More Than Enough (More Than Series, Book 5) (53 page)

“Just entertain me okay?”

“What…” Her hand loosens on her phone, causing it to fall on the ground. Neither of us bother to pick it up. Instead, I lead her to the glass display cabinet where the rings of the jewelry store are displayed. Right on cue, the clerk comes up behind the counter, her smile warm as she nods at me. Riley hasn’t taken her eyes off mine—because just like the time I surprised her on her birthday, she thinks that seeing what we’re doing will make it real and she’s not ready.

I, on the other hand, have been ready since the night before I deployed.

I keep my eyes on Riley and speak to the clerk, “Do me a favor?”

“Sure,” she responds calmly. She already knows what I’m about to ask.

“Can you pull out the rings and slowly run your finger over them?”

“Sure,” she says again. Same calm from earlier. Riley though—she’s everything but calm. Her chest rises and falls quickly, her mouth parted, her eyes—still locked on mine—filling with tears.
God, she’s beautiful
.

“Take a look,” I tell her.

She shakes her head, her teeth now clamped around her bottom lip.

“Please, Riley.”

She takes a breath, and then another, before looking down at the rings.

I smile, her hand still in mine, my gaze focused on her.

“Okay,” I order the clerk. “Start moving when you’re ready.”

I watch Riley’s eyes move slowly from side to side, tears still falling and rolling down her cheeks. I don’t wipe them away. I’m too focused on watching her—her lips as they tremble, her chest as it rises and falls, rises and falls. I watch her breaths leave her, loud but even, her eyes still moving. Then, suddenly, they freeze. Her eyes widen, her breath catches.

“Stop,” I tell the clerk, watching Riley’s shoulders tense, her gaze still locked on the rings. “Go back.”

Riley gasps, her hand covering her mouth.

“That one,” I say, not bothering to look at the ring yet. “Can we have that one?”

Slowly, Riley’s eyes trail from the ring to me—tears flowing, lips shaking. “What are you doing, Dylan?”

I shrug.

From the corner of my eye, I see the clerk holding out the ring. Carefully, I take it from her and lift Riley’s hand at the same time.

With shaky hands and bated breaths, I find the strength I need to tear my gaze away from Riley’s and look down at the ring. It’s gold with a single diamond in the center.

It’s simple.

It’s perfect.

Just like her.

Without a word, I get down on one knee and place the ring on her finger, hearing her sobs above me. Then I reach into my pocket, pull out a marker, uncap it with my teeth, and press the tip to her arm. I look up at her to see her already watching me. Not my hands, but my face—her own contorted with a held in cry. I take a mental picture of the moment right before we pass The Turning Point.

I sniff back my emotions and look down at her arm, my hands still shaking, making it almost impossible to write my intentions. I glance up at her, she hasn’t taken her eyes off me.

Then I mark her with the words I’d been planning for months.

Marry me, Riley Hudson?

Riley

Every girl thinks
of this moment. The one where the man of your dreams is kneeling in front of you, declaring his love for eternity, hoping to share every single piece of his future as one.

Occasionally, you’ll hear a song on the radio and think, “
That’s my wedding song
” or you’ll see images of dresses or rings online and go “
I’d want something like that.
”

Some even go as far as making stupid Pinterest boards about the perfect moment, the perfect day.

They plan their future, their kids, their house, their lives entwined for eternity.

But as Dylan kneels in front of me, his hands shaking along with his shoulders as he looks up, pleading with me for an answer to the question he’s written on my arm—words I have yet to see—I don’t think about the future.

I think about the past.

I think about what I’ve done in my life that deemed me so lucky that he’s offering me his world. Forever.

I think about us—wondering how it is we got here.

I remember the day our paths collided—him in a fit of rage and me drowning in grief.

And I remember every single day since.

I look down at the boy I love—staring into his eyes—eyes locked on mine… eyes slowly losing confidence.

He’s Here.

Now.

Forever.

And even though I’ve thought about this moment, dreamed about it, picked out the song and the dress and even created a hidden Pinterest board—nothing, and I mean nothing could’ve prepared me for the emotions that come with it.

The tears.

The surprise mixed with expectation.

But most of all the
love.

