The Bet by Max Monroe

Six months later…

Jude

At a little after eight in the evening, I head out of Sophie’s and my apartment in Nolita and lock the door behind me. The place is a stone’s throw from her old place, but it’s bigger, has an even better view, and there’s always a doorman to make me feel okay when I’m pulling late hours working at a club and Sophie is by herself.

That’s right. We are officially living together.

Every morning, I get to wake up to Sophie’s gorgeous face, and every night, I get to hold her in my arms. Not to mention, we’re always together, and I never have to miss a moment when she has a bare pussy. Honestly, I don’t know why more men aren’t considering this important “bare pussy” detail when deciding whether or not to put long-term commitment on their vision boards. And yes, I learned about vision boards from Sophie.

It’s the best fucking time of my life, and I’m a man who is almost living the dream. But there’s one thing that still needs to occur to make that “almost” a reality—marrying her.

Laughable, right? I know.

Trust me, our unmarried status has nothing to do with my lack of trying.

Three proposals I’ve attempted so far. The one on her rooftop. One that involved taking her to my uncle Brad and aunt Paula’s lake house and proposing while we were out on the water. And the last one involved showing her how much I love her by surprising her with a fluffy blond ball of Labrador puppy and the engagement ring around his little collar.

You’d think she would’ve said yes to one of those, right? Wrong. Three proposals have only led me to three no’sand a puppy that Sophie named Frankie.

It’s incredibly ironic that I spent so much of my young life running from marriage and am now chasing after it like a dog with the mailman, but now that I’ve given myself over to loving Sophie, I need the commitment.

I need to lock her down, seal the deal, and make it official that she’s not going anywhere for the rest of our lives.

But soon, that’s all going to change.

Once I’m outside the door of our building, I start the four-block walk toward the restaurant where I reserved a table for two. An Italian place my niece Lexi loves and has the perfect intimate ambiance for tonight.

Paesano is a well-known spot for locals in Little Italy, and its quaint charm and romantic vibes of candlelight and wood beams and classical Italian music are exactly what I need to set the mood that ends in Sophie finally saying yes.

I pull my cell out of my pocket and shoot her a message as I come to a stop in front of the restaurant.

Me: Where ya at, babe?

Her answer comes in a minute later.

Sophie: Running about ten minutes behind. Had some issues getting everything broken down after the event. But I’m on my way! And please please please, tell me there’s no wait because I’m starving!

Little does she know, there’s no line because I’m a man with a plan. A proposal plan, that is. But in the name of taking her by surprise—which is a hard thing when I’ve already done this three times—I send her back a little white lie.

Me: Hostess said there’s only a ten-to-fifteen-minute wait. So, by the time you get here, our table should be ready.

I don’t make a point to lie to my girl, the woman I will marry someday real fucking soon, but sometimes, there’re exceptions, and it goes without saying, tonight is one.

Sophie: Wooo-hooo! Thank everything! See you soon, baby!

I grin and go to slide my phone back into the pocket of my jeans, but when it vibrates in my hand, I lift up the screen to find a few messages inside my group chat with my brothers.

Ty: Starting a pool. $50 bucks to play. Who is betting that Sophie says yes? Who is betting that Sophie says no? Personally, I’m on Team No.

Flynn: LOL. I got $50 on yes.

Remy: Put me down for no. Soph is hard-core. No way she’s saying yes tonight.

I roll my eyes.

Me: She’s going to say YES, you fucks.

Ty: Uh oh…is someone feeling a little nervous?

Me: I have no reason to be nervous because Soph is going to say yes.

Remy: I have to hand it to her, she keeps shit entertaining.

Ty: For real. I love that she’s made it clear she wants to marry Jude, but she’s got him proposing all over the fucking city because he doesn’t know when she’ll say yes.

Me: I’ve only proposed three times, dude.

Flynn: About to be four.

Ty: HAHAHAHA

Me: One day, you smug bastards are going to be knocked on your ass by a woman, and I’m going to laugh MY ass off.

Ty: Is this woman knocking me on my ass because she wants to fuck me? Because then, I can definitely get down with that cause.

I just shake my head. He knows exactly what I’m talking about. They all do. But currently, they’re still deep in their ways of noncommitment and avoidance.

I can’t really blame them, though. Not too long ago, I was them, oblivious to what I was missing and the fact that I wasn’t really living by carrying the heavy weight of avoidance.

Thank fuck for Sophie.

I glance at my watch and see I’ve been bullshitting with these assholes for far too long, and I send them one final message.

Me: Whoever put their money on no, be prepared to pay the fuck up.

And then I shove my phone back into my pocket and head inside to the restaurant, where the hostess leads me straightaway to the table I reserved, tucked away in the far corner of the room and already set up for the big night.

Surprisingly, Sophie isn’t far behind me, and in another ten minutes, I spot her gorgeous face walking through the main doors.

I lift my hand to grab her attention, and the second her gaze meets mine, she smiles.

Fuck. I love this woman.

The instant she’s within reach of my arms, I stand up and pull her into a hug. “Missed you so much.”

“You just saw me this morning,” she says through a cute laugh.

