Authors: J.J. Murray

Until I Saw Your Smile (47 page)

BOOK: Until I Saw Your Smile

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I won't.

I'm getting Angela a ring tomorrow.

And I'll propose to her . . .

When the moment's right.

Whenever that is.

Chapter 36

“D
o you know her ring size?” the woman at Catbird asked the next morning.

Matthew had already picked out the ring, the classic solitaire he had seen online, and he now looked for a place to put a box of seriously ripe strawberries so he could hold the ring in his hand.
This shop has too many displays and no floor, table, or shelf space.

“She's kind of petite,” Matthew said. He balanced the box on his knee and felt the fingers of a plastic hand holding several other rings. “The pinkie feels right, but I'm not sure.”

The woman slid the ring down the pinkie. “It's a little big, but we can resize it later,” she said. She turned the ring over and looked at the tag. “This is a seven. Maybe she takes a six and a half.”

“Maybe,” Matthew said. He sighed and put the box of strawberries on the counter. “Sorry.” He pulled out his wallet and handed his Visa to her. “I'm kind of in a hurry.”
I don't want Angela to ask why it took so long.

The woman swiped the card. “Those strawberries smell wonderful.”

“You should get some strawberry shortcake at Smith's Sweet Treats and Coffee sometime,” Matthew said.

“They're still open?” the woman asked. “I thought La Estrella put them out of business.”

“It's almost the other way around,” Matthew said, signing the credit slip. “And on such a hot day, a large iced coffee and some strawberry shortcake will cool you off.”

“Sounds good,” she said, beginning to bag the fuzzy black box.

“No bag,” Matthew said. “And no box.”
I don't want her seeing a different kind of bulge in my pants.

She removed the ring from the box, slipping it into a smaller drawstring pouch. “You're giving it to her now, huh?” She held out the pouch.

I have no idea when.
He took the pouch and slipped it carefully into his pocket. “Soon.” He picked up the box of strawberries. “Thank you, and we'll be sure to come back for wedding bands.”

“Great,” she said.

Great. I have an engagement ring in my pocket for the first time in my life, it's eighty degrees, I'm carrying a box of overripe strawberries, and Angela is going to wonder why a half hour trip to get strawberries took more than an hour.

Unless she's busy. I hope she's busy. That way I can sneak by her to the back and start washing these. Maybe she won't notice . . .

Angela noticed.

The second Matthew walked in, she asked, “Where have you been?” A half dozen customers were waiting in line.

Matthew zipped by her to the kitchen. “These are very ripe,” he said. “I have to wash 'em.”

Angela gave him a few minutes' peace with the strawberries before entering the kitchen. “You didn't answer my question.”

He stuck a ripe strawberry in her mouth. “Aren't they good?”

“They are,” Angela said. “Now answer my question.”

He dried his hands on a towel.
This is not what I envisioned, but . . .
He took the little drawstring bag from his pocket. “Angela.”

She focused on the bag. “Yes?” she said in a soft voice.

She's half smiling. Okay, I can do this.
“Angela . . .”

She bit her lower lip. “Yes?”

This is going nowhere. I should have practiced this.
“Angela . . .”

“You already said that.” She looked into the dining room. “Hold on a sec. I have a few customers.”

Thank God for customers. I am botching this up so badly. She's efficient, so I have to think fast.
He looked at the floor.
Clean as always. I know. I'll kneel in front of her, tell her I love her, and ask her to join me on a lifetime adventure. No, not an adventure, a journey. A lifetime journey. No, that sounds lame. A lifetime of happiness? I plan to give her happiness, of course, I mean, that's expected. What guy wouldn't promise that?

He looked at the bag. “I give you this ring because . . .” he whispered. “Because I can think of no one else I would want to give it to.”
That wasn't bad. A little vague, though. I can think of no one else? Well, I can't. I could sayâ

“Who are you talking to?” Angela asked.

Matthew whirled around, palming the bag. “To myself.”

Her eyes searched for the bag. “Where's the bag?”

He opened his hand.

“Is that for me?” she asked.

“Yeah.”

“I've always wanted a little bag like that,” she said.

Funny.
He knelt in front of her. “I know you said to wait, but I can't wait any longer, Angela.”

“Since when have you ever listened to me?” she asked.

“I listen to you all the time,” Matthew said. “And I want to hear your voice and see your eyes for the rest of my life.” He took the ring from the bag and held it up. “You give me peace. I hope I can give you peace for the rest of our lives.”

Angela shot out her left hand.

Matthew slipped on the ring.

“It's a little big,” she said.

“I guessed at your size,” Matthew said. “We can get it resized.” Angela shook her head. “It's okay. Don't you have something else to say?”

I thought I said everything.
“I love you, Angela.”

“I love you, too,” she said, ruffling his hair. “But there's something you're supposed to ask, isn't there?”

I didn't ask her to marry me! Wow.
“Angela Simone Smith, will you marry me?”

She looked up and sighed. “I guess I'll have to. You're a good worker. I need those strawberries now, by the way. There are ten people waiting for shortcake.”

Matthew stood. “I'll get right on it.” He turned to the sink and ran cold water over a colander full of strawberries.

“Hey,” Angela whispered.

He turned around.

Angela's eyes were full of tears. “Thank you.” She hugged him. “I'm glad you didn't listen to me. It proves you really want me.”

“I do want you,” Matthew said.

She dried her eyes on his shirt. “Make sure you get all the stems, okay?”

He nodded. “I really messed up my proposal, didn't I?”

“You didn't,” she said, backing away. She looked at the ring. “I'll never be able to forget it. Hurry up with those strawberries, Mr. McConnell.”

