I gazed up at him. “You know that’s not true. We introduced them.”
“Let’s go.” He gently shoved me into the car and jogged around to the driver’s side.
“Why were Alex and Gabriel arguing?” I asked myself.
“None of our business,” Derek reiterated as he pulled out into the narrow lane and headed down the hill.
“He can’t possibly be interested in her.”
“Why not?” he asked. “She’s a lovely woman and very accomplished.”
“But she’s a dominant, remember? She likes submissive males.”
Derek laughed. “How could I forget? I was rudely informed of that news many months ago.”
“Oh, right.” I felt myself blush as I recalled an old, slightly crazy conversation from months ago, about handcuffs and masking tape. “But that’s just it. Gabriel is the second most alpha man I know. They’ll never get along.”
“That doesn’t mean they can’t be friends,” Derek said reasonably.
“This is terrible.”
“Darling, don’t take it so hard.”
“No, it’s terrible because Alex is leaving for a business trip in New York,” I whined. “I’ll have to wait a whole week before I can get any news or gossip from her.”
“One week without gossip,” he said with a laugh. “That is a terrible shame.” As he drove, he reached for my hand, slowly lifted it to his lips, and kissed my palm.
I smiled. “I knew you’d understand the problem. That’s why I love you.”
“And I love you, darling. Perhaps we simply ought to make our own news instead of waiting to hear from others.”
“What do you mean?”
He pulled the car to the side of the road and stopped. I watched, mystified, as he reached over to the glove compartment, removed a small box, opened it, and held it in front of me. “Marry me, Brooklyn.”