“You asked his permission?” I frown at him. What is this, the nineteen-fifties?
“No, but I did want his blessing.”
“And he gave it?” I blink in surprise.
“Well, he didn’t punch me in the face.”
“Oh well then,” I chuckle.
“And he told me to bring you by after so you could show you mom your rock.” He flashes his eyebrows at me.
“Wow!”
“I know.”
I hold out my hand and admire my rock. “It’s beautiful. Thank you,” I whisper.
He reaches out and takes my hand, lifting it to his lips and kissing my knuckles. “You’re welcome.”
“It’s very big,” I say as it sparkles on my finger.
“I know, and I know you’re not usually into flashy stuff, so I bought it for me, not you. You can change it if you don’t like it though?”
“I love it, Jax,” I say with a contended sigh. “But what do you mean, you bought it for you?”
He turns to me with a wicked glint in his eye. “I wanted it to be unmissable on your hand. Like so big it could be seen from space,” he laughs. “Then everyone will see it and know you’re mine.”
“Your possessiveness is so hot,” I purr.
“You’d better get used to it, Angel.”
As Jax, Matthias and I stand on my parents’ doorstep, I feel so nervous I might throw up. Matthias yawns loudly and Jax picks him up.
The door is opened by Magda and she looks surprised when she sees us. “Why didn’t you use your key?” she scolds me.
“I never use it after eight when the boys are in bed. You never know what you might walk into in this house,” I say, recalling the time I caught my parents half-naked in the hallway.
“Ah, yes,” Magda nods. She knows. I wonder how many times she’s caught them in an uncompromising position.
“Lucia.” My mom comes into the hallway as we step inside the house. “Jax.”
“Hey, Mom,” I smile as my father walks up behind her, his hands in his pockets.
I look at Jax and notice that my son has fallen asleep in his arms. God, I love this man so much.
“Is everything okay, sweetheart?” she asks and I hear the concern in her voice.
“Yes, Mom,” I say as I walk toward her. I hold up my hand. “Jax asked me to marry him,” I squeal the words like an excited teenager, as though I’m channeling my sixteen-year-old self, who first laid eyes on the hottest man on the planet in this very hallway.
My mom shrieks too and I love that excitement is her first reaction—not worrying about how my father will react, but genuine happiness for me.
“Oh, Lucia.” She wraps her arms around me and I bury my face in her sweet-smelling hair as my cheeks actually ache from all the smiling.
“I’m so happy for you, sweetheart,” she whispers.
When I look up my father is standing right beside us. “I’m getting married, Papi.”
He wraps his arms around my mom and me together. “Congratulations,mija,” he says and I swear my heart feels like it’s about to burst.