as hell wouldn’t turn any of those things down.
Frankie, along with the few patrons in the bar, cheered as Brody whooped and scooped me off the chair, kissing me and spinning me around until we were both delirious and dizzy.
“Did she say yes? We’re dying over here!”
As the familiar voice filled the bar, my head shot up, and I glanced over Brody’s shoulder, my legs wrapped around his waist and my arms twisted around his neck. “Is that Eden?”
Brody just shrugged with an unapologetically guilty grin plastered across his face. I knew that look all too well, so I hoisted myself higher over his shoulder, my gaze landing on the brightly lit cell phone sitting next to his tie.
I narrowed a gaze at my new fiancé. “Speaker phone, huh? You play a dangerous game, counselor. What if I’d said no?”
He leaned in close, his mouth brushing against my ear. “Why do you think I pinched your lips shut?”
I threw my head back and laughed, then turned my attention toward my intrusive family. “How long have you guys been listening?”
“Long enough to hear things about my sister’s sex life I can’t unhear,” Val grumbled on the other end of the line.
“Val, stop it!” Eden hissed, then as if flipping a switch, her voice rose about twelve octaves and she let out a squeal I was fairly certain only dogs could hear. “Congratulations, you two! You have to have the wedding at the estate! Oh, a Christmas wedding would be beautiful! Leighton and I could plan it. You wouldn’t have to do a thing but show up, and—”
The rest of her exuberant tirade ended in a series of muffled grunts.
“Cereza,” Val chastised as the muffled sounds got louder. “While I’m sure they appreciate your adorable, yet disturbing enthusiasm, they just got engaged. Besides, you’re five months pregnant. You don’t need to be planning anything.”
There was static and shuffling before another big squeal almost shattered my eardrums. “Congrats, big brother!” Leighton shouted.