She takes the box and sits back, an open-mouth grin on her face. It’s a mixture of awe and happiness. “I used to look at this when I was little. My dad said my rich husband would get me a big, fat rock and we’d live happily ever after. But all I ever wanted was this ring and a husband who loved me.”

I tip her face up to mine with a crooked finger under her chin. “I love you.” I scrunch my eyebrows together. “Did you forget to say yes?”

“I didn’t forget,” she tosses back at me. She sets the box on the table and gets up. “I just haven’t said yes, yet.” She points toward the kitchen. “Do you want something to drink? I’m thirsty.” She gets up like she’s going to walk away, but I grab her shirt in my fist and pull her back down. I pick up the box, take the ring out of it, and hold it up.

“Marry me, Em,” I plead. “If you say yes, we can have lots of crazy sex and live happily ever after.” I want to laugh, but I can’t. It’s not really funny. “Marry me, Em,” I repeat. “Please.”

She smacks me on the forehead with palm of her hand, and I’m momentarily stunned. “Of course I’ll marry you,” she says. She lets me slide the ring onto her finger. “I couldn’t make it easy for you, dummy,” she says. She settles into my side and nuzzles into that spot that’s all hers. There are no secrets between us. Not anymore. And it feels so f**king good.

I kiss her. “Can we go to bed now?” I ask. It’s been weeks since I’ve been inside her, and granted, I was unconscious for part of it, but I’m not now. And I need her more than I need air.

She knocks on the hard cast that goes all the way up to my thigh. “I have a feeling this is going to be a little unwieldy.”

I shake my head. “You’ll just have to get on top.” I draw her across my lap and lift her shirt, caressing the smooth skin of her belly with my fingertips. She reaches to pull her shirt over her head and looks toward the door. “What?” I ask, my breath ragged.

“Someone is at the door,” she says. She slumps against me and breathes hard for a moment. I pick up a pillow and jam it into my lap, cursing to myself.

When she opens the door, her parents fall into the room, followed by all my brothers.

“Welcome home!” my brothers shout.

Emily’s mother picks up Emily’s ringer finger and holds it up. “Did you say yes?” she asks.

“Of course I did,” Emily says. My brothers come over to congratulate me, and her dad is even glowing. What’s up with that?

Matt comes in with pizzas, and he sweeps Emily into a hug. He dips his face into her hair, and I imagine he’s sniffing her. “You smell good,” he says. She smacks him, and he laughs.

“She said yes, huh?” Paul asks as he sits down beside me. He eyes the pillow in my lap and chuckles.

You guys have terrible timing, I sign.

He tries to look innocent. It’s never a terrible time for a you-just-got-engaged party. He points to the pillow and raises an eyebrow. You got the rest of your life to get laid, he signs. He heaves a sigh. I can see his chest fill with air. I’ll run them all out in a little while.

Promise?

He laughs. I promise. He smiles at me though. You got the rest of your life to make love to that woman.

I look at her, and she smiles at me as she pushes her hair behind her ear. I know. And I plan to.

Sam made cupcakes, Paul signs. You want one? He pushes to his feet.

I’ll eat just about anything Sam makes. Bring me two.

You going to get fat and lazy now that you’re getting married?

What’s your excuse? I ask. He punches my shoulder. I wince because I’m still sore. Paul looks into my eyes. You did good picking that one, he signs, nodding toward Emily.

Well, if you ever meet a girl who punches you in the f**king nose when you meet her, marry her, I tell him. He laughs and goes to get a cupcake. I rub the bridge of my nose and think back. I reach for the napkin on the table and start to doodle the tattoo I’ll put on her dad.

I’m thinking he needs a street sign where Madison Avenue and Family converge. Family will be at the top and much more prominent. Madison Avenue will be all glitzed up with lights and baubles while Family will look comfortable and pleasant. Maybe with some filigree and antique markings. Madison Avenue, despite all its wealth, will look poor in comparison. I don’t know how I’ll do it yet, but I’ll figure it out. At the bottom, I’ll write the words he said to me when he asked for the tattoo: My family means the world to me. Without them, I am nothing.

I might have those words put across my ribs because they fit me, too.

Emily

I close the door behind the family. Logan looks tired. It hasn’t been long since his accident, and he’s still recovering. I actually let them stay way too long.

“You need some pain meds?” I ask.

He shakes his head and motions me forward. “Not yet,” he says as he pulls me down to sit on his good knee. He has the other propped on the coffee table. He winces as he moves, though. He’s hurting. I can tell. He lifts the edge of my shirt so he can slip his hand beneath it to lie against my skin. His head falls back on the edge of the couch, and he looks at me through half-closed blue eyes that simmer.

Goodness, he’s handsome. And he’s all mine.

His hand tracks up under my shirt until he hefts the weight of my breast in his hand. His thumb swipes across my nipple, and it shoots straight to the center of me.