Simple Perfection(72)

I had met her for the first time in this very spot. She'd been wearing tiny little shorts, looking sexy as hell, and had no idea how to pump gas. I had needed a distraction from my life and there she was.

"Damn, I was hoping I could pump it for you," I said.

She pressed her lips together in a smile and shrugged. "If you really want to, then you can."

"I need you to pop the door," I told her, pointing to the little door where the fuel went.

"Oh! I saw you and forgot to do that." I watched as she turned around and bent inside the car to push the button.

I reached into my pocket and pulled out the small box that I had kept hidden in my sock drawer for a week. Della turned around and started to say something but stopped when I went down on one knee.

"A year ago I was lost. My life was a f**ked-up mess. I stopped to get gas right here and found this gorgeous brunette who couldn't pump her gas. I then somehow convinced her to eat with me. She made me laugh and made me horny as hell. When the night was over and I had to leave her sleeping on that bed in the hotel, it was hard. I didn't want to. But my life was f**ked and she was traveling the world, finding herself."

I stopped as Della reached up and wiped a tear that was running down her face. Her big blue eyes were swimming with tears.

"Then she came back into my life and saved me from hell. She changed my world. She taught me to love and she owns my soul."

Della's small hand went up to cover her mouth and a sob came out.

"Della Sloane, will you marry me?"

She was nodding before I could get the words out of my mouth. I stood up and slipped the diamond that I'd spent weeks trying to find onto her finger. When I found it I had known it was the one. It was worthy enough to grace Della's hand.

"Yes," she finally said before throwing her arms around my neck. "Yes, yes, yes," she chanted, clinging to me.

I held her against me and realized that if there was no such thing as fate, then someone had to be up there dealing out winning hands.

"Can we skip the Mexican and go back to that hotel room instead?" I asked her.

She tilted her head back and flashed me a saucy smile. "What about your truck? I don't want to skip that part."

Neither did I.