“Exactly.” I groan and breathe in the sweet, flowery scent of her hair. “Twelve hours is too long.”

“It’s like you’re obsessed with me or something,” Sophie teases, and I press a kiss to her lips before pulling out her chair and helping her sit down.

“Oh, baby, you have no idea.”

But soon, you’re about to find out.

Sophie

Right after our friendly server drops our meals at our table, I excuse myself to go to the restroom. But the instant I’m safely locked inside the one-stall bathroom, I grab my phone from my purse and call Julie.

It takes her three rings before she answers.

“Everything all set?”

“Uh…almost. How much time do I have left?”

“What do you mean, almost?” I question. “We already have our meals, Julie!”

“Well, Frankie was whining in his crate, and I couldn’t ignore him!” she retorts back, and I sigh. But also, I understand. My little buddy, the one Jude gave to me the last time he proposed, is irresistibly cute. I wouldn’t have been able to ignore him either.

“But don’t worry,” she continues. “He’s officially been fed, watered, and taken out, and I’m just finishing up in your bedroom.”

“Okay. Good. That’s good.” I breathe out a sigh of relief. “What’s your ETA on leaving?”

“If you stop asking me damn questions? Ten minutes, tops.”

“Okay, I get it.” I grin. “I’m officially leaving you alone.”

“Good,” she says, and it sounds like she’s breathing so heavy I’m wondering if she’s actually running around our apartment. “I’ll text when I’m out.”

“Perfect.”

“Okay, seeyabye!”

The line clicks off, and I meet my reflection in the bathroom mirror. It’s almost go time, Soph.

Once I do a quick check of my hair and makeup, I head back out to the table and sit down across from Jude. But when I look at him, expecting him to simply be enjoying his meal, that’s not what I find.

He’s looking at me in a way I’ve seen before. Sparkling, blue eyes and a soft smile, I’ve seen this look exactly three times before now.

Oh no. No-no-no!

“Sophie.” He reaches across the table and takes my hand in his. “I love you, baby.”

Ah, shit. He’s going to do it.

“I love you too,” I say and quickly try to change the subject. “How’s your…uh…” I glance down at his plate, where the fettuccine Alfredo he ordered sits untouched. “Pasta? Good?”

“Who cares about the food, babe?” His smile reaches his eyes, turning them warm like blue-colored honey. “I want to tell you something.”

“Uh…how about you hold that thought while we eat?” I blurt out. “You know, otherwise, the food will get cold.”

He just shakes his head and scoots his chair closer to mine, and I know that if I don’t think of something quick, everything that I’ve planned is about to be ruined.

“Baby, I—”

“I’m not feeling well!” I shout at the top of my lungs, so loud that even a couple on the other side of the restaurant hears me.

“Huh?”

“I’m…uh…not feeling well?” I respond, but when I realize it sounds more like I’m asking him, I shake my head and rephrase. “I feel sick, Jude. I think we need to go home.”

“You’re sick?”

“Yep. Not good. We should go.” I nod manically as I stand up from my chair with such force the damn thing topples over and onto the ground.

“Shit. Babe, do you need a doctor?”

Oh God. This web of lies is starting to get way bigger than you want…

“No, no.” I brush it off. “It’s fine. Just…I should probably take a hot shower and lie in bed. That’s it. Sick enough to need to leave, but not so sick that we should be worried. Like, half sick. Can’t-be-out-in-public sick.”

Jude just looks at me in bewilderment, surely because the shit coming out of my mouth doesn’t make sense, but I somehow manage to get him to follow my lead.

Once he tosses some money onto the table, he wraps his arm around my shoulders, tucking me close to his side, and guides us out of the restaurant.

And as we head toward our apartment, only a few blocks away, all I can think is, Holy moly. I really hope Julie is gone by the time we get there.

Jude

I have no idea what’s wrong with my girl, but I sure as shit am doing everything in my power to get her back home so I can try to figure it out.

Looks like the proposal plan isn’t happening tonight.

Hell, it almost happened. I was about two minutes away from getting down on one knee for the fourth time, but all of a sudden, Sophie said she wasn’t feeling well and started knocking shit over and acting a bit crazy with her need to leave the restaurant.

Damn, I hope she’s okay.

I keep her close to my side as we walk back to our place, and the whole way, I keep glancing down at her face, ensuring that she’s okay.

So far, so good. She doesn’t have to stop to puke or anything, and it’s not long before we’re inside our building and stepping onto the elevator.

Her phone pings with a text notification when we’re in the cart, and when she looks at the screen, the tension I noted in her shoulders earlier appears to dissipate.

“Everything okay?”

She nods.

“You still feel sick?”

“A little?” She just shrugs. “But I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

Just a little? After that mad dash out of Paesano’s?

I furrow my brow, examining her closer, but she turns her face away just enough that I can’t get a good read on her eyes.

What the fuck is happening?

The cart dings our arrival, and Sophie exclaims, “We’re here!” like she’s never been in an elevator before. And then she’s off the cart and scurrying toward our door, unlocking it, but at the same time not actually opening it, and turns to face me.

“I love you, Jude,” she says, and it’s all so odd that I feel my head cock to the side.

