Page 32 of Climb Me Maybe

"Interesting is one word for it.I'm half-worried they'll either become best friends or burn down the entire Strip."

"My money's on both."

Teagan laughs."That's exactly what Connor said.I guess we'll find out Monday when they both get back."

I grin, thinking about the potential for disaster."Vegas won't know what hit it."

When I get home that evening, Imogen's already there, curled up on our couch with a book and a glass of wine.She looks up when I walk in, her smile bright.

"How was your day?"she asks, marking her place and setting the book aside.

"Good.Yours?"

"Exhausting but satisfying.I worked out some serious knots in a software developer's neck.Poor guy spends twelve hours a day hunched over a computer."

I settle beside her, pulling her feet into my lap."Well, I’m sure he’ll be back.You are magic at working out knots."

"Flattery will get you everywhere."But she melts when I start massaging her feet."Mmm,thatwill get you anything you want, too."

"Anything, huh?”

“You heard me.”She chuckles, then lets out a sigh.

I reach into my pocket and pull out the small velvet box I've been carrying around for a week, waiting for the right moment.

Imogen's eyes go wide as she spots it, her wine glass slamming down hard on the coffee table.“Brady...what is that?"

"I know we just talked about kids this morning, but?—"

She launches herself at me before I can finish the sentence, knocking us both sideways on the couch."Yes!"

"I haven't asked you anything yet."

"I don't care.Yes to whatever you're about to ask."

I laugh, rolling us so she's beneath me."Imogen Navarro, will you marry me and put up with all my silliness and stubborn streaks for the rest of our lives?"

"Only if you promise to keep climbing trees and letting me massage your sexy body until we're both too old to care about anything except each other."

I bark out a laugh."Deal."

I slip the ring onto her finger—a simple solitaire that catches the light like a captured firefly.

She stares at it for a long moment, then looks up at me with tears in her eyes.

"I love it so much."

"I’m so happy."

"Me too," she says, pulling me down for a kiss that I’ll remember forever.

"So," I say, as we come up for air."When can we start working on those babies?"

"How about right now?"she replies, getting up from the couch.

I laugh, and stand with her."I love your work ethic."

I squat down so she can climb up on my back and then I carry her to the bedroom.

And as I make love to my fiancée that night—this little pink menace who saw past my fears and convinced me that the best chapters of my life were still being written—I think about how wrong I was six months ago.

Getting older isn't about losing yourself.

It's about having the confidence and the courage to reach for what you want.

And if this is what forty-three looks like, I can't wait to see what fifty has in store.

* * *