My palms are seriously sweaty. I wipe them on my pants, retrieve the small box from my pocket, and wait. And wait some more. I’m more nervous than I was the first time Poppy agreed to go out with me. The stakes are infinitely higher right now.

Finally I hear the beep of the code being punched in. This is it. I’ve been waiting months for this. I suck in a deep breath, prepping for the inevitable.

“Lance? I’m home!” Poppy calls.

I bite my tongue so I don’t answer.

After a few seconds of silence, she calls again. “Baby? You here?”

I’m a big fan of pet names. More than I thought I’d be.

She says something to herself about leaving lights on, and the door to the closet swings open. As soon as she sees me, she screams.

Which is not quite the response I was going for.

“Ahhh! What the heck?” She stumbles back, her hands pressed to her heart. Poppy isn’t much for swearing. It’s precious, just like her.

I grab her arm before she can get too far. “I didn’t mean to scare you.” I’m trying not to laugh at her horror.

“Then why are you hiding in the closet?” She buries her head against my chest. I love the way it feels when she’s close like this. I love it most when she’s near me and naked, which she will be soon enough, but first I have something important to do.

There’s a light in here. I had it installed last week. I hit the switch and pull her inside.

“What are you—”

Her words catch as I push the coats out of the way and drop to one knee.

She covers her mouth with a palm, eyes wide. “Lance?”

I take her hand in mine and bring it to my lips. “Hi, precious.” I pull out the tiny velvet box.

“Oh my God.” She’s shaking.

“Poppy Leigh O’Connor, you’re the most precious, perfect person in my world. Yer my sunrise and my sunset. Marry me so I can spend every day loving you for the rest of my life.”

I flip open the box, hoping she can see the ring in the semi-darkness. The coats are obstructing the light.

Because she is who she is, Poppy drops to her knees with me and takes my face in her hands. “You didn’t even phrase it as a question.”

“What?” All I know is it’s not a yes.

She giggles. The sound is pure and sweet. “You didn’t make it a yes or no question.”

“You’re really gonna gimme a hard time about this? Now?”

“Of course, I’ll marry you.”

“You’re sure? Is that your yes?”

She kisses me, once, twice, a third time. “Yes. Of course. There’s no one else I’d rather be loved by than you. Give me the ring.”

I laugh, and so does she while she kisses me. Our tongues twine and tangle. I keep going until she’s breathless; then I take her shaking hand in mine and slip the ring on her finger.

“It’s so beautiful.”

“I want you forever,” I whisper.

“I’m yours,” she whispers back. “I’ve been yours since you stole my first kiss.”

“I’m still not sorry.”

“Neither am I.”