Big Pickle: A Secret Boss Romantic Comedy - JJ Knight Page 0,81

To leave? To leave me?

“Of course you do. I just wanted to get a bead on where you thought you were headed.”

I lift my head to look in his eyes. I don’t see anything alarming there, a need to escape or tell me hard truths about our future.

My belly settles. “I think it’s New Year’s Eve, and we are at an amazing, glamorous party hosted by your own family, and these things can wait for another time.”

He relaxes at that, and I know it was the right thing to say.

The song ends, and we part to clap along with the other dancers.

“Let’s get away from the noise for a bit,” Jason says.

We wander hand-in-hand through the ballroom and out the side doors. A large tiled balcony overlooks Central Park. Despite being quite far away from the craziness of Times Square, the revelry here is apparent, with a nonstop flow of pedestrians walking along the sidewalks and clumping around the carts still open along the streets.

I shiver despite my long sleeves, and Jason wraps his arms around me. “We don’t have to stay out here long.”

“I’ll be okay for a minute. It is beautiful.”

“I try not to take any of this for granted,” he says. “In fact, I don’t take much of anything for granted.”

“It’s a good way to live.”

He squeezes me, his chin on my shoulder. “I love you, Nova Strong.”

I turn around in his arms. “And I love you, too. Sentimental tonight? Is it the competition? The fact that we’re here in New York?”

He stares into my eyes. “I’ve been caught up in this idea that I should do big things. Grand gestures. Fireworks, barbershop quartets, and synchronized dancing. But I feel like that’s old Jace. Not who I am now. But I can’t seem to get past it.”

I press my hands into his cheeks. “Good Lord, Jason, what are you talking about? You know I’m not a showy person. I’m not big on being on display or going viral or showing up on everyone’s Instagram feed. I don’t need ten thousand likes to know something important has happened.”

My knees tremble. I think I’ve figured out why Jason is so nervous tonight, why he keeps pressing me about my plans now the competition is over.

“So, what makes a special occasion special to you then?” His eyes are earnest on mine. He really wants to know.

I look out over the park. “Seeing beauty all around me.” I look up at him. “Being with the person I care about the most.”

He bites his lip. “Then maybe this is the perfect moment.”

My heart hammers. He’s going to do it.

“Nova,” he says. “Wait. Let me start over.”

I giggle. “Start over with what?”

“I’m supposed to get down on one knee,” he says.

Now I’m laughing. “So why aren’t you?”

“Shit. I’m screwing this up.” He pushes his hair off his forehead. “And I just said shit during my marriage proposal.”

Now I’m laughing so hard I don’t think I can give him a straight answer even if he does ask. “Are you proposing?”

“Yes. No. I don’t know.”

I force myself to sober up. “All right, Jason. If that’s your intention, let me step away. That’ll give you the opportunity to pull yourself together.”

He lets out a long breath. “Okay. Take two. Pretend you don’t know anything.”

I turn around, my hands clasped together like a Southern Belle in an antebellum movie. “Oh, what a beautiful starry night. It’s New Year’s Eve and the gardens are so beautiful.” I may have even added a little southern twang I usually suppress at all cost.

“Nova?” Jason’s voice has a nervous note to it.

I turn around. Jason is down on one knee, and he holds up a black velvet box, cocked open to reveal the most outrageous diamond I’ve ever seen in real life.

“Jason?” I am honestly aghast. This whole vision in front of me is hard to believe. Jason’s beautiful hands, holding up this gorgeous ring. His tuxedo. His anxious expression, as if I could ever say no to him.

Greta’s voice cuts through the quiet. “Oh my God! Is Jason proposing to Nova?”

“You better hurry up,” I tell Jason. “I think they’re on to us.”

Jason turns his head, but it’s too late. Greta has led a contingent to the ballroom doors. “He is! He is proposing! Get out here, quick!”

The partygoers quickly pile up at the doors. A million cell phones lift, some of them snapping photos with flashes, others set to video.

“I think you’re getting your big moment,” I say. “You better make it a good one.”

Jason’s gaze never wavers. “Nova Strong, love of my life, the most perfect, beautiful, strong woman I’ve ever known, will you do me the honor of being my wife?”

I take a step forward. If this is going to go viral, I might as well throw in a product placement.

“Jason Pickle, eldest brother of the Pickle Delicatessen Dynasty, love of my life, maker of dill dough, creator of dreams, I would be delighted and honored and so very lucky to be your wife.”

Jason’s eyes shine as he stands up and pulls the ring from the box. He slides it onto my finger and draws me into his arms.

“I guess I have to kiss you in front of all these people,” he whispers against my cheek.

“Think of it as a free advertising opportunity,” I say.

He smiles against my cheek. “Nova, you are the best thing that’s ever happened to the Pickles.”

“I only want to be the best thing that’s ever happened to yours.”

He drags me against him, and his mouth lands on mine. A great cheer rises up from the ballroom. Flashes rain down on us.

The voice of the emcee, amplified over the sound speaker, breaks through the applause. “Time for the countdown. Say it with me! Ten, nine, eight…”

The crowd returns to the ballroom as waiters scurry to provide last-minute champagne to the revelers.

We have the balcony to ourselves again as the last seconds of this crazy year tick down to a close.

When the cheer goes up, and fireworks start somewhere in the distance, Jason draws me against him. “This has been the best year of my life,” he says.

I wrap my arms around his neck. “Mine, too.”

“Do you think it’s ever going to get better than this?”

“It doesn’t have to,” I say. “It only needs to be just as good.”