Dylan

“It feels as though we should be doing something. Should we be doing something? Is there anything we’ve forgotten?”

I grinned at Bianca from where I stood in the doorway of Brew Me Right. My normally chill girlfriend was stressing, and although I hated to see her in this state, it was actually kind of cute–and it made me feel good that she was as emotionally invested in our joint venture as I was.

The two of us had spent the past six months working our asses off to prepare for this day. At times, it had felt as though we’d never reach opening day, so I understood why Bianca was worried that there was some crucial piece we’d missed or forgotten to do. Was it really possible that we were legitimately ready to open our doors to the public tomorrow?

But if my girl knew what else was going on, then she’d be nervous for real. I was having a hard time playing it cool myself. It was only my total belief in the plan I’d concocted that allowed me to pretend to be my normal calm and laid-back self.

“Babe, I think we’ve checked every item off every to-do list we’ve managed to put together leading up to today. Your very efficient project management software shows that we’ve dotted the i’s and crossed the t’s. There’s nothing left to do but wait for tomorrow morning.” I strode across the wooden floor and grabbed a couple of tankards, pausing by the taps to fill them. “Now, it’s time to celebrate.”

Bianca accepted the mug but frowned at me. “Are you sure? It just seems–” She tossed up her free hand. “Weird, I guess, to be . . . finished. I can’t quite believe that I won’t pop awake at one in the morning, remembering the most important thing we’ve neglected to do.”

I sipped my beer and stepped closer to her. “Baby, if you wake up at one in the morning, just roll over and put your hand on my cock and I’ll be happy to take your mind off any worries you might have.”

She rolled her eyes, but I didn’t miss the way her lips twitched. “Thanks, I’ll be sure to keep that in mind.” She took a healthy gulp of her beer and sighed. “You know, every time I try this, it tastes better. How is that possible?”

“Because the best things in life just keep getting better with time, babe. Like beer. Sex. Love.” I slid my hand to her hip. “You and me.”

“Mmmm.” She smiled up at me. “Keep it up, sweet talker. I like what you’re saying.”

I lowered my head to skim my lips along the side of her neck. “If you like my sweet talking, then you’re really going to love my–” I broke off, pretending that I’d just remembered something. If beer didn’t do me right, acting might be my gig. “Oh, Jesus. I almost forgot. Will Garth dropped off an early copy of tomorrow’s paper with the announcement about our opening.”

“Really?” Her pretty eyes brightened. “Gimme, gimme.”

“Sure. Wait a minute.” I set my mug on a nearby table and dug the folded newspaper from my back pocket, where it had been burning a hole for hours. “Here you go. See what you think.”

I stood back a little, watching as Bianca skimmed the two short paragraphs. I saw her gaze catch, her expression change, and then her brow knit together as she read it again.

“Oh.” She looked at me, her eyes cloudy. “Um, there’s a problem here, Dyl. A mistake. Is it too late to call Will and see if he can make a correction?”

“Really? I didn’t see anything wrong.” I slipped my hand into the pocket of my jacket, my fingers closing around the small box. “What does it say?”

“He . . .um, they describe me as your fiancée.” She cleared her throat and read aloud. “Brew Me Right Microbrewery is housed in the former railroad depot and is owned and operated by Burton native Dylan Wesley along with his fiancée Bianca. Dellacourt of New York.”

“Huh. That’s something, isn’t it?” I tapped the newspaper, then dropped to one knee in front of Bianca. “You know, it occurs to me that asking Will to fix that would be a pain in the ass. Why don’t we just . . . make it the truth instead?” I held out the open ring box.

Her mouth dropped open, and her eyes went wide.

“Oh, my God, Dylan, what are you doing?”

I smiled. “I’m proposing to you, Bianca Delacourt. I’m asking you to be my partner in everything. We already kick ass in the small business world. Why shouldn’t we have absolutely everything else we ever wanted?”

“I . . .” She blinked rapidly. “Are you serious right now?”

“Serious as fuck.” I grasped her hand and held it to my lips. “Bianca, I love you. I want to spend the rest of my life loving you, working with you, making all of our dreams come true. I want it all with you, baby. Will you be my wife?”

The tip of her tongue slipped out and swiped over her lower lip. “Hell, yeah, I will.”

Jumping to my feet, I pulled the ring from the box and slid it onto her finger. “Thank you for saying yes.”

Laughing softly, Bianca linked her hands behind my head. “Thank you for asking.”

I lowered my head and kissed her, making sure she could feel every emotion coursing through my body.

When we could breathe again, I asked, “What’s next?”

She tilted her head. “We open our business. We plan a wedding. We get married, raise lots of cute babies, and then we live happily ever after.”

And that’s exactly what we did.

Keep the Small Town Love Sizzling!

Read the Next Book Here.