Layla - Page 87

One side of his mouth tipped up in a smile, but then his eyes moved to look over my shoulder at something. Before I could turn to see what’d caught his attention, he’d dropped down onto his knees in front of me.

“Are you okay? What’s wrong?” I started to get down to help him, then thought better of it when I realized how far up my dress would ride if I did it.

It was one thing wearing a short, tight dress and sitting on the grass when it was just the two of us, but it was another flashing people who’d known me since I was a baby.

So, instead, I pulled on his arm and tried to put it around my neck. “Okay, hold onto me, and we’ll get you onto your feet.”

I heard familiar chuckles and laughter from somewhere off the dance floor and cursed my brothers for not helping me when they could see Mark had hurt himself. “Insensitive bastards!”

In my panic, I hadn’t heard Mark calling my name, so when he shook my arm and snapped, “For fuck’s sake, Layla, just listen a minute,” I glared at him.

“Yes, they play the song like a dream, but you’ve hurt yourself.”

“I haven’t hurt myself.”

Straightening up, I scowled down at him and threw my hands up. “So why am I helping you off the floor?”

“You’re not,” he clipped and held out something in his hand. “I’m trying to fucking propose to you if you’ll just let me do it, woman.”

Given that he’d just said he was proposing and was down on one knee in front of everyone, I could gloss over the fact he’d sworn and called me woman, couldn’t I?

Apparently some of the residents from town agreed with me.

“You tell her, Mark. And get that porn temple sorted out so y’all can lend me sugar,” Mrs. Keegan yelled, getting a chorus of ‘yeahs’ afterward.

She was now his biggest fan after she’d finally gotten to see the video of my brother during squirrelgate at the police department.

Mark’s fist unfolded until it was just the palm of his hand, with the perfect solitaire ring in the middle. I’d never dreamed of something huge or a colored stone or extravagant setting. All I’d wanted since I was a kid was a sensibly sized diamond—but not so small that people had to squint to see it—with a slightly thicker band than solitaires usually had to go with it.

“Layla Montgomery.” Mark stopped as my brothers’ growls filtered over to us. “I feel like I’ve loved you from the first day I met you. If I think back to my first memory and play my life back, you’re there in all of it, and I feel beyond lucky to have that history with you that not many people get to have when they fall in love with someone.

“Four years ago, I stole you and took you to Vegas, but I regretted never telling you how much I loved you in front of our friends and families and asking you to be my wife in a way that embarrassed you.”

He leaned around me and winked at the crowd of people watching us. “Definitely one of the perks, right?” There was a chorus of laughter from them all, but then he looked back up at me, and I had his undivided attention.

“You’ve been my best friend for as long as I can remember, and I’m beyond happy that I’ll get to keep you as not just that, but as my wife and the future mother of my kids one day.” He glared at my family. “One day in the future, so stop threatening to kill me.”

I glanced over my shoulder, but they were all smiling at us, so I figured he’d done it for theatrical value… until Gramps drew a line across his neck with his thumb. Jesus.

“But I want to do it properly and give you the wedding day at the lake, with a party in the meadow, like you always dreamed of. So, I’m asking you to marry me—again—but this time properly.”

Some women managed to remain dignified and sophisticated when they were proposed to. Me? I lunged at him, taking him down to his back on the hard dance floor, and kissed him all over his face.

“That’s my sister, ass wad,” Tom yelled, trying to break free from Sonya’s grip on his arm. “I just want to hit him once. You can’t say I’m being unreasonable if I do it once.”

Sitting up with me in his lap, Mark grinned at me, not giving one tiny little iota of a fuck that his face was covered in pink lip marks from my lip gloss. “Is that a yes?”

“Hell yes, it’s a yes,” I shouted, loud enough for people to hear.

Then, with a strength I’d never have, he got to his feet, still holding me, and nodded at Jarrod.

Cason leaned into his mic and smiled at everyone. “We said the last song was the last one we’d play, but that was just in case she said no. It’d be awkward still partying if she turned him down, right?”

People burst out laughing as Mark glared over his shoulder at them. “This one’s a special one, according to Mark. They’ve all been special, but apparently, this was the song he used to sing to Layla when she was having a bad day.”

I stared up at Mark. “Which song is it?”

“Well, this version doesn’t have the long intro to it. See if that narrows it down.”

Tags: Mary B. Moore Romance
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