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“Not your fault.”
She climbs off. “I need to use the bathroom anyhow.”
I grab her hips to steady her. “Hold on to the seats so you don’t fall.”
She’s not gone five minutes before she’s back. Brows raised and face flushed, she holds her hand in front of me. “What the fuck is this?”
Though I’ve stared at the ring a hundred times, I pretend to study it closely. “It looks like an engagement ring.”
Her arm drops to her side. “Jackson!”
“Okay, it’s a tracker.”
She glares at me, her hands planted on her hips. “I’m serious.”
Fine, don’t believe me.
Our eyes remain locked in a stare-down.
“I want a legitimate proposal, O’Reilly.”
The corner of my lip twitches. “I gave you one. Not my fault you slept through it.”
She crosses her arms over her chest. “What did you say?”
My touch is drawn to her belly. “I can’t remember. Something about…I’m stuck with you. You’re stuck with me. We might as well get married.”
“So romantic,” she deadpans.
“I thought so.”
“Are you doing this because of the case?”
A scowl forms between my eyes. “No. I bought that ring when I moved you into the Laguna Beach penthouse.”
“You were that sure of yourself, huh?”
“It’s you or nothing, baby.”
With a shake of her head, the ring still on her finger, she sits next to me. “You’re insane,” she grumbles.
“For you, yes. We’ve established this repeatedly.”
She remains quiet for several long minutes, staring out the window while I stare at her impatiently.
Is that it? I’m literally on the edge of my seat here.
Finally, her head whips around. “I’ll make a deal with you.”
My heart stops. A deal means yes, because I’d agree to anything. My chest swells, and I can’t breathe. I wasn’t expecting yes. I expected to argue for eight to ten hours until I wore her down to a reluctant maybe.
The blood drains from my face, and my mind goes blank. “What?” The word is nothing more than air leaving my lungs.
“I have some questions.” She leans back, her arms folded like an attorney about to cross-examine me on the witness stand. “What if you get bored?”
“Did you somehow forget about all the sex we’ve had lately? Or our sex life in general?”
“Point taken. What if you get sick of sharing me?”