I pull out my wallet and toss a few bills on the table. I take her hand and pull her up. "Let's get out of here," I say with a soft smile.

She laughs, grabs the small black box, and we walk out. I want her at home, in my bed, and crying out my name.

"It really is beautiful," she repeats in the truck.

"I wanted something you would wear with all your crazy clothes."

"You love my crazy clothes," she says with a laugh.

"I love you naked more."

Her hand ...