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His expression brightened. “Why don’t we get one together?”
At least his reaction wasn’t a you’re-going-to-live-in-my-cave-or-else demand. “This would be my apartment.”
He crossed his arms. “Why can’t it be our apartment?”
So they could share a bed, get to know each other better, or…? She tucked her hair behind her ears. Here goes nothing. “That assumes there is an us.”
“That’s my topic.”
Her mouth dropped open. His expression gave her no clue which direction he planned to take the “topic,” but she snapped her jaw shut and swept a hand. “The floor is yours.”
He slicked a hand over hair so thick and tight a strand didn’t stand a chance of getting out of line. She hugged herself. This couldn’t be good.
Mitch cleared his throat. “Ms. Catherine Hurley.”
“I thought we were finally on a first-name basis.” She clutched her arms.
He scowled. “Can you cut me some slack? I’m a little on edge.”
This definitely didn’t bode well. She sucked in a deep breath, steeling herself for the worst.
“I’ve got something for you.” He pulled a small box from his pocket and thumbed open the red velvet lid.
A diamond solitaire ring nestled inside, and those stupid butterflies whacked hard at her heart. She would have been happy with them simply liking each other. For a while, anyway. “You didn’t have to get me a ring.”
“It’s appropriate. Southern gentlemen are traditional, and I thought you might not want to wear that Mardi Gras necklace around all the time.”
“You want me to wear this?”
“Why not? It’s twenty-four-carat gold and will hold up even when you take a shower, do dishes or other things.” He traced a finger down her cheek.
The shiver coursing through her at that small touch quelled her jitters. Not much distance separated them, but she stepped closer. “Does this mean what I think it does?”
Mitch took her hand and slipped the ring onto her finger. “Will you marry me?”
She rubbed her fingers together so the diamond sparkled.
“Aren’t you going to say something?”
“It’s a perfect fit.” She gaped at him. How had he known her ring size?
“I’ve never said this to another woman.” His mouth tightened and he dropped to one knee. “I love you and I don’t want you to walk out of my life now that I’ve found you, but go ahead. Hit me with your arguments.”
“You’ll never get one from me. Not on this.” Cath roped her arms around his neck. “I love you too.”
Mitch rose and pulled her close for a kiss. Right there on the busiest street of the French Quarter. A burst of applause erupted from the coffee stand’s patio.
She pulled out of his embrace. The patrons in the café continued to clap. Heat rose to her cheeks. Even Mitch’s face showed some unusual color. She leaned closer to whisper, “We’re putting on a spectacle.”
“This is the French Quarter. People expect one.”
Hal wove through the tables and waved them over. “The coffee’s getting cold.”
“We’re coming.” Mitch wound an arm around her waist and whispered, “That’s the only thing getting cold.”
“Good to know.”