Coming Home To The Unexpected Who: Bronte and Grant Where: Their house When: Early Evening - July 10
Bronte walked into the house, dropping her briefcase as was habit, on the small table just to the left of the doorway. The blond then shrugged out of her jacket before announcing herself. "Brenna.... Grant?" Her jacket tossed on top of the briefcase before Bronte stepper further onto to premises. After a long day at the hotel the blond was looking forward to doing nothing more then relaxing that evening, and maybe unpacking some of the few boxes that were left to be dealt with.
So imagine her surprise when, as she took her first look around... most of those boxes (save for a few small ones that were her more delicate and personal possessions) had already been unpacked and put away. The place was actually really starting to look like a HOME, not just a house.
Wearing old, faded jeans and a fairly tattered Led Zep tee (from the looks of it, he likely got it at an actual Zep CONCERT), his hair a little mussed, Grant walked out to greet her, a proud, tired grin on his face.
"Hey beautiful. I got done early today, and... me and Brenna were a little bored, so we figured we'd surprise you and try to finish as much of the place up for you as we could. Hope you like it."
"I don't think surprise would properly define my reaction." The blond smiled a smile that literally lit up her whole face. "This is really a most pleasant thing to come home to." She said closing the distance that stood between them. "Thank you." Bronte smiled pressing an appreciative kiss to her man's cheek. "Is Brenna around?" The young woman glancing around the place once more with her eyes searching for signs to indicate whether their daughter was in the house or not.
"Nah. Sent her out for a bit." Of course, the girl had gone almost gleefully when Grant told her WHY he wanted this alone-time with Bronte, but shh. "Do me a favor, ok? Just go have a seat, and grab a drink or something. I wanna go change into something that makes me look like less of a cretin and then I need to talk to you about something."
"Oo.. kay." Bronte eyed the man with suspicion as she could never be sure just what was going through his head at times like this when he was being kind of secretive. And that he had just told her that he sent Brenna out for the evening only added to her suspicions. "Am I going to need something stronger then water with lemon to handle this?" The consumption of hard liquor hadn't exactly fit in to how she wanted to spend her evening, but Bronte wanted to be prepared to handle anything serious Grant was about to throw at her.
"Nah. Save the booze for loosening up the next time I wanna try something new and kinky." Dear Jesus, he said that with a half-serious tone, too. After about 2 or 3 minutes, Grant walked into the living room wearing black pleated slacks, a white button-down shirt with the top few buttons undone, and a black blazer. His hands were stuffed almost nervously in his pockets, and he had a mischievous but eager smile on his face.
"Ok. So... I'm gonna start talking in a few seconds, and once I do, I'm begging you to just let me finish before you say anything, otherwise I'm liable to get so nervous I forget what I was trying to say, or possibly even just faint. Neither of which will make me look like much of a manly-man. Ok?"
By the time Grant had re-entered the living of the house Bronte had settled herself on the sofa with a glass of ice water with a slice of lemon floating among the cubes. "Now you are starting to scare me Grant." Bronte not liking the vibe she was getting with this whole "Grant not being himself" bit. She was used to his boy-like ways, but when he started acting serious, which happened very rarely, it gave the blond cause for concern and worry.
"Look, it's nothing bad, ok? Not unless you're planning on doing the Hokey Pokey on my heart at the end of this. Then it'll be bad. For me, anyway."
Yeah, Grant. Because your rambling made so much sense. Sigh.
"Ok. So... we've been together for a little while now. Not as long as some of the couples we know, granted... but still. A while. And I know I'm starting to sound stupid here, so let me just blurt this out before I lose my nerve."
"Alright. So... here's where I find my inner courage and just say it. Bronte, I love you. You manage to put up with all the crap I give you, and you put up with MOST of it with a smile. You're sexy, you're intelligent, you're driven, and I can't think of anyone I'd rather make an honest woman of. Also, we DO kinda already have a somehow-adult child together."
Honest woman? Really? Has anyone even USED that term in the last century Grant?
"Bronte..." he slowly got down to one knee, taking a small black box from his pocket, and opening it to reveal a small but brilliant (he knew Bronte would scoff at wearing something big and gaudy) diamond ring. "Will you marry me?"
Bronte just stared at him throughout Grant's entire speech, and probably for the first time in her life Bronte was rendered speechless for a long moment as her eyes flickered back and forth between the barrier of the ring on one knee and the ring itself. And then the blond dared to ask an unexpected question. "Are you just doing this because of Brenna?" If he hadn't made mention of their near adult child, Bronte could very well have answered him right there and then, but with Bronte being Bronte she wanted there to be 100% certainty from him on his true reasons.
"No... she was just the thing that made me finally stop being a chickenshit and ask, like I've wanted to for the last three months. I guess she showed me that maybe there IS a chance you'd say yes." Aw... he was actually admitting he didn't think she'd actually marry him? How sort-of sweet...
"Yes." She got out meekly. "A thousand times, yes." Bronte added with a quivering lower lip as she set down her drink. Any further words just didn't seem to be appropriate at that moment, so Bronte went with something that would speak more powerful then any words she could have possibly spoken. Cupping his face within her hands, Bronte leaned forward to kiss him with all the passion and love that was welling up inside her.
Oh, thank the heavens that Grant didn't know just what a huge thing he'd just done in managing to get the elusive Bronte Bale to marry him. It would likely give him a massive ego. No... he just returned the kiss, holding her in his arms for a long, quiet moment, seemingly not wanting to let her go.
"I'm guessing... you knew I was The One when you saw my amazing dance moves at Ben's wedding..."
Bronte laughed weakly looking at him and swatted his arm lightly as tears of happiness trickled down her cheeks. "That definitely did me in."
"Yeah... s'what I thought. Thank God I didn't use a yo-yo in front of you. Seriously. NO woman can help but fall head over heels for me when she sees my mad yo-yo skills."
Now THIS was adorable. He was joking, almost solely because even HAPPY tears coming from her broke his heart a little. He hated seeing her cry THAT much.
"You ever use a yo-yo in my presence and you'll be forever banned from the bedroom." Bronte sniffed with a swipe of fingertip across the base of her eyes to wipe away the tears. Of course just as Grant was doing, Bronte was joking as well. She wasn't going to let anything ruin this happy moment, one of the happiest of her life.
He kissed her sweetly under each eye, kissing the rest of her tears away. "So... yeah. Brenna knows what I was planning. That's why it wasn't exactly hard to get her to amscray for a while. Actually... I could be wrong but I think I heard her GIGGLE. Yes, you heard me right... I think Brenna GIGGLED."
"She is definitely your daughter." Bronte had never giggled in her life, at least as far as she could recall, so the giggling had to have come from Grant's side of the family. "And I'm sure she'll stay out for as long as she possibly can. Which means," Bronte lifted a hand to gently caress her fiance's cheek, "we should make the most of that time." The look in her eyes was hint enough on just how that time should be spent.
"Well now, Mrs. Kellerman..." Yeah, he totally said it. "...are you trying to seduce me?" He asked in a mock conspiratorial tone, waggling his eyebrows.
"Are you complaining?" Questioning his question with a question and the warmest of smiles.
"Not at all. Let's go." He said hurriedly, practically dragging her away...