She caught sight of Jess coming out of a room. She slowed down and stopped in front of her. “How ya doin’, sweetie?”

“Everybody gets morning sickness in the

first trimester. Leave it to me to get it in the second.”

“At least two of my aunts got it in the second. You have Saltines?”

She held up the packet. “But it’s Christmas. I should be gorging, not purging.”

“Now you’re like all those Hollywood stars.”

She smirked. “Thanks.”

“Have you seen my honey bun?”

Jess nodded. “See those stairs at the end of the hall? Go all the way up and the door at the end will take you to the roof. He’s been up there for like an hour.”

“You know how he is about crowds.” Gwen headed toward the stairs. “How long before you need me?”

“Another ten, fifteen…I…I…” Hearing retching noises, Gwen spun around to see Jess dashing back into the bedroom with her hand over her mouth. Gwen started to head toward her, but she saw Smitty.

“She needs you.”

“I know.” He held up a soda can. “I got her some ginger ale.”

He winked and disappeared into the bedroom, closing the door behind him.

Following Jess’s directions, Gwen found Lock right where Jess had said he’d be. On the roof.

Gwen sat across from him, her legs straddling the roof’s ledge. It was a healthy drop if either of them fell, but hell…they’d survived going over a mountain, they could survive this.

Lock smiled. “Hey.”

“Hey. Sorry I’m late.”

“No problem.” He leaned in and kissed her and like always she lost herself in that kiss. Hard not to when he had those damn lips that did something to her every time.

Lock was the first to pull back, but he nuzzled his nose against hers, and Gwen ended up giggling.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he sighed.

“I’m glad I’m here, too.” She took his hand between her own. “You ready for tomorrow?”

His eyes crossed, making Gwen giggle more.

“Breakfast at my parents’ and dinner at your mom’s? Can’t wait.”

“Let’s get through tomorrow and then for New Year’s Eve it’ll just be you, me, champagne, Chinese food from down the block, and your favorite honey.”

“You promise?”

“Absolutely. We’ll need the break.”

“You sure you want to miss out on the yearly Shaw extravaganza at his hotel?” When Gwen only stared at him, he said, “I’ll take that as a yes.”

“Good. Now let’s get downstairs.” She started to get up, but Lock tugged her back down.

“Wait.”

“I want to give you something,” Lock said, digging deep for the balls to do this.

“I thought we were going to wait until Christmas…especially important since I haven’t actually finished wrapping.”

“This can’t wait.” Lock took a deep breath and quickly placed his gift into her palm. “Here.”

Gwen opened her hand, gazing down at it until she said, “It’s an engagement ring.”

“Yeah. It had a box. Two, actually, including one of those blue Tiffany ones.”

Slowly Gwen’s gaze lifted to his. “It

had a box?”

“Yeah. I was holding it, trying to think of the best way to ask you to marry me and I…uh…accidentally crushed it.”

“I see.”

“The ring’s fine, though. Right?” He leaned in, trying to look. “Isn’t it?”

“It’s…” Gwen suddenly looked up at him. “Are you asking me to marry you?”

“Badly but…yes.”

“Why?”

“What do you mean why?”

“Mitch still calls you ‘that bastard’ and Bren won’t even speak to you and I’m almost positive something is going on between my mother and one, if not

all, of your uncles and Blayne is well…Blayne, and my Uncle Cally is still talking about taking a two-by-four to the back of your head and—”

“Gwen. They’re not you. I love

you. I want to marry you.”

“You’re sure?”

Lock laughed. “Of course I’m sure. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. But…I don’t want to rush you into anything. So if you feel more comfortable—”

Gwen slipped the ring on her left index finger. “It fits. And it’s perfect.”

“I went for subtle. Hope that was okay.”

“Perfect.”

She looked up at him and Lock was reaching for her, knowing what her answer would be from the love in her eyes, when the roof door slammed opened and Blayne walked out. “Hey. They want to start giving out the gifts so…”

Lock didn’t know what Blayne saw or if the friends had some nonverbal communication that passed between them but suddenly Blayne shot forward and grabbed Gwen’s hand.

“Oh, my God!

Oh, my God!”

“Blayne,” Gwen warned. “Don’t do anything stup—

Blayne!”

Lock watched as Blayne dragged his fiancée off the roof.

He charged after them, but the pair moved like lightning, their derby skills allowing Blayne to drag Gwen through the crowd of people in the wild dog house, dodging bodies and kids and