Hey guys! I'm back with the next chapter! Why, you ask? Well, because my muse is absolutely OBSESSED with this one, and won't even let me LOOK at 'Writing Mr. Perfect'. Also, Raychel isn't online to talk to me, like we normally do... so I'm quite bored. *LOL* I didn't think ya'll would mind. 
Here it is!!! The big proposal!!! I hope you guys like it and I hope it lives up to your expectations. The whole fic *IS* based on this event, and what follows, so it would REALLY suck if I blew this. *LMAO*
Ok... onward we go.
Chapter Two
(Liz POV)
I check on the garlic bread in the oven, making sure that it’s not burning. Just as I’m closing the oven door, Sophia starts banging her sippy cup on top of her high chair, laughing hysterically at something down the hallway.
I have to laugh at her. I made the mistake of giving her spaghetti-o’s, and she has sauce smeared all over her face, in her hair, and on her clothes. Not to mention that there are little spaghetti-o’s littering the floor at her feet, some quite a distance away. This girl loves to throw food.
“What’re you laughing about, baby?” I ask her, coming to look around the corner where Max is crawling down the hallway. I raise an eyebrow at him “What are you doing?”
I laugh as he looks up and sees me, hopping to his feet. “Nothing.” He shrugs before walking up and wrapping his arms around my waist. “I missed you today.” He says, dipping his head to give me a kiss. Sophia lets out a loud scream as half her spaghetti-o’s go flying onto the floor. Max looks up and takes inventory of the situation. “Wow, that’s a big mess.”
“Yeah, it is.” I sigh. “Thank goodness I don’t have to clean it up.” I giggle, making my way back to the stove.
“Why do I have to clean it up?” He whines, coming up beside me and jumping up to sit on the counter top.
“Because I made dinner, and it’s the agreement that when I cook, you clean. And vice-versa. Not to mention the fact that you came home late, after I slaved over a hot stove all day.” I press the back of my hand to my forehead for dramatic effect. “I’m drained.”
“Baby, I told you on the phone I was sorry that I was going to be late.” He pouts at me.
“I know. And as nice as it was, that you called ahead and made sure I knew that you’d be late... you were still late. I’m starving, the baby is a mess, and I’m getting cranky, so lets just eat, ok?” I don’t wait for a response before I grab the plates out of the cabinet.
I put some spaghetti on both of our plates as he goes to the refrigerator to get us some soda. I put a piece of garlic bread on our plates, then take them both to the table. “Honey, grab silverware.” I tell him, pulling Sophia’s highchair closer to the table.
He comes over, setting my drink and silverware down in front of me before he takes his seat at the other end of the table.
After about ten minutes of relative silence, minus Sophia gurgling, banging and babbling, I finally decided to talk to him. “So, did you guys get a lot done after work?” I ask, glancing up at him. He stops mid-chew, glancing up at me with wide eyes. I narrow my eyes at him. “Why do you look so guilty?”
“I’m not guilty of anything.” He shrugs, pushing around his spaghetti.
“Why aren’t you eating?” I question, putting my fork down on my plate to cross my arms on top of the table.
I’m not an idiot. I can read Max Evans better than I can read a book. He’s hiding something, and he’s trying his hardest to make it seem like he’s not. I’ll get him to crack eventually. I always do.
“I am eating.” He answers, proving his statement by taking a big bite out of his bread. “See?” He mumbles around his food.
“You’re hiding something.” I nonchalantly reply. I’ll let him know I’m onto him, it’s easier to get him to crack this way.
I’m rewarded with the classic ‘I got caught with my hand in the cookie jar’ face. “What makes you think I’m hiding something?” He replies, instantly schooling his features to appear as if he has not a care in the world.
“Because you are.” I smile at him. “Just tell me what it is, Max.” I reason with him. “Save me the trouble of beating it out of you. Just relinquish the information.”
“Fine.” He throws his hands up in surrender. “If you must know...” He begins, then sighs. He wants me to know that he’s upset. Ok, whatever. I get it. “I’m planning a date night for tomorrow night.” He leans back in his chair. “Are you happy, now? I wanted to do something nice, be a good boyfriend, and plan a nice date for us, and you’ve gone and ruined it.” He pouts.
Aww. How sweet of him! He knows how much I love date night! We haven’t been able to do it in a few months. Either he’s been swamped at work, or Sophia has been sick and we didn’t want to pawn her off on my parents. They have enough issues without dealing with a fussing baby all night. God knows I love them, but still.
“You’re planning date night?” A big smile spreads across my face. “That’s so sweet, baby. Where are we going? What are we doing?” I instantly fire off questions at him. We usually just end up going to the movies, or to dinner, but if he’s planning it, he must want it to be special, since we’ve had to put off our last few dates.
“Liz.” He whines, giving me a long suffering glance. “You’ve already ruined half the surprise, will you just let me keep some of the mystery?”
