Page 122 of Home Grown Talent

Owen put a hand to his chest and whispered, “Oh my God, did you just propose?”

Mason punched his arm. “Shut up.”

“If you want to get down on one knee…”

Mason laughed. “Oh my God, shut up. If and when I ask, you’ll know about it, okay?”

Owen clasped his hands over his heart. “He wants to marry me,” he gasped dramatically.

Mason was laughing in earnest now, his green eyes bright with humour and happiness. And right then, in that moment, Owen felt a stab of such perfect joy that he didn’t even know what to do with the feeling. So he just let it fill him up and, grinning like an idiot, leaned forward to kiss his love.

Mason’s lips were soft and warm. He murmured Owen’s name and slid his arms around him, pulling him closer. Owen thought, This is happiness. This is joy. And in that moment, he understood, perfectly and profoundly, what led people to blurt out those old hackneyed words. Will you marry me?

He almost said them then, but he didn’t want to do it when they were joking around, when Mason mightn’t think he meant it. He’d save that for another day.

And besides, now he had other things on his mind.

“Since we’re having a lazy weekend,” he murmured between kisses, “shall we go back to bed?”

He felt Mason’s lips curve up against his own.

“Yeah,” Mason breathed. “Let’s do that.”

* * *

The End