by Reeni Austin
Ramon rolled his eyes, thinking about the customer who slapped Marcy for giving her the wrong hair color. "You can't do a job like that, baby doll. You'll have to sell clothes to old rich ladies who'll slap you because you tried to get 'em to buy the wrong dress."
She laughed.
He said, "You know I'm right. If you couldn't handle being a hairdresser, you probably can't handle working in a boutique, either."
"Don't tell me what I can't handle."
Smirking, Ramon said, "Let's not argue. It ain't nearly as much fun when you're so far away."
She paused, then said, "You are so frustrating sometimes."
Ramon took a deep breath. "Come on. What the hell are you waiting for? I need you. Cara needs you. It's been two months. And as much as I enjoy seeing you every weekend, I'd rather see you every day."
"Apologize for saying I can't handle working in a boutique."
Ramon snorted. "No, it's the truth. You're too opinionated for that kinda work. 'The customer's always right.' Remember? You hate that. Hell, we both hate that."
She waited a while, then mumbled, "Yeah… I don't know…"
"Seriously, what's the problem. What'll I have to do to get you to move back here?"
"Are you in love with me yet?"
"Uh…" Ramon stammered, startled by the question. He tapped his fingers against his desk. "Uh… you know, people say they love each other all the time and don't mean it. Love's an action, not a feeling. You don't need to say it, you just do it. It's just an empty word to most people, and—"
"I love you, Ramon."
"Oh." He sank down in his chair. Those words sure as hell didn't sound empty coming from Marcy. He closed his eyes, letting them echo through his mind, his thoughts spinning.
"I can't move if you don't love me back."
"So, all I have to do is say it? And you'll move? It's that easy?"
She breathed into the phone for a moment. "Is that the only reason you'd say it?"
"Shit. I didn't mean it that way. I meant—."
"Yeah. You never mean it that way. How many times have I heard that?" Marcy let out a growl. "Well, I said it. It's out there."
"Marcy—"
And the phone went silent. She ended the call.
He couldn't take it anymore. He needed her to move, so he had to prove his love to her. And that meant a whole lot more than a silly little, "I love you."
* * *
The next day came, and Marcy hadn't heard from Ramon since their conversation.
She kept her phone by her side constantly, hoping he'd call. Losing sleep because the phone wasn't ringing.
Maybe it was over.
Just like that… it was over. Ramon didn't love her.
Marcy stayed in her apartment, crying. Unable to get out of bed.
The pain of losing him was a million times worse than she'd imagined. It was a soul-sucking, stomach-twisting nightmare.
She looked at the clock: 11:58.
Two more minutes till she'd pour herself a big glass of wine. As horrible as she felt, she wasn't pathetic enough to drink before noon. Had to draw the line somewhere.
Today, she was glad she didn't have a job. She could stay in that bed all day, drinking wine, watching TV. No one would see her cry.
Hopefully Patty wouldn't come to the door. Hopefully she didn't know yet. Had Ramon told anyone they were through? Shit. Did Cara already know?
Knock, knock, knock.
Marcy jolted to a sitting position. Someone was at the door.
Damn it! It had to be Patty. Probably asking about Ramon. Probably knew she'd confessed her love and he just stopped calling…
Knock, knock, knock.
She stayed in bed, waiting for the person to leave. No one could see her like this. Messy, red-faced from crying. Wearing nothing but the comfortable, old Backstreet Boys T-shirt she'd owned since junior high.
Besides… it was almost wine o'clock: the highlight of her miserable day.
Marcy pulled the sheet to her eyes, sobbing. Wine at noon was the highlight of her day?
And then her phone rang its familiar, personalized ring.
The Ramon ring.
She sniffled and let go of the sheet, her arm flinging to the nightstand to retrieve the phone. She let it ring three times before answering.
"Hello?" she said, hoping her voice didn't sound too groggy.
"You in there? I'm out here knockin'."
"What? That's you?" Marcy swung her feet to the floor. He'd only left a day earlier, and he was already back here to see her again? Did he want to break up with her in person?
"Yeah. Answer the door."