“Ok, fine.” I relent, going back to eating dinner. “Oh, but what if my parents have plans tomorrow night and they can’t watch Soph?”
“Well, after dinner, you’ll just have to call them and ask them.” He shrugs. “If they’re busy, you know my parents will take her.”
“That’s true.” I nod, giving him one last smile.
After we’re done eating, he starts putting the left overs in the fridge and loading the dishes into the dishwasher as I attempt to get a little of Sophia’s food off her face. “You’re such a messy girl.” I shake my head at her, trying to get her to hold still long enough so I can get the spaghetti sauce off her hands.
Once I’m convinced that I’ve gotten all of it that I can until I get her into the bathtub, I wipe the wash cloth across her face, despite the fact that she’s struggling against me. I finally get most of it off, before pulling her bib off and tossing on the highchair top.
I pull her free from the highchair, setting her on my hip. “Bath time.” I tell her, to which she giggles loudly. She loves taking baths, for some weird reason. “I’m going to go start her bath,” I call over my shoulder at Max as I walk down the hallway towards the stairs. “Come up when you’re done, ok?”
“Yeah, ok.” I hear his voice carry down the hallway.
I walk up the stairs, having a one-sided conversation with Sophia the whole way. I finally get to the bathroom and I start the water, making sure it’s the right temperature before I begin stripping her down, occasionally finding a random spaghetti-o in her clothes. Note to self: No more spaghetti for this girl.
I eventually get her in the bathtub, and start trying to wash her hair. She squirms around, grabbing at the toys that float by, angrily yelling when she moves too much and the water goes down onto her face.
“Well, don’t move so much, and this wouldn’t be a problem.” Yeah, I’m trying to reason with my year and a half old daughter. This is gonna work.
When Max finally makes his way into the bathroom, I swear that I have more water on me then Sophia does. He starts laughing, but when I swing my glare his direction, he wisely shuts up and comes over to help me.
Fifteen minutes later, we finally manage to get her clean. Although it wasn’t without its casualties. Max ended up with soap in his eye, and we both ended up drenched from head to toe. I pull Soph out of the bathtub and wrap her in a towel as Max goes to change into dry clothes. As I’m coming out of the bathroom to go into Sophia’s room and get her into her pajamas, Max meets me in the doorway.
“I’ll take her.” He says, grabbing her out of my arms. “You go change into some dry clothes and call your parents, ok?”
“Ok.” I shrug, making my way down to our room. I change into my pajamas before grabbing the phone off the night stand and flopping onto the bed. I press my parents on the speed dial and wait as it rings.
“Hello?” My mom answers the phone.
“Hey Mom.” I reply, fiddling with the top of the comforter.
“Hi sweetie. How are you?” She asks. “Jeff! Stop yelling at the TV! I’m on the phone!”
I can’t help but giggle. My parents are hilarious. “I’m fine, Mom. I was wondering if you and Daddy could watch Sophia tomorrow night. Max is planning a date night for us. Although, he won’t tell me what we’re doing and its driving me insane.” I sigh. I really dislike surprises. I like knowing what’s going on. Call me nosey, I don’t care. I just hate surprises.
“Sure, we’d love to watch her for you. We haven’t gotten to lately with you and Max being so busy.” She muses. Yes, mother, I know this.
“Yeah, I know.” I unnecessarily respond. I glance up at Max as he comes into the bedroom, looking around before glancing down at me. “What do you need?” I ask him, moving the phone.
“Did you take Sophia’s baby lotion again?” He asks, turning in a circle to survey the room.
“Yeah, its over there.” I point to the dresser on the far side of the room. Now, before you call me a bad mother, stealing my daughter’s stuff, its just lotion. It’s not like I won’t buy her more. And besides, we use that Johnson’s Bedtime Bath stuff on her. Its in that purple tinted bottle... it smells
so good!
“What time are you guys going to bring her by?” My mom asks, bringing me back to the conversation.
“I dunno, hold on.” I move the phone away from my mouth, just as Max is leaving the room. “Wait!” I called, causing him to halt in his movement and take two steps backwards. “What time will we drop Soph off at my parents house?”
He thinks for a moment. “The reservation is for seven, so I’d say around 6:30.” Max says, before walking back out of the room.
“You hear that, mom? We’ll stop by at 6:30.” I relay the time.
“Ok, honey. We’ll see you then, ok?”
“Ok, mom. Love you.” I reply.
“Love you too, baby. Bye.” Before she hangs up, I hear her yelling at my dad again. “Damn it, Jeff! Stop yelling at the TV!” Then the line clicks. I put the phone back on the cradle, unable to stop myself from laughing slightly. God, and people wonder why I’m slightly weird.
