in for some covert operations.
“Yeah. You are crying, thinking I’m gone. Then what?”
“Um, then what...” She took a deep breath, trying to pull her focus off the coffee table and back to the fantasy. “Um, okay, so then I’m having dinner, alone at a small table on a restaurant balcony and you show up.”
“You weren’t so brokenhearted that you lost your appetite?”
“I never lose my appetite.” For anything. “So you show up, you sweep me into your arms and, over my delighted giggles, you carry me across the beach, up the side of a mountain where you set me down and point to the sand.”
Aiden opened his mouth as if to protest, then shook his head and gestured that she keep talking.
“Spelled out in rocks across the beach are the words, Sage, will you marry me, ” she finished in her most dramatic tone. Which probably lost a little of its edge when she giggled at the end.
Aiden stared for so long, she wondered if he was running some kind of top secret mental background check of her personal history to see if she’d ever actually been proposed to like that. Since Sage had spent most of her dating life making sure the guys she went out with were more commitment-phobic than she was, she knew the answer he’d find was a big fat no.
“As interesting as that would be,” he finally said, his voice gruff enough to assure her that he was very, very interested. “I don’t think anyone is going to believe I’d go AWOL to carry you to the top of a mountain.”
“No?”
“Let’s try something just a little more traditional.”
Pulling a face, Sage set her coffee on the burl table and shrugged.
“Okay, fine. You took me to dinner at a nice restaurant, toasted me with pricey champagne, and hid the ring—which I still don’t have, by the way—in a slice of cake that was served for dessert.”
“I said traditional, not cliché.”
Oooh, interesting distinction.
She leaned one arm along the back of the couch, the nubby fabric rough against the soft flesh of her underarm. Her fingers were centimeters away from his shoulder, but she didn’t touch. Not yet.
“Why don’t you tell me what you consider traditional then,” she invited quietly.
The setting sun cast a warm, orange glow over the room, highlighting his features as he looked at her. His eyes were intense, but a smile played around the corners of his mouth.
“I consider a traditional proposal to be romantic. Not something that can be copied from a movie,” he said, his shrug just a little uncomfortable. As if admitting that he’d ever seen a romantic proposal in a movie put his man-card in danger. “Romantic is something that suits the couple. You know, it’s personal.”
“What kind of proposal would suit us?” Unable to resist any longer, her fingers trailed along his shoulder, soft as a whisper. “If we were a couple, of course.”
“A coded letter sent from an aircraft carrier to a commune on a mountain in Tibet?” he suggested.
“Try again,” Sage suggested with narrowed eyes, not sure if he was actually teasing. “I think you might have missed the romance angle with that scenario.”
“What if it was a secret code using romantic movie titles?” he asked, frowning.
Sage gave an amused groan. She knew that look wasn’t because she’d dissed the romance of his scenario. Nope. This was what Aiden did. He got an idea, then he obsessed with it until he found a way to make it work.
Which meant that somehow, some way, this code was going to be a part of their engagement story. Her dad would like that. So they might as well make it a fun one.
But, later.
She shifted, making a show of setting her cup on the table and surreptitiously inching just a little closer so their knees brushed.
Right now, she had other things she wanted to clarify.
Like how good her hotshot SEAL was with his hands. His mouth. And any other parts of his body that she might get her hands on.
* * *
A IDEN WAS PRETTY SURE that Sage
“Yeah. You are crying, thinking I’m gone. Then what?”
“Um, then what...” She took a deep breath, trying to pull her focus off the coffee table and back to the fantasy. “Um, okay, so then I’m having dinner, alone at a small table on a restaurant balcony and you show up.”
“You weren’t so brokenhearted that you lost your appetite?”
“I never lose my appetite.” For anything. “So you show up, you sweep me into your arms and, over my delighted giggles, you carry me across the beach, up the side of a mountain where you set me down and point to the sand.”
Aiden opened his mouth as if to protest, then shook his head and gestured that she keep talking.
“Spelled out in rocks across the beach are the words, Sage, will you marry me, ” she finished in her most dramatic tone. Which probably lost a little of its edge when she giggled at the end.
Aiden stared for so long, she wondered if he was running some kind of top secret mental background check of her personal history to see if she’d ever actually been proposed to like that. Since Sage had spent most of her dating life making sure the guys she went out with were more commitment-phobic than she was, she knew the answer he’d find was a big fat no.
“As interesting as that would be,” he finally said, his voice gruff enough to assure her that he was very, very interested. “I don’t think anyone is going to believe I’d go AWOL to carry you to the top of a mountain.”
“No?”
“Let’s try something just a little more traditional.”
Pulling a face, Sage set her coffee on the burl table and shrugged.
“Okay, fine. You took me to dinner at a nice restaurant, toasted me with pricey champagne, and hid the ring—which I still don’t have, by the way—in a slice of cake that was served for dessert.”
“I said traditional, not cliché.”
Oooh, interesting distinction.
She leaned one arm along the back of the couch, the nubby fabric rough against the soft flesh of her underarm. Her fingers were centimeters away from his shoulder, but she didn’t touch. Not yet.
“Why don’t you tell me what you consider traditional then,” she invited quietly.
The setting sun cast a warm, orange glow over the room, highlighting his features as he looked at her. His eyes were intense, but a smile played around the corners of his mouth.
“I consider a traditional proposal to be romantic. Not something that can be copied from a movie,” he said, his shrug just a little uncomfortable. As if admitting that he’d ever seen a romantic proposal in a movie put his man-card in danger. “Romantic is something that suits the couple. You know, it’s personal.”
“What kind of proposal would suit us?” Unable to resist any longer, her fingers trailed along his shoulder, soft as a whisper. “If we were a couple, of course.”
“A coded letter sent from an aircraft carrier to a commune on a mountain in Tibet?” he suggested.
“Try again,” Sage suggested with narrowed eyes, not sure if he was actually teasing. “I think you might have missed the romance angle with that scenario.”
“What if it was a secret code using romantic movie titles?” he asked, frowning.
Sage gave an amused groan. She knew that look wasn’t because she’d dissed the romance of his scenario. Nope. This was what Aiden did. He got an idea, then he obsessed with it until he found a way to make it work.
Which meant that somehow, some way, this code was going to be a part of their engagement story. Her dad would like that. So they might as well make it a fun one.
But, later.
She shifted, making a show of setting her cup on the table and surreptitiously inching just a little closer so their knees brushed.
Right now, she had other things she wanted to clarify.
Like how good her hotshot SEAL was with his hands. His mouth. And any other parts of his body that she might get her hands on.
* * *
A IDEN WAS PRETTY SURE that Sage
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