“Uh…I love you too?” I respond, but my confusion makes it sounds like more of a question than an answer. “Are you sure you’re okay, babe?”

“I’m perfect.” She smiles, stands up on her tippy-toes to press a kiss to my lips, and then she pushes the door open.

I shake my head and step inside, my eyes focused more on the ground than anything else, but when I notice a random rose petal on our entryway floor, I look up to find more rose petals, along with candles and flowers strategically placed all around our apartment.

And I’m not talking a small amount of flowers and candles; I’m talking a lot. So much so that if Thatch would’ve set this up, I’d already be calling the fire department.

It’s downright breathtaking, but it only makes me more fucking confused.

What the hell is this?

Unless I’ve suffered a stroke or all of a sudden gained superhuman powers that I’m not aware of, there’s no way I got my fifth proposal attempt together this fucking quickly…right?

“Jude.” Sophie grabs my attention and takes my hands into hers as she gets down on her knees before me. “I love you so much. I want forever with you. I want to be—”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” I cut her off. “What are you doing? Are you proposing to me?”

“Well…I’m trying to.”

“Wait…” I pause and look around the room as my mind puts all the pieces of the puzzle together. “You were faking being sick at the restaurant, weren’t you?”

“Maybe?” She grimaces, and that’s when I know that she fucking knew I was about to propose to her back there.

“You knew!” I exclaim and pull her to her feet before she has a chance to ask me to marry her. Lord knows I wouldn’t be able to say no to her. No fucking way. “You knew I was going to propose, and you faked being sick so that you could propose?!”

“I’m sorry, but do you realize how long it took Julie to set this up?” she shouts back at me with that sexy sass I love so much. “Hours of work, Jude! I couldn’t ruin it!” She turns on her heel and heads over to our fireplace, grabbing an iPad—her iPad—that was discreetly hiding behind a potted plant.

“Okay. Okay,” she says and puts a hand to her hip. “Now, we both just need to chill out and relax for a hot second. And then, I’m going to hit record on my iPad because I promised Julie I would record the whole thing, and we’re going to start from the beginning. But this time, you’re actually going to let me propose, okay?”

She’s in event planner mode, rambling and gesturing with her hands, and it’s the cutest fucking thing in the world. So much so that it makes laughs spill from my lips.

Immediately, Sophie stops mid-step and looks at me.

“Are you laughing right now?”

“Fuck yes, I’m laughing right now.”

She crinkles her nose. “Why?”

“Because you’re crazy and I love you.”

Her brow furrows, but I don’t give her any time to toss any more sassy responses my way. I stride right for her, take the iPad from her hands, and hit record. Once the video is on, I look right into the camera.

“Julie, honey, you really outdid yourself,” I say. “Although, I hate to be the bearer of bad news here, but Sophie isn’t going to be proposing to me tonight.”

I peer up to look at Sophie and find her standing there in absolute shock.

But I don’t let it stop me.

“She’s not proposing because I’m proposing to her. Right now.”

And right then, I set down the iPad, pull the Tiffany’s box I’ve been carrying around for six long fucking months out of my back pocket, and get down on one knee.

“Sophie, my love, my heart, my wild, adorable girl, I love you. You know this. Hell, anyone who sees the way I look at you knows this.”

Her hand goes to her mouth, and one tear falls down her cheek.

“Baby, I need you to be my wife. Please, I’m begging you, marry me. Spend the rest of your life with me. Let me love you forever.”

“Yes.”

Her answer is so immediate that I almost don’t believe my ears, but then she says it again.

“Yes.”

Hope blooms inside my chest, and it is so huge, so persistent, it feels like my lungs and heart have to shift to make room. “You’ll marry me?”

“Of course I’ll marry you, Jude,” she says through fresh tears. “I love you so much.”

Fuck yes!

Once I finally secure the ring on her finger, I stand to my feet and pull her into my arms, swinging us around on a hearty, exuberant chuckle.

“Thank fuck!” I exclaim so loud that Frankie barks from his crate in our bedroom. But Sophie just stares at me with her heart in her eyes and giggles leaving her lips. “Now, baby, are you ready to go to Vegas and get hitched?”

“No way.” She snorts. “I want a real wedding, Jude. With all our friends and family there to witness the day I say I do to the man of my dreams.”

“So, that’s a no on Vegas?”

“Definitely a no on Vegas.” Her mouth morphs into a mischievous grin. “But would you like to make a wager with me?”

“I’m listening.”

“I’ll bet you anything you want, anything your heart desires, that you and I are going to get married and be blissfully happy for the rest of our lives.”

I shake my head. “That’s a horrible fucking bet, babe.”

“Why?”

“Because I’d never bet against us. You and I are the one thing I’m certain about.”

“Ditto,” she whispers as she brushes her lips gently against mine. “Our love is a forever kind of love, Jude. It’s strong and stable. It’s sweet and kind. It’s wild and fierce. It’s passion personified. And it’s the most fun this girl has ever had.”

Her words make me grin. “Well, soon-to-be Mrs. Winslow, get ready for a lifetime of fun.”

THE END