by Tara Brent
“I’m not christening it if that’s what you think,” she laughs. “Once the boat’s ours, I’ll think about it.”
“You little minx. Well, as it happens, the boat is ours, so does that mean we can do that now?”
“What?” She calls out, obviously not expecting that for an answer. “What if I’d said no?”
“I knew you wouldn’t,” I tell her. “You want to know why I knew? Because you love me and I love you and we read each other’s minds. Now, let’s go look at our bedroom.”
“You should never assume, Drew Gagnon. I might have said no,” she says as she attempts to put anger in her tone, but I know she doesn’t mean it.
“Hmmm...I like a girl who says no but means yes.”
“Oh, you’re intolerable,” she giggles as I scoop her up to carry her to the master bedroom.
“Okay, our room is well away from all the other cabins, so we can make as much noise as we like. After all, there’s so many things I want to do to you that might involve screaming and moaning,” I laugh.
As we arrive in the master bedroom, I lay her down on the huge bed.
“Oh, Drew, it’s wonderful. Who would have thought you could have such a large and luxurious bedroom on a boat?”
I kneel on the floor beside the bed as she sits up to look around.
“You like it then?” I ask.
“Drew, I love it. We will have many happy...”
“And dirty moments in this room,” I interrupt her sentence. “That’s why I thought that this was the best place to...hang on...I need something.” I shuffle around to take a small box from my jacket pocket and open it to show her. “Chrissy Montgomery, will you be my wife?”
“Oh, Drew, what a beautiful ring,” she declares as her eyes light up.
“I hope you’re not going to say no but really mean yes,” I say because she hasn’t given me an answer yet.
“Yes. Yes. Yes. A million times over. Yes. I would love to be your wife, Drew Gagnon,” she says.
“Now can we christen the bedroom?” I ask in jest.
Instead, I slip the engagement ring on her finger.
“Now then, don’t be mad at what I’m about to tell you,” I warn her.
“Do your dark secrets ever end? What have you done now, Drew?” She asks me suspiciously.
“Your mom and Rita have known about all this, for a while now.”
“Why would you tell them before asking me? I might have said no. What’s more, I’ve been longing for you to ask me.”
“Yes, I know you have but I wanted to ask you in this room. I thought it the perfect place because we're going to have some amazing times in here.”
“Is that a promise?” She gives me a playful slap, but I plow on.
“Okay, I deserve that one. But, the thing is, they’ve been organizing the wedding so we can get married before we leave. I figured there wouldn’t be time if I left it until I finalized the deal on this boat. So they did it ahead of schedule. Your mom said you’d be fine with it because she said you hate organizing big stuff.”
Chrissy lays on her back and says nothing. Now I start to worry that I’ve done the wrong thing, after all...doesn’t a girl love to plan her own wedding?
“My mom knows me very well,” she finally says. “But you know me better and you should have confidence in the decisions you make about us.”
She sits up and laughs, “Of course I want to get married before we set off on our adventure. So tell me all about my wedding arrangements because mom’s right, I do hate planning stuff. I’m delighted, Drew. And mom knew I would be.”
“Thank god for that,” I say with a big sigh of relief.
We lay on top of our new bed while I tell my future wife all about the wedding that’s planned for us. I watch her face light up at each and every detail that Lisa and Rita have planned. Chrissy’s right, her mom does know her well. That's how she could tailor the wedding around everything she knows her daughter will adore. Right down to Annie being a bridesmaid and Lucas a page boy.
“Oh, and my parents are already in town because we’re getting married in two days’ time. Are you okay with that?”
“Oh Drew, I would marry you anywhere, anytime and under any circumstances. You’ve made me the happiest woman in the entire universe.”
“No, you’ve made me the happiest man alive...”
“No, I said it first...”
Okay, sometimes we still think we’re young teenagers in love, but what’s wrong with that?
The End
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