Page 175 of Himbo Hitman
He’s uncharacteristically quiet for a moment and I give us a little distance to read his face. Before I can ask, he whispers, “I’m going to marry you one day.”
Those body fluttering nerves fill me again. “Oh, yeah? You sound confident.”
“I am.” He looks me straight in the eyes. “Because you’re giving me that look.”
And I’ll give it to him forever. If he wants to marry me one day, that’s exactly what we’ll do.
Perry Nikov is himbo husband material. And he’s all mine.
EPILOGUE
PERRY
FIVE YEARS LATER
.
Everything turned out perfectly.
If you leave perfect up to interpretation.
So, I did need to take Elle’s money, but I haven’t missed a single week of repaying her, and I think, maybe five years later, my sister is starting to see me as a whole grown-ass adult.
Which is just in time, too, because St. Clare marrying me would have been a tad creepy otherwise. Well, that’s if he says yes. I’m proposing tonight, in front of all of our family and friends, because everyone knows that public proposals are impossible to say no to.
Peer pressure and all that. I’m not too proud to stack the deck if it gets him tied to me for life.
I’m almost confident he’ll say yes though. Mostly. At least … sixty-seven percent chance.
I lean over and press a kiss to Margot’s bulging tummy. “Sure you’re not in labor?”
“Nope. Now, stop shitting yourself and get the ring—I can’t goddamn reach anymore.”
“I could really usea baby to snuggle while I do this.”
She blinks at me, that perfect storm of a heavily pregnant woman past her due date and her annoying brother nudging her along. “Sure,” she snaps. “That’s why I’m having this kid. For you.”
I grab both her shoulders. “You really are the best sister ever.”
“I can’t wait to be back to my usual self so people—you—will take me seriously when I threaten to kick your ass.”
She can too. Well, not pregnant, she can. I’m going to have to remember how not to test her daily once I no longer have that safety net.
I reach up into the top of the closet and grab the ring box. It’s been forever since I bought this, and when I crack it open, I get all these little flutters in my gut. “Damn, I’m romantic.”
“You sure he’s not going to be disappointed about that piece of junk?”
I gasp and snap the box closed. “You’re mean when forty weeks pregnant, heavily swollen, tired, constipated, and low on iron.”
Margot hangs her head back on a groan. “Do you and Elle have to shareeverything?”
“Yes. And you really should get that lump checked out,” I say seriously.
“It’s the milk!”
“Wouldn’t hurt to confirm,” Elle says, appearing behind me. “I’m very fond of those breasts.”
“Perry’s proposing,” Margot says. “Let’s all go back to focusing on that and not on my tits.”
