Page 115 of The Mistletoe Kisser

“But… but it hasn’t been two years yet. You have a timeline.”

He rolled his eyes. “I don’t need another year to be certain. I’vebeencertain since last Solstice. I love you, Sam. I’ve loved you since you called me dirty hot and yelled at me over a sheep.”

She brought her gloved hands to her mouth. “You’re sure?” she pressed. “Absolutely sure? Because I want this. I want this so bad. But if you have any doubts or feel pressured or—”

“Sparkle, I’m freezing my ass off down here. I need you to say yes so I can stand up, put this ring on your finger and kiss the hell out of you.”

“Yes.” She whispered it. Then said it again. And a third time for good measure as he swept her up in his arms and spun her around.

When he released her, it was only long enough to slip off her glove and slide the diamond band onto her finger. “I didn’t want to get you some honking solitaire you wouldn’t be able to wear to work,” he said, holding up her hand to admire the glint of snow and diamonds.

She still felt dizzy, but in a warm, happy, drunk kind of way. “I love it.” She raised her eyes to his face. “I love you. So much that it leaves me breathless.”

He pointed above their heads, a wicked grin on his kissable mouth. She looked up and saw the mistletoe hanging from the sign.

“Damn. For a guy who doesn’t do romance, you did good.”

“Just don’t tell Eva. I don’t want to have to consult with her on another hero,” he said, dragging her into his arms. He buried his face in her hair.

“I’m going to keep you to myself,” she promised.

“Merry Christmas, Sam.”

“Happy Solstice, Ryan.”

He kissed her as the snow fell. As the dog barked. As her heart beat steadily against his.

“By the way. I looked at our finances and I ran a few preliminary budget numbers for the wedding and honeymoon…”