Sure Shot (Brooklyn #4)(84)

Tank is not carrying a bag. He’s not even carrying two coffees. I’m having dire thoughts, but then I catch his expression. His eyes are smiling so hard that it changes his whole face. “Bess, honey.”

“What is it?”

He walks over to the bed, where I am still lying lazily on my tummy. He kneels down beside me. “Let’s start the clock.”

“What?” I stretch my sleepy limbs. “What clock?” He leans a little closer and I find myself nose to nose with Tank. “What are you talking about?”

“The two-year clock, Bessie. Let’s not waste time.” He chuckles. “I hope you’re not the sort of girl who wants a video of this to post on social media. ’Cause that’s gonna be awkward. Bessie, will you be my wife?”

Wait, what?

Tank takes my hand and kisses my palm. “Will you marry me, ASAP? So we can have two years of fun and then adopt a baby or toddler who needs a home?”

Suddenly, this man has my full attention. My head springs off the pillow. “Seriously? We’re doing this now?” My heart is in my mouth, because I hope to God I haven’t misunderstood him.

“I never claimed to be a romantic. And maybe I’m doing this all wrong. But here goes.” He fishes something out of his pants pocket. It’s a little box. He opens it to reveal a diamond ring. “I didn’t know your ring size. And I had to bang on the window to get the store to let me in early.”

He’s still talking, but I’m just staring at the beautiful thing in front of me. The generous emerald-cut diamond is set sideways on a dainty, narrow band. There’s a row of tiny diamonds on either side of the center stone. I’ve never seen anything like it.

It’s stunning. And my poor little brain is trying to grapple with the mystery of its sudden appearance.

“I want you, Bessie. All of you. I want your notebooks full of plans, and I want you to move into that apartment with me. Your commute will be longer, honey. You’ll have to cross the street.” He kisses my palm again. “Say yes.”

“Yes!” My throat closes up, making it hard for me to speak. “Of course I’ll marry you. Any day of the week.”

“Careful,” he says, his green eyes dancing. “I might pick tomorrow. Because I know this is right, and I’m not a patient man.” He carefully plucks the ring from its velvet cushion. “Let’s just try this on.”

I gasp when it fits perfectly. I shouldn’t be so surprised. Tank and I are a good fit. I know it in my heart. I know it the same way I know a rookie is going to grow into a hall-of-famer.

Tankiewicz is my hall-of-fame man. He always has been.

“Do you like it?” he whispers.

“I love it. So much. Almost as much as I love you.” All I can do is stare down at my finger.

He laughs. “Maybe this isn’t how you pictured your marriage proposal. So now I’ll slow down and wait until you’re ready to brainstorm a wedding plan. Or is there already a notebook for that? Have you ever thought about your dream wedding?”

“Never,” I whisper. And that’s the truth. Even when I’d told Zara I’d marry Tank in a heartbeat, I hadn’t believed it was a possibility. Marrying Tank sounded as realistic as turning mice into coachmen.

“We’ll think of something that works for two busy people,” he says. “I just needed you to know that I’m serious about our future together. And if you want to start the clock on adoption, I’m here for that.”

I wrap my arms around him and squeeze. “You really know how to make a girl happy.”

“I’m working on it,” he agrees. “Can I feed the girl some brunch now? About that buffet—what do you say we sneak you in?”

“Okay,” I say, realizing this means I have to make myself presentable. “Give me six minutes.”

“We’re already running late,” he says. “So it doesn’t matter. Take your time and shower if you feel like it.”

“That includes a shower,” I say. “I’m speedy.”

“You really are the perfect woman,” he says, chuckling. “Off you go.”





I wear the ring to brunch. Which means I’m practically floating as we ride down to the lobby together. The comfortable pressure of Tank’s hand in mine as we step into the dining room is the only thing tethering me to Earth.

“There they are!” Georgia says, beckoning us toward one of two long tables where the team is assembled.

“Where’d you go last ni—” Becca’s eyes grow round. “Is that a ring?” she shrieks.

Georgia lets out a happy little scream, too. “Get over here and let me see!”

Tank, chuckling, gives me a little nudge in their direction. “You sit. I’ll find the food.”

My friends wave me in like buzzing bees to the hive. “This is so pretty!” Georgia says.

“Did you know this was coming?” Becca wants to know.

“Heck no. It still doesn’t seem real.”

“That makes two of us who got engaged in this hotel!” Becca’s smile is electric. “Isn’t Dallas a great town?”

“No,” O’Doul insists from a few seats over. “But we’ll agree to disagree.”