“My love, that’s four in a row. I’ve never had this kind of luck. It’s all down to you. You’re the Gold Cup,” he said, dropping on one knee. “Marry me, you distressingly foxy goddess.” Cilla blinked. “What? Are you drunk? You’ve got two to go before your bet pays out.” “If you say yes, then I’ve already won,” Gaz said. “Look, I’ll rip up the ticket right now to prove I don’t care—” “No!” Nick and I shouted in unison. “No, you clod, don’t rip up your bloody Jackpot,” Cilla said, though she had tears shining in her eyes. “I believe you. Of course I’ll marry you. Who else would be mad enough to
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