"Oh no." Marcy stood, checking out her reflection in the mirror over her dresser. It was worse than she'd imagined. Hair disheveled, eyes puffy and red, T-shirt nearly threadbare. If she saw herself on the street she'd wonder if she was homeless. "No. It's not a good time."
"Oh, come on. I came all the way here. I'm sure Patty'll use her key to let me in." He chuckled.
Marcy groaned. "Give me two minutes. Please."
"All right. Two minutes. Then I'm gettin' Patty." He hung up.
Marcy rushed around her apartment. The dresser, the closet, the bathroom. If he was really there to break up in person, she wanted to get it over with.
But maybe that wasn't why he was there.
Regardless, she couldn't let him see her like this. Couldn't let him know the depths of despair she'd experienced at the thought of losing him.
Approximately two minutes later, Marcy was ready. It wasn't the best she'd ever looked, but at least she wore decent clothes and her hair was brushed.
She took a deep breath and opened the door.
Ramon stood there in his tight T-shirt and blue jeans, extending a bouquet of red roses to her. With a sheepish grin, he said, "I'm sorry."
Marcy let out an enormous sigh of relief, feeling like she could cry again but for a whole new reason. She took the flowers and said, "Thank you." Then reached up to give him a kiss.
He grabbed her waist and kissed her back. When he pulled away he said, "I mean it. I'm sorry." His eyes narrowed at her. "Are you all right? You look sick."
"No, I'm not sick." I've only been crying my guts out for hours, she thought. "I need to finish getting ready. Come in, have a seat. Just give me a few minutes, please."
He nodded and closed the door behind him as she rushed off to the bathroom to put on her makeup.
When she returned, Ramon rose from his chair in the living room.
The look on his face was calm, but in a strange way. Like he was uncomfortable or… something. Marcy had no idea. She asked, "Are you all right?"
Eyes wide, Ramon nodded. "Yeah. I'm fine. Get your purse. Let's go somewhere."
"Okay. You're acting funny."
He smiled. "Just get it. Come on. I wanna take you somewhere."
A few minutes later, they were in Ramon's rented car, destination unknown to Marcy.
"Uh… you gonna tell me where we're going?" she asked as he turned toward downtown.
"No."
Ramon stared straight ahead, barely looking at her. He checked his phone once in a while as if he was looking at directions.
Marcy reached for the car's GPS in the center of the dashboard. "Here. Use this. It works, doesn't it?"
"No!" Ramon said, sharply. "I'll get us there."
"Get us where?"
"Shh!" His eyes went between his phone and the road as he pulled up to a stop light.
Marcy slumped against the back of the seat. Was he trying to surprise her? It was the weirdest trip she'd ever taken with him. And with his odd behavior, she was still worried he was going to break up with her.
A few tense minutes later, Ramon pulled into a parking lot and stopped the car. He turned off the engine and sat there, staring straight ahead.
Eyebrows furrowed, Marcy said, "I'm worried."
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "Don't worry." Eyes opened, he stared at t
he wall of the brick building in front of them as he rubbed the back of his neck. In a quiet, sheepish voice, he said, "City hall's right over there, right?" He nodded to his side.
"Yeah…?"
He swallowed, hard, still looking at the brick wall. "I was thinkin', maybe we should just go in there today and get a marriage license."
Marcy's mouth fell open. For a moment, she wondered if her heart stopped beating, out of pure shock. She'd spent most of the last twenty-four hours sobbing uncontrollably, afraid they were breaking up. And now she sat in a rented car outside city hall, on the receiving end of the worst marriage proposal in history?
She turned in her seat to face him, waiting for him to look at her, but he averted her gaze. She watched his eyes repeat a pattern from the windshield to the steering wheel, to the rearview mirror, then back to the windshield.
After a long silence, Ramon shrugged and weakly said, "So?"
"So?" Marcy reached across the seat and grabbed his arm, digging in with her fingernails. "Is that supposed to be a marriage proposal?"
Ramon's face scrunched up as he let out a groan. "Damn it, woman! Why you gotta ruin everything?"