<center>****</center>
I’m standing in front of the mirror in the foyer, checking my hair from every angle, and making sure that it’s doing exactly what I want it to do. Yes, Phillip and Diane are insane, and they insisted that we need a house that could fit us, times nine thousand and five.
We have a foyer, a sitting room, a livingroom, a formal and informal diningroom, a sunroom, there’s a gym downstairs, a pool out back... its basically a carbon copy of their house. Thankfully, they were smart enough to realize that we didn’t want to live on top of them, so they didn’t do anything totally insane, like buy us the house next door to theirs. However, they are only three blocks over.
I stop playing with my hair when the doorbell rings. I can’t stop the smile that instantly spreads across my face. Whenever we do date night, Max takes the baby over to my parents house, giving me time to finish getting ready, and then he rings the doorbell, and takes me out, like it’s a real date. It’s so cute.
I didn’t see him before he left, so I’m anxious to see if he’s as dressed up as he insisted that I be. After I had the baby, his mother took me shopping, and bought me five years worth of cocktail dresses, and evening gowns. Why? Fuck if I know, but I’m not complaining, seeing as how Max insisted that I wear an evening gown tonight.
I give myself one last once-over in the mirror, taking in the dress that I chose. It’s pretty simple, that’s why I fell in love with it to begin with. It’s a black, spaghetti strap, floor length gown. There’s a slit that goes up the left leg, ending about halfway up my thigh. The neckline comes to just under where my cleavage is, and there’s a circular diamond... thing that sits there. Hard to explain, but very cute.
I walk towards the door, only stumbling once. Why did I tell myself I should wear these shoes? Sure, they’re freakin adorable, and yes, their Manolos, but I can’t walk very well in them. Oh well, I’ll just have to hope that I don’t fall flat on my face anytime during the evening.
I open the door, and Max is standing on the other side, looking absolutely amazing in a black suit. While he decided to dress it down a bit, skipping a tie, and opting to leave the first button of his white button-up undershirt undone, he still looks like a million bucks.
He gives me a wide smile as he steps into the doorway, giving me a soft kiss on the lips. He doesn’t want to be wearing my lipstick, and he doesn’t want to hear me complaining because he ruined my lipstick. Smart man.
“You look beautiful.” He tells me, producing a single white rose from behind his back. He twirls it in front of me for a minute before handing it over. I take it and daintily sniff at it, as he puts his hand on the small of my back. “Ready?”
“Yeah.” I nod, reaching behind me to grab my little black sequined clutch purse off the table by the mirror.
Max locks the door behind us, before walking me to the Denali, and opening the door for me. Once we’re both seated in the car, he starts it up and we begin driving to our destination, not that I have any idea where the hell that is.
I glance over at him, and he’s slowly nodding his head in time with the Velvet Revolver song that’s playing softly in the background. He must feel me looking at him, because he glances over. “What?” He asks.
“Nothing. Just thinking about how sexy you look.” I purr, reaching over and trailing my fingers up his thigh.
He releases a shuttering breath, removing one of his hands from the steering wheel to grab my fingers and stop their motions. “Baby. Be good.” He warns, shooting me a hungry glance. I know the last thing he wants me to do it ‘be good’, but I comply.
A few minutes later, we pull up in front of Damiens, one of the best new restaurants in town. His parents were just raving about his place last Saturday when we went over there for lunch.
The valet quickly opens my door and helps me out before rushing around to get the keys from Max. He walks around the car, offering me his arm. “Shall we?”
I tuck my hand into the crook of his arm. “Of course.”
<center>****</center>
I think I just ate the best steak on the entire planet. That’s all I’m going to say about that.
Max had reserved a table in the corner, slightly out of the way and private. He had a bottle of champaign chilled on ice when we got here... This man is so smooth when he wants to be.
I pick up my glass, taking another sip of my champaign as I glance over at Max, who’s staring at me. I can’t help but giggle, the bubbles from the alcohol obviously having gone to my head a bit. “Why are you staring at me like that?” I ask, setting my glass back down on the table.
“No reason.” He shrugs, reaching over to take my hand in his. “Just because you’re beautiful.” Yeah, this man can definitely pitch woo.
I dip my head slightly, before looking back up at him. “Thank you.”
The waiter makes his presence known, coming to stand near the table. “How was everything?” He asks, glancing between us.
“It was wonderful.” I gush, honestly.
“I absolutely agree.” Max nods.
“Well, I’m very happy to hear that you enjoyed your dinner. Are we ready for dessert?” He asks, looking at Max.
“Oh, I can’t eat anything else.” I shake my head. “I’ll absolutely explode.”
“Yes, we’re ready.” Max tells him, completely disregarding everything that just came out of my mouth. What just happened?? He was being nice, and smooth, now he’s ignoring me? What the hell is that about?
