My poor buddy Zack.

He’s been trying to pull off the perfect marriage proposal to Kate and yet he’s failed—epically—every time.

The first attempt wasn’t anything original, but it was expensive. He planned a weekend trip to the Bahamas, booked a suite at the Baha Mar, and left Ben with me. Just before he was set to leave the house…just as Kate was yelling at him from the kitchen to hurry up or they’d miss their plane…just because he had to look at the ring one more time to make sure it was definitely in the little black velvet box, the poor fucker popped the top and the ring toppled out and slipped down the bathroom sink drain.

I can’t help it. I still snicker to myself every time I imagine Zack’s face as the diamond disappeared.

Zack still took Kate to the Bahamas for the weekend, but he left me with instructions to get a plumber over to his house and retrieve the ring. It was the least I could do for him.

The second idea he had was even more magnificent, making the failure even worse.

He took Kate on a hot air balloon ride, where he paid a farmer to mow MARRY ME into his dried cornfield. Zack intended to produce the ring just as she caught sight of the words. Unfortunately, the balloon pilot was caught in an unexpected southwesterly breeze that blew them several miles off course, where they floated over the county landfill.

I seriously almost peed my pants when he told me that.

Now my boy is a little gun shy, and while in his heart of hearts he still wants to do something big and flashy, he told me the other day that sometimes he feels like just grabbing her hand at breakfast and shoving the ring on her finger.

This does not make me laugh, because proposing to Kate is a big deal to this man. He spent so many months, even years, feeling so damn guilty for never offering marriage to Ben’s mom, Gina. Now he’s able to reason it out. He can rationally understand that Gina just wasn’t the one. Which makes his proposal to Kate all the more important that he nail it.

“Maybe I could hire a singing telegram,” Zack says glumly.

“Dude…the purpose of the proposal is to get her to say yes. Do not do a singing telegram.”

“Maybe a dinner out and I’ll have the waiter put the ring in her glass of champagne?”

“Boring,” I say with a mock yawn.

“A skywriter?” he asks with his eyebrows raised in hope.

“Man, with the way your luck has been going, the plane would probably crash down on top of you.”

“I give up, then,” Zack says in frustration as he pushes out of the chair. “I’m just going home right now and as soon as she walks in the house, I’m going down on one knee.”

“Wait a minute,” I say to calm him. “Sit down and let’s think this through.”

Zack throws himself back down into the chair and crosses his arms over his chest. He looks a little…pouty.

Whatever.

“This is Kate,” I say logically. “What would mean the most to Kate?”

Zack shrugs his shoulders, but I can tell by the look in his eyes he actually knows exactly what would mean the most to her. He knows it and he doesn’t want to say it, and I’m perplexed.

So I push him. “Kate isn’t into big and splashy stuff. She doesn’t need the expensive trips or balloon rides.”

Rolling his eyes, Zack sits up in the chair and leans toward me. “But I need it,” he blurts out.

“What?” I ask in astonishment, because I think he may have just grown a vagina right here and now.

“I need to make a statement to Kate and to everyone and anyone that will listen. I want the entire world to know how much I love her and that I can’t wait for her to be my wife. I’d write it across the sky in every state if I could.”

And fuck…I think I just grew a vagina, because that actually chokes me up a bit. Zack is going overboard in his need to make Kate understand just how committed he is to the idea of marriage.

“Zack,” I say seriously, holding his gaze. “No, you don’t need that. You only need Kate.”

His shoulders sag a bit and he seems to deflate right in front of me. His face lowers and he sighs. “I know. I just want her to never doubt what I feel.”

I’m silent for a moment, because he’s actually talking about the difference between words and action. He feels the words aren’t enough so he wants to make up for it with action.

The way in which we do things speaks almost as loud as the actual words we say.

A prime example…the way Gray touched me this morning.

Do. Not. Fucking. Go. There.

“I got it,” I say suddenly and in a supreme effort to push Gray from my thoughts. “Propose in front of the team. At the Christmas party. You can’t fuck that up…just show up with the ring in your pocket and do it in front of the whole goddamned team. That right there will make a statement.”

Zack’s eyes light up. His lips curve upward in a smile. “A Christmas proposal?”

“It’s just a little less than three weeks away.”

“A Christmas proposal,” he muses again, then shoots me a big grin. “You’re a fucking genius.”

A-a-a-a-and, that gets me thinking of Gray again. She’s a certified genius. And I want to feel her hands on me again.

Just fucking stop it, I yell at myself.

I close my eyes and gingerly rub at my temples, because this war inside my head is causing the mother of all headaches.

“You okay, man?” Zack asks.