Bright Smile & London Eye (Walker Brothers #2)

23. Epilogue - Lexie

Lexie

"Good morning, Beautiful," Jackson whispers in my ear to wake me up. Grumbling, I keep my eyes closed, trying to scoot away from him.

It feels way too early to wake up.

"Happy anniversary," he whispers again, and that finally makes me blink my eyes open.

"Happy anniversary," I mumble groggily, still half-asleep, and return the kiss he presses to my lips.

The first few times he kissed me right after waking up, I protested—after all, morning breath is kind of disgusting. But he insisted on kissing me anyway, and honestly, if it’s him, a kiss is well worth the morning breath.

"Now go back to sleep," I say, closing my eyes again and cuddling into him blindly, feeling him chuckle.

"Nope, you gotta wake up." He presses a kiss to my forehead, then rolls out of bed, taking the covers with him. I groan. He knows me too well.

"You know I love you, right?" I ask, blinking one eye open. "Because right now, I could absolutely kill you."

"You probably could, but you wouldn’t want to." He grins at me, way too happily for this time of night.

A glance at my nightstand reveals it’s barely four o’clock—not exactly a time I intended to wake up on my day off. Alan insisted for me to have today off so we could celebrate our one-year anniversary in peace, instead of at Books and Bake.

"Can’t it wait a bit?" I grumble. “Maybe to a time that’s in the two-digits?”

He grins, then grabs my wrist and pulls me upright until I’m standing next to him, not even hiding my yawn.

"Get dressed, Beautiful. I’m taking you somewhere."

Now that makes me perk up. "Take me where?" I ask, but he just shakes his head.

"It’s a surprise. Wear something comfy and warm," he demands, disappearing from our bedroom.

Once summer arrived, the apartment above the running ovens became unbearable. Every night I had to sleep up there was pure suffering. As a result, I spent so much time at Jackson’s place that it was a no-brainer when he finally asked me to move in about three months ago.

Of course, I’d totally intended to move back into my flat come autumn, but honestly, I’m happy we’re living together in his fancy, luxurious white apartment. It’s barely a 10-minute walk from Bake and Books, which makes it even more perfect for me and less appealing to move back.

Grumbling under my breath, I open the wardrobe and get dressed quickly, halting before I walk out and switch one of my sweatshirts for one of his. He said to wear something comfy, and his sweatshirts are way more comfortable than mine—even though he always complains he doesn’t have any left to wear himself.

Which is a lie. He has like 30 sweatshirts. He’s just nitpicky about which ones he likes.

"Beautiful as always," Jackson says with a grin, tilting my chin up for a quick, heated kiss before taking my hand and pulling me after him.

"Where are we going?" I ask once more, but he just shakes his head again.

"Surprise," he sing-songs, opening the car door for me. "You’ll see soon enough."

I roll my eyes. He’s entirely too hyper for this time.

"Morning," I greet Max, who gives me a friendly nod in return, and scoot over so Jackson can climb in behind me.

"One more thing," he says as he closes the door, then turns to me and pulls my woolen hat way down until it covers my eyes.

"Hey!" I protest, trying to push it back up, but he quickly captures my hands.

"Come on, Beautiful," he implores, and I can feel myself growing weak to his voice. "Let me surprise you just this once."

I grumble and cross my arms in front of my chest. I hate surprises. I’m way too curious for them. But then again, maybe I can repay him. I’ve spent the past few months saving up for a weekend away and he doesn’t know about it yet.

As we drive, I wrack my brain. How can I make my present a surprise for him that keeps him just as on edge as this? I’d intended to just hand it to him, but now that seems so boring in comparison.

It doesn’t take us long to arrive. It also doesn’t feel like we drove on a highway in between, so we must still be somewhere in London.

"I’ll open your door," Jackson says. "Keep your hat down."

"Okay, okay," I grumble, my hand halfway raised to pull the hat back up, but I refrain. He’s put a lot of thought into this. I’m not going to ruin it just because I’m curious.

I startle when the car door on my side suddenly opens, much to Jackson’s amusement.

"Sorry," he says with a chuckle, then reaches for my hand. "Come on. I got your head."