Marcy stammered a little then choked out, "Ruin what? Your big romantic gesture?" She huffed as she let go of his arm. "Trust me, there's nothing to ruin."
His eyes rolled and he hit the steering wheel with his palm then looked at her for the first time since they parked. "You know I ain't into all that flowery bullshit. Come on, let's just walk over there and apply for a license. We'll come back again in a few days after the waiting period and make it legal. No big deal."
"Have you lost your mind?" Her eyes widened, blinking at him like he was unreal. "Seriously? I don't get a marriage proposal? What about an engagement ring? Did you buy me one?"
Ramon gestured toward the window. "There's a jewelry store a few blocks away. I figured we could go there after we apply for the license."
Marcy smirked. "Oh yeah? Then what? You wanna walk to the closest fast food restaurant to celebrate over a five dollar value meal?"
Ramon's eyebrows lifted. "Is that what you want? Are you hungry?"
She threw her hands up in the air. "Are you stupid?" Shaking her head, she straightened her back against the seat, staring out the windshield. "Geez, Ramon. I can't believe you. Is this all because you want me to move to Turnbrook? Why the hell would any man think a woman would enjoy this?"
Ramon let the back of his head fall against the head rest. He stared up at the roof. "I didn't want you to break up with me on the way to the jewelry store. You know, like you did with that asshole that one time."
Marcy's jaw dropped. "That's what this is about? That was a completely different situation. I realized I wasn't in love with him. That's what really happened."
Frowning, Ramon shook his head. "Well, that story really stuck with me. I thought about whisking you off in a private jet to Vegas but I figured you wouldn't get on the plane till you knew where we were goin'. And if you knew it was Vegas, you'd break up with me on the way there. Like you did with him." He turned to her, his cheek against the seat. "And I really didn't wanna go through that."
She gulped, her heart softening. "So, you brought me downtown to apply for a marriage license? You know there's a three-day waiting period, right? So, I'd still have plenty of time to break up with you after we apply."
"Yeah." He shrugged. "But at least we'd have a marriage license with our names on it. That's more than that asshole ever got. And then I could spend the next three days makin' sure you don't change your mind." He reached for her hand. "I fuckin' hate the thought of you with that guy. Or anyone else."
"Okay. Let me get this straight. It's not that you really wanna be with me. You just don't want anyone else to have me. Is that correct?"
"No." Ramon scooted closer and moved his hand to her knee. Slowly, he said, "If I don't want anyone else to have you, it means I want you for myself. You get it? For me. Only."
With great reluctance, Marcy felt herself weakening. She was still confused about why he thought bringing her down here to apply for a marriage license was a good way to get her to marry him. And damn it, she wanted to make him suffer for this horribly unromantic display. But perhaps this display wasn't as horribly unromantic as she originally thought. With a thin layer of tears in her eyes, Marcy said, "I'm surprised you didn't try to brand me like one of your cows. Put your mark of ownership on me forever."
"Thought about it but I figured you'd never talk to me again."
Marcy let out one single laugh, then turned in her seat to face him. She peered deep in his eyes. "Do you love me, Ramon?"
His eyes narrowed to tiny slits. "Would I be tryin' to marry you if I didn't?"
She cocked one brow.
Ramon sighed, his glossy eyes showing his pain. He looked as though he could crumble at any moment. In a weak voice, he said, "Damn it, Marcy. Yes. I love you."
She inhaled a sharp breath. Tears spilled down her cheeks. She whispered, "Really?"
Nodding, he whispered, "Yeah." Then he reached across the seat and pulled her into a kiss.
And it became the most romantic moment of Marcy's life.
A minute later when he let her go, he said, "You want a real proposal, don't you?"
Shyly, she said, "Yeah. But that doesn't mean you have to get down on one knee and be all sappy about it. You don't have to put on a suit and take me out to dinner, either. But I'd like a better story to tell people than whatever this was."
He grunted. "Yeah, yeah. I know." Then he stared off vacantly at the windshield.
She giggled nervously under her breath. "I'm gonna say 'yes' when you ask. You know that, right?"
