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"But?" I press.
"I don’t want to mess it up."
I scoot my chair closer to the table, wishing we weren't separated by it. "It’s usually the men who mess things up," I reassure her.
"True." Her lips begin to smile again.
The waiter interrupts us, and all I want to do is send him away. "Can I get you anything else? Dessert? We have flourless chocolate cake, crème brûlée, and our famous New York cheesecake."
I glance at Poppy.
"We’re talking about our future here and marriage, so I think we’re going to need more wine rather than dessert," Poppy confides.
I try to stifle my laughter. "Can we have another bottle, please?" I ask the waiter.
He beams, "Absolutely, Mr. Sterling," and then hurries off.
"You really want to marry me?" Poppy asks with a deadpan expression.
I stand, bringing my chair next to hers, then sit down. I tuck her hair behind her ear. "I'd go to a courthouse right now if you'd agree."
Her smile is there, but it doesn’t fully reach her eyes. "I would go,” she pauses,“Maybe a courthouse is best," she muses.
"I've seen you excited, and this isn't it," I admit. I feel like I’ve been punched in the gut. "I fucked it up, didn't I. This was meant to be a fun date, and I turned it south." Why the heck did I bring up rings and marriage?
"No," Poppy replies quickly. "I am excited, Jules. I love you, and I want to marry you. A part of me wants to accept that offer and get married now." She runs her fingers over my knuckles. "It's just that every girl dreams of her big day, Jules, but I don’t have my mom to help me pick out a dress, my dad to walk me down the aisle, or my brothers to scare you into behaving."
My heart drops. I lift her hand and slowly kiss each finger. "I know you don't have them, but you have me, and I'll do everything I can to fill their roles. I’ll help you pick out a dress and walk you down the aisle, and as for your brothers’shoes to fill, you never need to worry because I won’t mess this up. Plus, you've got Harper, and she's scarier than any father or brother-in-law could ever be."
A lone tear falls from Poppy’s eye. I want to reach out and catch it and keep it safe from prying eyes.
"I love you," she whispers as she leans into my side.
I lean in and kiss the top of her head, wanting to do a lot more, but I resist since the waiter is coming back with the bottle of wine. He uncorks it and pours a glass in a rushed motion, trying to gauge the situation.
Once he leaves, I hand her the glass. "I'm not rushing you. This just came up, and it's something we should discuss. We always move quickly, so let's take it slow. Do you want to marry me one day, Pumpkin?" I ask.
She giggles. "Is that question your way of taking it slow?" she teases.
"It’s as slow as I can go with you, Pumpkin. When I’m not with you, I feel like I’m going crazy. So basically, marrying me would be saving my soul," I confess.
"In that case, yes, I’d like to marry you one day, if only to save you from fire and brimstone," she replies. Her smile widens, and she's no longer gripping the wine glass like a life vest, so I take that as genuine.
"Good. See, that was slow and easy," I kiss her lips, tasting the aged wine lingering on them.
"Do you want me to surprise you with a ring, or do you have a style in mind?" I continue. I want to know because when the time is right, I want it to be perfect. I don't want to muddle it like I am now.
She takes a sip of wine.“I basically want a mountain on my hand. The bigger, the better.” She says. That's good; she’s back to her playful self.“I’m joking,” she adds.
“I know,” I smirk.
"I've never really thought about it. My mom had a simple gold band."
"What do you want?" I inquire.
She takes her time to think it over.“Something that looks old and loved," she says.
What the heck does that mean?
