Backing You Up

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Backing You Up Page 25

by Weston Parker


  “Have you seen Rogan?” I asked him, scanning the crowded ballroom.

  “I spoke with him a bit ago.”

  “I haven’t seen him in a while. If he ran off and ditched me, I’m going to hurt him.”

  “I don’t think he ditched you. In fact, the last I spoke with him, he said he was going up to get some fresh air.”

  “Oh, so he did ditch me,” I said with a laugh. “This entire thing was his idea and he sneaks away.”

  “Maybe you should go after him,” he suggested.

  “Funny, because one of the last times we talked, you told me that very same thing.”

  He shrugged. “What can I say? I’m old and wise.”

  “Thank you, Beau. Don’t leave before saying goodbye. I’m going to find him and drag him back down here.”

  I walked to the door that led to the roof. The moment I opened it, I saw a string of pretty white lights strung up. It was nothing I had ever seen before in a stairwell. I lifted my dress above my ankles and climbed the stairs. I pushed the roof door open and walked right into a pretty canopy of more white twinkling lights.

  Rogan was standing under them with a bouquet of roses in his hand. I stopped and smiled, taking in just how damn handsome he was. “What are you doing up here?” I asked and walked toward him.

  “Waiting for you.”

  “You didn’t tell me you were coming up here. I would have gladly followed you.”

  “I needed a few minutes to get everything ready.”

  “What is all of this?”

  “It’s for you,” he answered, handing me the flowers.

  I put my nose to the roses and inhaled the scent. “They are beautiful.”

  “I wanted you up here because I wanted to talk to you in private.”

  “What’s going on?” I asked.

  “First, let me show you the view,” he said, taking my hand.

  He led me toward the edge of the roof. The view of Houston stretched out around us. It was breathtaking.

  “It’s beautiful,” I breathed. “How did you know this was here?”

  “I’ve been here a few times for other events with the company. When I was in Dallas and missing you and home, I thought about this view. It is one of the most beautiful views I have ever been lucky enough to see. I wanted to share it with you.”

  I gave him a kiss. “Thank you. It is stunning.”

  “This isn’t the only thing I want to share with you. I want to share my life with you. I want you to share your life with me. I know we have been working really hard this past year and a half, but I think we are finally to a point where we can take a minute to breathe. I am so proud of all that you have accomplished. I am proud to stand by your side at work and at home, but it’s time to make a change.”

  My stomach dropped. “What?” I whispered. “A change? What does that mean?”

  My legs were shaking with fear of being dumped or abandoned by him. I couldn’t survive it. I needed him in my life. Instead of me dropping to my knees, he did. He grabbed my left hand and held it between his.

  “I want to make this official. I want us to be together forever. Cora Mallet, will you please marry me? I promise I will spend every moment trying to make you happy. I will be good to you. I will continue to support you and love you through everything. I want to be your husband. I want to be with you until my last breath on this earth. Will you be my wife?”

  I could barely see him through the tears. I caught a glint of something and quickly blinked away the tears in my eyes as I tried to focus on him. He was holding a ring and looking at me with such love and devotion I thought my heart would burst.

  I bobbed my head up and down and managed to choke out a yes. “Yes, yes, yes,” I said over and over.

  He slid the ring on my finger and got to his feet. He kissed me with all the love and passion I felt for him. I heard the crinkle of plastic and realized our bodies were smashing my flowers.

  “Oops,” he said with a small laugh. “I guess I got a little carried away.”

  I looked down at the roses before dropping the bouquet to the ground and throwing myself at him. “God, I love you so much.”

  “I love you,” he said, holding my face in his hands. “I love you more than anything in this world. I will follow you everywhere you go. I will never stop loving you.”

  “I want a family,” I blurted out. “I want your babies.”

  He laughed. “You sure do like to move fast.”

  “I want it all. I have been dreaming about this moment for almost two years. It can’t come fast enough.”

  “I’m up for anything you want to do. I will give you a hundred babies if you want. I won’t mind the making of them at all.”

  “Can we go home and practice?” I whispered. “When it’s time, I want to make sure we do it right.”

  He laughed. “Baby, I say we start practicing right now.”

  I kissed him, letting him know I was on board with that idea until I stepped on the flowers. “We have to go back,” I groaned. “Beau knows we are up here. He’ll know what we are doing.”

  “You know everyone thinks we have sex in your office or my office all the time, right? They are going to think we are up here doing it whether we are or not. We might as well enjoy ourselves.”

  “Okay.” I grinned, feeling completely carefree and totally in love.

  The End.

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  About the Author

  Hey there. I'm Weston.

  Have we met? No? Well, it’s time to end that tragedy.

  I'm a former firefighter/EMS guy who's picked up the proverbial pen and started writing bad boy romance stories. I co-write with my sister, Ali Parker, but live in Texas with my wife, my two little boys, a dog, and a turtle.

  Yep. A turtle. You read that right. Don’t be jealous.

  You're going to find Billionaires, Bad Boys, Military Guys, and loads of sexiness. Something for everyone hopefully. I'd love to connect with you. Check out the links below and come find me.

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  Backing You Up

  Copyright © 2020 by Weston Parker

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  The novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and plot are all either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons – living or dead – is purely coincidental.

  First Edition.

  Editor: Eric Martinez

  Cover Designer: Ryn Katryn Digital Art

 

 

 


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