I feel his hand on the back of my head, protecting me from banging it to the frame as I climb out of the car. Still walking with him almost blindly, he leads me a bit, his arm around my shoulder, announcing every single step until we finally come to a standstill.

"All right," he says, sounding excited, like a child on Christmas morning, as he finally pulls the hat off my head. "Ta-da!"

It takes me a few blinks until my eyes adjust, and I look at him quizzically.

"The London Eye?"

"Yeah." He grins at me proudly, and I shake my head.

"It’s not even open yet," I point out and now it’s his turn to shake his head.

"You know," he steps closer, hugging me from behind and speaking right into my ear, "being famous has certain perks. Like being able to rent out the London Eye so we can enjoy a beautiful sunrise over the rooftops of London, all by ourselves."

"You’re crazy," I hiss at him, gently slapping the hand resting on my hip. "You’re spending I don’t know how much on a Ferris wheel ride we could have gotten for 40 bucks."

"Oh, please," he chuckles. "You wouldn’t spend forty bucks on it, you always find an excuse. And no, this isn’t forty bucks, but it’s an exclusive ride. With the cameras off," he adds, his voice dropping suggestively.

"I’m not fooling around with you on a Ferris wheel," I hiss, making him laugh. I know he means it as a joke, but then again, that one time in the car was really hot. Who knows how long I can continue to deny him?

"Damn, there goes my dream," he says with mock disappointment, dripping with irony. "Come on, let’s have our exclusive ride."

There’s only one person around who leads us to the gondola, opens the door for us, and closes it once we’re inside. The pod looks futuristic, almost like stepping into a glass egg, with an uncomfortable-looking oval bench right in the middle.

"Are you going to be okay?" I ask Jackson, considering his claustrophobia. These things are really not big.

"It’s got a bunch of windows, so I’ll be fine," he assures me, sitting down and patting the bench next to him. "Come on, we’ve been wanting to do this for over a year now. Let’s make the best of it."

At his words, a bright smile washes over my face, and I plant myself right beside him. Immediately, he lifts his arm, and I snuggle into his side, wrapping my arms around him and leaning my chin on his shoulder.

"You know what?" he finally says, turning a bit and sliding his hands under my thighs to lift me onto his lap. "I like this a lot better."

His arms wrap around my hips and knees, holding me close. I lean my head against his shoulder, my nose brushing against his throat, a position we find ourselves in often. Be it while watching tv or just hanging out, he likes having me close.

And I’m not mad at it, because I really like being close to him. It’s a win-win in my book.

"Yeah, I like this fine too," I admit, my fingers curling into his shirt. Suddenly, the gondola lurches slightly, and I feel it begin to move.

"Are we starting?" Jackson asks, and both of us glance outside as the gondola slowly lifts off the ground.

The higher we go, I realize it’s already later than I’d thought. From the ground, it seemed like it was still completely dark, but now I can see the first hints of a sunrise peeking over London’s buildings in the distance. A lovely orange tint spreads over the city, bathing it in soft morning light.

"It’s beautiful," I whisper, leaning my forehead against Jackson’s shoulder.

"It is," he whispers back, hugging me tightly.

"Thank you," I whisper, freeing my arm to push one of his stubborn curls behind his ear. My hand settles on his cheek, where I feel the faintest hint of stubble under my palm. "This is the best anniversary present you could’ve given me. I bet mine’s going to pale in comparison."

"I don’t give a fuck," he says earnestly, grabbing my chin between his thumb and index finger to tilt my face toward his. "You’re my winning prize, Lexie. I couldn’t care less about presents as long as I’ve got you."

A warmth spreads through my chest, and I can’t help but press my lips to his again. The realization settles in my gut like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

He’s the one.

The thought pops into my head with absolute certainty.

He’s it.

And the day he gives me the ring I know he’s hiding in his sock drawer but pretend I’ve never seen is going to be the happiest day of my life.

"I love you," I admit softly, and his arms around me tighten.

"I love you too, Firecracker," he says, his voice filled with sincerity, and I tear up, emotions trying to find a way to break free.

It took us some detours to get here, but damnit if they weren’t worth it.