The love as it wraps around me, suffocating me, drowning me in the best way possible and then forcing its way through my entire body and out my mouth in a single word: “Yes.”

Riley

M
y mom was
there, in the store, standing behind me watching it all go down.

Obviously I’d been too wrapped up in the moment to realize it. It wasn’t until she squealed that I finally turned around and came to.

After her gushing over the ring, and the proposal, Dylan offered to take us both out for lunch to celebrate. It was on the drive to the restaurant when Dylan told me that he had it all planned out.

Turns out Dylan had asked her permission one night when they’d both been up to get a water. Apparently, so Dylan says, she cried more than I did. In fact, she wouldn’t stop crying. She told him about how much she loved me and him and us together, and that she couldn’t be happier—more proud of the man I would one day marry.

Mom and I have a lot in common, it seems, because I love all those things too. About as much as I love her.

He’d gone to the store the day before and spoken to the clerk about his plans and paid for whatever ring I would’ve chosen. He did have a budget, he admitted, but the clerk was more than willing to change things around in the display to accommodate his needs.

“You were that certain?” I ask now, smiling over at him behind the steering wheel.

He glances at me quickly before returning to the road, his smile matching mine. “I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life, Riley Hudson.”

I look down at the ring on my finger, then the words scrawled across my arm. An arm I plan on never washing.
Ever.

When I tell him that, he pushes me away. “You’re gross,” he mumbles, but he’s laughing.

So am I.

We pull into the parking lot of the restaurant he knows is my favorite and after stepping out, he opens my door and takes my hand. “My lady,” he says, bowing his head while helping me out. “Wait. Can I say
my fiancée
? Lady doesn’t seem to do you justice anymore.”

I nod as I jump out. “I’ll allow it.”

“You’ll allow it?” he asks sarcastically, leading me with his hand on the small of my back. “Riley, I hate to break it to you but I’m going to be your husband soon. Your allowance doesn’t mean shit anymore. I say, you do,” he jokes.

I don’t have time to retort before we step through the entrance, the maître de nodding as she welcomes him. “We have you set up in the back room, Mr. Banks.”

“Why do we have the back room?” I whisper, walking behind her as she leads us to room.

He dips his head, his voice a whisper against my ear. “Because fucking you in front of all these people would be probably frowned upon.”

“Dylan!” I elbow his gut.

He winces in pain, right before a chuckle bubbles out him.

Then the door to the back room opens, and I freeze.

Just like everyone else in the room—Eric, Mal, Sydney, my mom and all our close friends. Even Heidi and Bryce are here.

“So?” Lucy asks, half standing.

Next to me, Dylan clears his throat, straightening his shoulders. “Family, friends, ladies and countrymen,” he bellows.

I narrow my eyes at him.
What the hell’s gotten into him?

He curls his hand around my waist and adds, “I’d like you to meet my fiancée.”

I’m not really sure what happens next. It’s just a blur of flailing limbs as they all come charging toward me. Followed by shouts, cheers, handshakes and hugs, in between laughter and tears.

The girls reach for the ring on my hand.

The guys pat Dylan on the back.

And when the initial excitement fades, we sit and we eat.

We laugh some more, cry some more, and we love.

Boy, do we love.

I look over at Dylan, leaning back in his chair next to me, his smile wide and boyish and innocent as he looks around the table, finally landing on me. I shift to my side and hug his stomach. His arm goes around my shoulder, holding me to him as his chest rises with his slow intake of breath. “It’s a good life, Riley Hudson,” he murmurs, kissing the top of my head. “A damn good life.”

I follow his gaze from earlier, watching our families, our friends—new and old—the people who played such a heavy hand in getting us here, by doing nothing more than existing and accepting and loving us, even when it could’ve been impossible to do so. I look over at Jake, who’s already watching us, a slight smile on his face.

Then a loud sound comes from the door of our private room as five police officers step through, their gazes frantic as they search the space in front of them. I look up at Dylan, my heart racing, panic clear on my face.

He hasn’t moved.

An officer stands in front of the others and after looking down at a piece of paper in his hand, lifts his head—his voice loud when he says, “We’re looking for a Jake Andrews, Logan Matthews and Cameron Gordon.”

