Page 105 of Money Shot

I glanced down at the ring. It was a ridiculously huge round diamond, and the sides of the ring were covered in smaller diamonds, fading into small slivers at the bottom.

It was breathtaking.

“I love you,” I said as I felt the tears rolling down my cheeks.

Vince turned toward the man driving and nodded his head. The man raised his hand to his mouth, pulled the reigns downward, and stopped the carriage. As the carriage came to a halt, the man whistled a shrill whistle loud enough for the entire city to hear.

“And off to the left, you can see the not so historic Warren Theatre parking garage,” he said with a slight laugh as he pointed toward the structure on the left.

Vince turned to the left and stared, pulling me in his arms as he did so. Under the streetlights and illuminated enough for me to see I wasn’t the only one crying, he looked peaceful and content.

I was in heaven.

A huge boom, followed by another, and yet another caused me to jump in my seat. The top of the parking garage illuminated underneath the fireworks display over our heads. It was just like the Fourth of July, the sky glowing with pinks, reds, blues, and yellows, one burst after the other.

I smiled as I stared out at the display, only to see the someone’s head clearing the top of the roof and peering down below.

The unmistakable “Whoop” of Biscuit making a cat-call made me giggle, and I waved at him from the carriage.

“Congrats, Motherfuckers!” I heard Jackson scream.

“All of this,” I said as I waved toward the fireworks. “You’re amazing.”

“No, you’re amazing,” he said.

“I’m just surprised…” I paused and shook my head.

The next day was November 9th, the anniversary of our first kiss. I found it odd he didn’t wait until the next day to propose.

“What?” he asked.

I shrugged my shoulders and admired my ring. “Nothing.”

“Surprised I didn’t wait ‘till the 9th?” he asked.

I nodded my head. He pointed to his watch. “It’s the 9th. It’s been the 9th for some time now.”

I realized it was past midnight, and the 9th of November.

A true romantic, the love of my life had just proposed to me on the anniversary of our first kiss. Directly above us the fireworks continued to explode, illuminating the sky entirely. I pointed up at the sky, down at my ring, and shook my head.

“What?” he asked.

“This,” I said.

“What about it?” he asked.

“This is the money shot,” I said.

He grinned and pulled me in for a kiss. “It sure is.”

And it was. The perfect night. The perfect man. The perfect romantic moment. If our lives were ever written into a book, it would be the perfect…

Money shot.