Baewatch - Xavier Neal Page 0,74
around found homes in the hallways beside framed pics of us. We ditched his bed for a bigger one and turned the second living room into a bonus workspace for me. Our shared love of the beach meant only minor changes to décor were necessary, those being more pineapple objects, of course; however, we did invest in fancy new cookware that I am getting a lot of use of.
My boyfriend’s sigh is somewhat defeated. “Why does it look like he doesn’t even care that we’re gone?”
“Why would he care?” I snicker and shut off the screen. “He has at least three new people to pet him, play with him, feed him, and fawn over him. He’s basically being treated like a puppy prince right now.”
“Okay, so, was this a bad idea then? Are we gonna have to unspoil our dog when we get home?”
Hearing all the unity in his question forces me to have to bite back an awe.
I love hearing those words.
I love knowing that we’ve built a life together.
A world.
I just hope it keeps expanding.
“He’ll be fine.” The sweetness in my tone returns his smirk. “Let him enjoy his parent vacation while we enjoy ours.”
Ax’s grin grows crooked along with the angle of his head. “What do you say we enjoy some of that special dessert I’ve had you holding out for?”
“I say…Can I change into something more comfy while you grab it?”
“Definitely.”
“Then I’ll meet you on the couch momentarily…”
Changing out of my maroon fall dress and into one of Ax’s t-shirts is the quicker part of the process, but removing my makeup while slyly replying to a few work emails drags the swiftness down a few notches. To my surprise, my hotel mate doesn’t complain. Doesn’t investigate what’s taking so long. Hell, he doesn’t even make sure I’m still in the bedroom area at all.
His uncharacteristic inattentive nature creates new ripples of nervousness causing me to ask about it as I flop down onto the white couch near the floor-to-ceiling window. “You okay, bae?”
He looks up from where he’s lingering in the small kitchen and tries to offer me a smile. “Yeah…I’m…fine.” He doesn’t pause long enough to allow me to state my worries. “You ready for this?”
“Sure?”
“Gonna…gonna need a little more certainty than that, babe.”
I fold my legs to the side of me and toss him a smirk. “Yes, Ax. I am a thousand percent sure I’m ready for the dessert you so rudely denied me at the restaurant.”
A small laugh escapes on his way over with the dish in hand. “It wasn’t rude.”
“So rude. She barely got the D out before you were denying her.”
His grin grows juvenile.
“Oh…yeah…I heard it.” The brief cringe is followed by my own snickers. “Poor phrasing.”
“It happens…” Ax places the plate on the round coffee table closest to me. “Hopefully, I’m about to do better.”
Confusion regarding his statement pushes me to lean closer to view the treat. The adorable display of the top half of a pineapple on the opposite end of the plate from the hollowed out portion that’s being used as a bowl for the ice cream receives an immediate awe for thoughtfulness that’s abruptly cut short by the item sitting on top of the frozen pile.
Is that…
Is that a…
That can’t be a…
“Ax, is that-” my voice is suddenly stolen by the view of him down on one knee.
“I wanna introduce you tomorrow as my fiancée,” he slowly begins, his hand gently transferring mine into his possession. “And then I wanna introduce you as my fiancée every day after until I can introduce you as my wife.”
Words remain trapped in my throat.
“I want you to be Mrs. Brooklyn Maxwell to all of our friends, Aunty Brooklyn to my niece and nephew, and mom to my children. Our children.”
Hearing his voice shake in nervousness causes my hand to clench his tighter.
“You are the only person in the world I wanna share my life with…my waters with…my boards with…” Another unsteady sigh slips free before he asks, “Brooklyn Headley will you-”
“Yes,” I weakly whisper out while frantically nodding my head. “Yes. Yes!”
His tone is teasing despite the tears in his eyes. “Now, who’s not letting who actually finish?”
There’s no stopping our shared snickering over the terrible wording or the sniffles that are working overtime to keep the floodgates closed.
Ax slides onto the couch beside me, gingerly plucks the ring out of the melting dessert, and dries off the edge using his t-shirt. Once it’s clean – or more accurately as