Matthew smiled. “Yes, Miss Smith.”

Angela left the kitchen.

That wasn't so bad. I'm glad I only have to do that once.

Matthew worked feverously removing stems, rinsing and pouring the strawberries into a large silver bowl dusted with powdered sugar. As he was sprinkling a fine layer of powdered sugar on top of them, he heard people clapping. When he stuck his head out of the kitchen, the ovation grew louder.

“
There
he is!” someone shouted, and the ovation grew even louder.

“Come here,” Angela mouthed.

He picked up the bowl of strawberries and took it to a side counter before standing behind Angela, wrapping his arms around her stomach. “I take it they know.”

Angela nodded. “Look at the tip jar, Matthew.”

On the jar was a new sign: “
Our
wedding jar.”

“And
you
knew,” Matthew whispered.

“I knew something was up when you were half an hour late,” Angela said. “It doesn't take an hour to walk from here to Division Avenue and back.”

“Congratulations,” the customer at the front of the line said. “Now could I please have my strawberry shortcake?”

Angela kissed Matthew to more applause and then pushed him to the side table. “I'll need at least twelve, chop chop.”

“Coming right up, Mrs. McConnell,” Matthew said.

Angela smiled. “Not yet.”

Matthew could contain his joy anymore. He picked Angela up and carried her around the dining room, shouting, “Free strawberry shortcake today!”

“
Half price
on strawberry shortcake, today!” Angela shouted. “
Half
price!”

Matthew kissed her shouting away. “
Free.
”

“Kiss me like that again,” she said.

Matthew dipped her almost to the floor.

“Okay,” she said breathlessly. “Free.”

“Because,” Matthew said to the crowd, “that's what I am when I am with this woman. I'm free. And feel
free
to add to our wedding fund.”

Angela had to empty the tip jar twice that day.

After closing, they raced upstairs, closed all the windows, turned off Angela's window air conditioner, and enjoyed a sizzling night of sweat and sighs, moans and groans.

As Angela rose and fell on Matthew as they sat in his “thinking” chair, she planned their wedding.

“We're not separating the bride's and groom's families,” she moaned, grinding her booty into him.

“Do we have to plan this
now?
” Matthew asked, nibbling on her shoulders and massaging her back. “I'm trying to concentrate.”

“This is
our
thinking chair now,” she whispered.

“How can you think at a time like this?” Matthew asked.

“I can multitask.” She rose up and held her booty still. “And at the wedding reception,” she said as she dropped, “we're not announcing everyone. That takes entirely too long. People are hungry. That's why half of them come to the wedding in the first place.”

Matthew reached around and teased her nipples.

“Pinch them,” Angela moaned, “pinch them hard.”

Matthew twisted her nipples.

“Oh shit, oh shit.” She rested. “I'm up to three.”

I have some catching up to do.

She spun around and rested her head on the footrest while Matthew continued to fill her. “I am
not
catering my own wedding, though I guess I could.”

“Angela, please, I'm trying to catch up with you.”

She laughed. “You'll never catch up with me, so why even try? Oh, and we can't do that first traditional dance. I'll only start grinding on you like I did at The Cove.”

Matthew massaged her stomach. “We can't have that.”
Now hush so I canâ

“And that garter tradition is just plain dumb,” Angela said. She pulled herself up using the arms of the chair. “I mean, who wears a garter anymore?” She licked and nibbled his nipples.

Matthew pushed Angela back gently and inhaled most of her right breast into his mouth.

“No bouquet,” she wheezed. “No throwing of anything, not even rice or birdseed. Damn, are you trying to eat my breast?”

“It tastes good.” Matthew pulled back and licked both nipples.

“It tastes like sweat,” she said. “We are definitely not having a traditional wedding.”

Matthew guided Angela's hands between her legs. “I'm close. Show me something.”

Angela's fingers tapped her clitoris repeatedly.

He thrust up and held it. “Here comes number two. Kiss me.”

Angela kissed him until his spasms subsided. “And I don't want to get married in the summer. I'd rather get married in the fall when the trees are colorful.”

I have an orgasm, and she talks about colorful trees.
He moved his hands down her sweaty back. “What about our honeymoon?”

“What about it?” she asked.

“Are we going to have one?” he asked. “We're barely having a wedding.”

“You're right,” she said. “We might as well skip the wedding and go straight to the honeymoon, somewhere hot and sweaty like this.”

“Can we bring this chair?” Matthew asked.

Angela smiled. “Okay, I'll admit. This chair has its uses.” She bounced up and down. “You're still hard.”

“I can't help it,” Matthew said. “You keep it hard.”

She began a slow grind, rising and falling. “And you keep me wet. We have to meet each other's parents, too.”

“From âyou keep me wet' to meeting the parents,” Matthew said.

She sped up her grinding. “Don't go away now.”

“I won't.”
I can't. Not when she does that.

“You told your parents we'd come down to visit,” Angela said, holding his hands to her breasts. “And we haven't even called them. When are we going to do that?”

“We'll figure something out,” Matthew said.

“We're good at that,” Angela said.

“We're good at this, too,” Matthew said. “We really should make a how-to video.”

“I'm too shy to do that,” Angela said.

“You're not too shy when we do this,” Matthew said, kissing her ring. “Now lean back.”

She leaned back, resting her head on the footrest.

“Keep touching your breasts,” he whispered. “You know I like that.”

Angela pulled her breasts up by her nipples.

“Doesn't that hurt?” Matthew asked.

She licked her lips. “So good.”

He pulled her legs out from around him, placing them on his shoulders. “I wish I could lick you and do this at the same time.”

“So do I.” Angela closed her eyes. “Use both of your thumbs on me down there.”