“I’m Jake Andrews… officer sir…” Jake says, slowly standing up.

“What’s going on?” Mikayla asks, standing with her boyfriend.

Logan and Cameron are on their feet—their fear and panic filled eyes wide and everywhere.

The officer clears his throat. “Arrest them, boys.”

I look over at Dylan again.

He gets up and slams a fist on the table. “Wait one damn minute, good Sir. This is an outrage,” he mocks, same deep voice from earlier.

“Oh, jeez,” I whisper.

“What the fuck did you do, Cam?” Lucy shouts, fork gripped tight in her hand.

“Nothing, babe. Swear it.” He’s as loud as she is.

The cops walk behind the boys, taking their wrists behind their backs and handcuffing them.

The first cop speaks again. “You boys are under arrest for possession of illegal pornography.”

“What!?” Amanda yells, standing in front of Logan now.

“Babe…” he shakes his head, his gaze on hers. “I don’t know what the fuck—”

“Not only is it illegal,” the cop with Logan cuts in. “It’s also fucking weird, boys.”

The officer with Jake shakes his head. “I mean pornography is one thing. Animals… ehhh… we’ve seen it before. But coming on figurines? Vegetables? Clown and monster porn? And don’t even get me started on the inanimate objects! I mean, baseballs? Really?” he says, pointing at Jake. Then motions to Cameron. “And desks? What are you? A deskfucker?”

Slowly, Cameron’s gaze moves to Dylan. “I fucking hate you,” he says.

Dylan raises his hands in surrender. “I didn’t do anything,” he says through his smile.

“Take ’em away, boys,” the lead cop announces. Then looks at Eric. “Thanks for the tip, Banks.”

“You’re going to pay,” Logan warns, his eyes on Dylan.

They get led out of the room and restaurant, hands in cuffs while their girls scurry after them and the rest of us sit in silence, Heidi and Bryce included. The silence only lasts a moment before Dylan bursts out laughing, Heidi following soon after.

“You’re so bad,” I tell Dylan.

His grin gets wider. “Fight or die, Hudson.”

“How did you even…”

He points at Eric. “Had my big brother call in some favors.”

Eric chuckles, so similar to Dylan’s. “You’re going to be a Banks soon, Ry. You better get used to this.”

“At least you left the girls out of it.”

Dylan’s smile drops.

“No.” I shake my head. “What did you do?”

He shrugs and leans back in his chair. “You think the girls were innocent? Babe, it was a glitter cock! Besides, I didn’t do anything. The waiters who put laxatives in their drinks and brought them out did all my work for me.”

“Dylan!”

Heidi laughs louder.

I look over at her.

She shakes her head. “I’m just glad I wasn’t part of it.”

Dylan’s smile is back in place. “Not yet…”

“But I had nothing to do with Operation Glitter Cock!” she shouts.

“But you knew about it, Heids,” he says, sighing as leans forward. “And that’s just as bad.”

Bryce laughs next to her and when she turns to him, eyes narrowed, he simply shrugs and looks over at Dylan. “You need me to do anything, you let me know.”

Heidi smacks his chest.

“So…” Mom says, sitting next to Logan’s dad. “Is someone going to tell me what just happened?”

Dr. Matthews chuckles, shaking his head. “Mayhem, Holly. I really could’ve used you back when they were juniors and Logan came home with wax strips on his genitals.”

Riley

D
ylan walks into
the bedroom wearing his work pants, white tank, and blue flannel shirt—exactly the way he was when I fell in love with him. He stalks toward me slowly, his brow bunched. “What are you doing, baby?” he says, falling on the bed, his fingers linked behind his head.

I turn the laptop to him.

He cringes. “I’ll be in the garage.” He starts to get up but I stop him. He sighs. “Baby, I love you and I can’t wait to marry you but swear if I see that Pinterest board one more time—”

My laugh cuts him off, I shut the laptop and throw it on the end of the bed. Bacon walks in, his head high looking for Dylan. Dylan lifts his head when he hears him and pats his chest twice. “Up bubba,” he murmurs.

Bacon jumps on the bed and settles right on Dylan’s chest, his head resting on his front legs.