Page 159

I told him I’d do it, not because I needed to get into better shape, but to get rid of the trauma of having his stinky tuna-breath lick me again.

Drew had actually laughed out loud at that one, and then Raj had proceeded to kick my ass six ways from Sunday, which was fairly impressive, since it was a fucking Tuesday.

So I was a gross and sweaty mess when I got home, and I immediately hit the shower, which was a goddamn godsend. That and AC meant that I no longer wanted to die, but I still had work to do before Taavi got home from chasing some ungodly number of small Nids all over the woods.

I’d made a point of putting on my lavender t-shirt and a decent pair of jeans when I got dressed because it was six months to the day since I’d unfortunately blurted out the world’s worst proposal.

I wasn’t going to fuck it up that badly again.

Most shifters didn’t wear things like rings or bracelets, since they could get caught up on paws or fall off thinner animal legs—so I hadn’t gotten him a ring. I’d opted for a pendant instead—something that he probably could wear as a dog without choking himself if he didn’t want or have the time to take it off.

It was a silver Yaxche—the Maya tree of life—inlaid with red, white, yellow, and black stones. I’d ordered it from an artisan in Mexico in someplace called Tlacuilolapan. Doc had helped me explain what I wanted to the artist, because I don’t speak Spanish and the very nice woman who made the pendant did not speak English. I hoped Taavi liked it.

I made not brownies, but brownie-bottom peanut butter and chocolate cheesecake and a high-end—not just oh-shit-what’s-in-the-kitchen—alfredo sauce, along with chanterelles and shaved truffles, fresh Hanover tomatoes, and artisan sausage.

Dinner still had about twenty minutes to go when Taavi came in the door, right on schedule. I met him there, putting my arms around him and bending to kiss him.

He kissed me back, but then pushed away, although he let me keep him in my arms.

“Val, I’mdisgusting.” But he was laughing, his hands on my forearms as he looked up at me, his expression open and a little curious.

I kissed his sweaty forehead, tasting salt and what might have been bug spray on my lips. “I don’t care,” I told him. Then I leaned back and looked down at him, still amazed that I could love anyone this much. “Do you know what today is?” I asked him.

He tilted his head a little to the side. “Um. Tuesday?” His mismatched eyes danced, and I knew the little shit was fucking with me. I loved him anyway.

“It is indeed a Tuesday,” I informed him, enjoying how the corners of his eyes crinkled as he grinned up at me. “Do you know whatelsetoday is?”

He shook his head, even though I knew he knew. He was going to make me say it.

I’d made him wait for six months before I agreed to go out on a date with him, so I suppose I owed him.

“It’s been six months since I asked you to marry me,” I managed, my voice a little shaky.

“Has it?” He totally knew. Of course he did.

I smirked at him, and his grin got wider. Then his eyes got big when I stepped back and held out the box with the pendant in it.

“Well, I still want to marry you, so I’m asking again. Taavi Camal, will you marry me?”

He ignored the box, instead reaching for me, his fingers clenching in the collar of my shirt so that he could pull me down and kiss me. But before he did, with his lips just brushing mine, he murmured, “Yes, I will.”

It was the best fucking kiss of my life.