Fake Boyfriend - Miley Maine Page 0,74

Was Jackson about to propose? A squeal left my mouth, and both of my hands came up to my face.

I heard scuffling nosies, and glanced out to the street, where five of my friends were lined up on the sidewalk, snapping photos.

Then Jackson went down on one knee, and pulled a ring box out of his pocket. “From the moment I first saw you in that airport security line, I knew you were someone special. And you haven’t stopped surprising me. Every single day, I look forward to talking to you, whether I’m here in the States, or overseas,” he said. “Will you marry me, and be my wife?”

“Yes!” I yelled. “I will!” I’d had no idea this was coming. If anyone had asked me, I’d have said we were waiting until we’d known each other longer. But really, in my heart, I knew who Jackson was. He was brave, and strong, and honest, and he was ethical. And he loved me, and I loved him, and that’s what was important.

Plus we’d survived several major crimes in our first week of knowing each other. We’d made it through an attempted robbery, a kidnapping and almost-ransom attempt, and the grand prize, we’d lived through my cousin’s husband trying to kill us while taking millions of my dollars.

But that jerk was locked in prison. And unfortunately it was a white collar prison, instead of maximum security, because of his family connections. But thanks to the weapons, and the kidnapping, and the drugging, he’d gotten twenty years with no parole.

He pulled the ring from the box, and I held out my left hand. He slid the ring onto my finger. The fit was perfect. “I know this ring,” I said. It was an antique ruby, cut into an oval, with diamonds set around the oval.

“It was your grandmother’s. She wanted you to have it.”

“You talked to my family?” I asked. I knew what my family was like. Jackson liked my grandmother, but she was just as intense as my mother was. I knew he was tough, but it was really impressive that he approached my grandmother for suggestions. And I would much rather have a ring that meant something.

“All of them,” he said. “I started with your father.”

I rushed forward and landed on my knees in front of him. “I can’t believe you. I had no idea!”

He hugged me tight. “None at all?”

I held my hand up to admire the ring. “None!”

He stood up, taking me with him. Then he sat her on her feet on the porch. “We still have an audience. Wave.”

Still giddy, I turned and waved at all of my friends, who were still taking photos. Then I held up my left hand to show off my ring.

My best friend screamed out, “She said yes!”

Then all of the guests started streaming up the front walk to my house, hugging us and shouting their well wishes at us. I stood on my tiptoes to whisper in Jackson’s ear. “I had no idea you were so romantic.”

“I’m not,” he said. “I asked you friends, and they said you’d want a photo of your engagement, so after that, this all came together.”

“Well, asking my friends is romantic in my book.”

“Well, don’t tell anyone. Army Rangers aren’t supposed to be romantic.”

“Your secret is safe with me,” I said.

We managed to make it through the party, and it was really fun to watch it turn from a housewarming party into an engagement party. My family all showed up too, and most of them were complimentary of my house, even though it boggled their minds that I’d choose to deliberately not live in a mansion, but to make my home in a regular, everyday brick house in suburban Georgia.

Marie even showed up. “Your house is really nice,” she said.

“Thank you,” I said. “I’m glad you came.”

And I was glad she came. The last year had been rough for her, thanks to the media storm that swirled for months after Douglas’s arrest.

I also felt a little bad, because the ring I was wearing on my left hand had belonged to the woman who was Marie’s grandmother too. But our grandmother hadn’t offered Marie the ring when she married Douglas. Or maybe he hadn’t asked. There was no way I’d be asking now.

The party lasted for a full three hours, until finally the last guest left.

I face planted right onto the couch.”So tired. Who knew accepting congratulatory messages and goodwill could be so tiring?” I pulled the pillow