Instantly, Ramon's eyes perked up and he gave her a dumbfounded stare. "Really? You're sure?"
"Yes, I'm sure. Like I said, we just need a good story to tell people, you know, like our kids… someday." She cleared her throat. "You do want kids, don't you?"
"Uh-huh." He licked his lips, his eyes bouncing thoughtfully around the car. "So, you really wanna marry me?"
"Yes."
"Okay." Eyebrows furrowed, Ramon nodded as if he was deep in thought. "I figured I'd have to trick you into it."
"Why? Because of what happened with Andrew?" Marcy shook her head. "I told you. I didn't love him. But I love you." Marcy grinned at him, and he grinned softly in return. She put her hand against his cheek, then smoothed it up to the top of his head as her fingers wove into his dark, wavy hair.
In response, Ramon closed his eyes and let out a satisfied moan.
As she massaged his scalp with her fingers, she said, "If you really wanna marry me, you're gonna have to meet me halfway on a few things."
He opened his eyes and smirked.
"Just hear me out." Marcy cleared her throat and withdrew her hand to her lap. "We can go in there and try to apply for a license but I think they require two forms of identification. I remember that from when I helped a friend a few years ago. They need—"
"Your social security card?" Ramon patted his pocket, over his wallet. "I have yours. Got it when you were in the bathroom getting ready earlier."
Her mouth dropped open. "How'd you know where to find it?"
Shrugging, he said, "I saw it a couple weeks ago when you were looking for something in your closet." He smirked. "You should probably do a better job of hiding stuff like this. But it's okay. I'll hide all your important shit with my important shit after I move you back into my house."
"I can't believe you already have my social security card." Marcy sighed. "That's sweet, but kinda creepy."
"Yeah." Ramon nodded proudly. "So, you wanna go in there and apply? Or would you rather go to Vegas? Or somewhere else?"
"I don't know. This is happening so fast. I haven't had time to think about it."
"I get it." He looked at her thoughtfully. "You want a big wedding or something?" His expression changed; he looked like he was in deep pain. "'Cause I gotta tell you, I've been in two weddings
recently, and they were nice and all, but they were both a real pain in my ass."
Marcy laughed. "Yeah. I was in Patty's wedding, then Cara's. I completely understand."
"You get me. I love that about you." Ramon sighed, combing a lock of hair away from her face with his fingers. "So, Vegas? Or do you wanna have a small wedding here in three days?"
"Wow. You really wanna do this soon, huh?"
"Yes." His eyes widened. "I want you to be my wife. And I don't like waiting."
Marcy smiled, her heart swelling.
Ramon took both of her hands. "I have an idea. Let's go in there and apply for the license. In three days, we have a little wedding. Hell, we can have it in your living room. I don't fuckin' care."
"Or we can go back to Texas? Apply for a license there and have a quick wedding at the ranch?"
"Hmm." His face scrunched up as he thought it over. "Nah. It'll be a hassle there. I'd rather have it here and stay here with you till then." He smiled. "And then spend another week or two on a honeymoon."
"Wow. That's a lot of time off. You never do that."
"I know. But I need to. Besides, I got Victor helpin' out. Henry's there for a little while longer. I need to spend some time with my woman." Ramon stretched his arm around her shoulders. "Just us."
Marcy snuggled against him. "I love that idea. But we gotta start looking for someone to officiate the wedding. And we need witnesses. Tom and Patty will be there. But we should probably tell everyone else in case they get upset later—"
Ramon groaned. "All right. Fuck it. Vegas. I don't have the patience for all that bullshit. Let's get goin'."
Marcy sat up straight. "Okay. But you're still taking all that time off, right?"
"Absolutely." Ramon put his arms behind her back, his warm lips descending on hers.
Marcy let a moan slip into his mouth. She reached up and locked her hands behind his neck as she surrendered to him, his tongue dancing slowly around hers
After a little while longer, Ramon slowly broke the kiss and put his forehead against hers, breathing heavily. "Come on." He took another breath. "We got places to go."
"Wow." In a lovestruck stupor, Marcy asked, "You're really anxious to do this, huh?"