The waiter nods, before turning on his heel and heading back towards the kitchen. Max slides his gaze over to me. “What?” He asks, picking up his glass and taking a large drink of his champaign. What is up with him?
“Honey, I can’t eat anything else.” I try to explain to him. “I’m so full. I was full halfway through the meal, but it was too good to not eat it. I thought I was going to throw up with every bite I put in my mouth, but I stuck it out. Now, however, I’m done. I’m not stupid enough to think I can make it through dessert. I’m sorry.”
“Sweetie, it’ll be fine.” He assures me, draining his champaign glass and pouring another one. He tops off mine before putting the bottle back in the ice and taking two large drinks from the glass.
“Are you ok?” I ask, barely refraining from putting my elbows on the table before I clasp my hands in my lap. Damn you, Diane.
“Yeah, of course.” He nods, setting down his glass. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“You’re just acting a little funny.” I shrug.
He doesn’t respond, so I don’t bother to press him about it. I turn my attention to my nails, which I got manicured earlier today. Isabel stopped by, and wanted to try to take care of Sophia for a while, something about training for when she has her baby, so I went and got a manicure. Seemed like a pretty good trade off to me.
I glance up slightly when I hear someone clear their throat before looking back down at my nails. I do a double take when our waiter sets a vase full of white roses in front of me on our table. “Thirty seven roses, for the lady.” He says, off-handedly.
My jaw drops as I take them in. Wait... thirty seven? Wouldn’t it have made more sense to make it thirty six, so there was an even three dozen.
Wait, am I really mentally complaining about the number of absolutely gorgeous flowers sitting in front of me?! What’s wrong with me!?
I look over at Max, who has a smile stretched from ear to ear. “Do you like them?”
“Of course, baby!” I lean over to give him a kiss. “They’re beautiful, thank you!” I go back to looking at the flowers. It takes me a few seconds to notice that one of them is slightly... different. It’s not funny looking, but it has light blue around the ends of the petals.
I reach out to run my fingers on it, and its hard. What the hell is this? My eyebrows draw together. I touch the other flowers, they all seem normal. Then I touch this funky blue one, and its hard... like plaster, or something. “What’s up with this one?” I ask Max.
He looks over, his eyebrows also drawing together. “I don’t know.” He reaches out to touch it. “That’s weird, right?” I nod. Of course its weird, normal flowers aren’t like that. “Well, take it out of there and look at it.” He encourages.
I find that a slightly odd solution to the problem, but I do as I’m told. As I pull the flower out further, I find that its attached to some kind of base. I set it down on the table and stare at it. “What is going on?” I glance over at Max, who simply shrugs. “Flowers don’t come attached to bases like this....” I trail off, noticing that half of there is a gold circle about halfway down the bloom of the flower. “What the hell...?” I grab onto the stem, which is also hard, and I push at the gold thing. Nothing happens. What is this? I don’t like games.
Suddenly, I don’t know what I do, but the top of the rose pops open. I jump backwards, started by the sudden event, then my eyes land on what’s inside the flower.
“Oh my God!” I put my hands over my mouth to muffle my scream. I look at Max, as he reaches over and takes the ring from the inside of the flower and slides off his chair, and onto one knee. “Oh my God...” I mumble again, as he reaches up and takes my left hand away from my mouth.
“I love you more than I could ever even begin to explain. There just aren't words for how much I love you.” He begins, smiling up at me, poising the ring over my finger. “You’re the most incredible woman I’ve ever met. I know we’ve had a rocky past, but that’s all behind us now. I want us to be a family. You, me and Sophia. I want to know that no matter what happens, you’re going to be there with me. I want to be able to call you my wife.” He takes a deep breath, his eyes shining with unshed tears.
I’ve been crying since the minute that knee hit the floor, buddy. I couldn’t stop crying now if my life depended on it!
“I’ve made the mistake of letting you go once before, and I promise, I will never let you go again.” He pauses, and I’m ready to throttle him if he doesn’t spit it out! “Elizabeth Parker, will you marry me?”
“Yes!” I yell, not hesitating for a second.
“Yes?” He parrots, honestly looking shocked by my answer.
“Yes! Of course I’ll marry you!” I continue to yell. Why am I yelling?
Before I have time to contemplate that, he slips the ring onto my finger, dropping a kiss on my knuckle before he stand up, pulling me to my feet with him. His arms immediately go around my waist, as mine frame his face and I press my lips against his. We break apart, resting our foreheads together.
All of a sudden, everyone in the restaurant breaks into a deafening applause. I spring away from Max like I’ve been burned, looking around at everyone. I self-consciously laugh, covering my face with my hands.
Max chuckles, pulling me back up against him. His lips find mine again and for a minute, we just stand there, enjoying the moment.
We finally sit down and I look at the ring. Two words for you: HOLY. SHIT! This thing is HUGE!
Oh, my God. I’m getting married again!
TBC...
