Chapter Eleven
Olive
"What the fuck is that?" Jazz shouts, rushing around the counter with her eyes locked on my hand, her eyes wide. "Holy shit, Olive."
Sarah and Lilah both turn just in time to see her snatch my hand up, waving my ring around like a white flag.
"Holy shit," Sarah breathes. "You're getting married?"
"Um, surprise?" I squeak.
There's a heartbeat of silence, and then all three of them are on top of me, talking at once. Mason just watches from the doorway with a big grin on his face.
"This is your fault," I remind him.
"You love it."
I smile in response because he's not wrong.
This is the best fairytale, only it's better because it's mine.
I have no idea how I ended up here. There's no plausible way I should have ended up here after accusing him of being a serial killer and calling the police on him, and yet…
here I am. With his ring on my finger and his love bites all over me. Happier than I've ever been.
"When did this happen?" Sarah asks.
"Last night. I tried to cook him dinner, so he put a ring on my finger."
"Good choice," she says, grinning at him. "I'd totally marry her too if it meant getting her out of the kitchen."
"Rude!" I protest.
"You're the one who caught the stove on fire."
"That was one time."
She plants her hands on her hips, cocking a brow at me.
"Fine. It was four times, but three of them don't even count."
"I'm afraid to ask how you arrived at that conclusion, Rebel," Mason says, pushing away from the door to stride toward me.
"I was doing science."
"Making brownies isn't doing science, Olive," Sarah protests through laughter.
"It is if you don't know how to make brownies," I mutter.
Mason chuckles, scooping me up into his arms. "Come on, I have something for you."
"You do?" I blink at him, suspicious. "If it's the Serial Killer's Guide, I'm opting out."
"Just follow me," he says, smirking at me.
I shrug, following him across the store.
"It's in the back," Lilah calls to him.
"Thanks."
"Suspicious and suspicious-er," I mutter, but they just ignore me as he leads me around the counter.
"Close your eyes, Rebel."
"Is this the part where you tie me up?" I ask. "Because I might be down for that."
"Just close your eyes, smart ass."
I grin at him and then squeeze them closed. "Happy now?"
"With you? Every day."
I cling to his hand as he leads me into the back, navigating carefully so I don't trip or bump into the walls. Once he has me right where he wants me, he steps up behind me, wrapping his arms around me to tug me up against his chest.
"Open your eyes," he murmurs.
I blink them open…and then blink again when my gaze falls on the massive bouquet of books and flowers arranged on the worktable. "What…?"
"Lilah and Sarah have been helping me with it," he murmurs. "I've been discreetly buying copies of all your favorites to add to it since the third time I came here."
I spin to face him, my eyes wide. "What?"
He points at The Notebook.
"That's what you were doing with it?"
"Mmhmm." He grins at me. "Sarah told me that you loved it, so I wanted you to have it. The Princess Bride is in there, too. And Pride and Prejudice, Jane Eyre, and a few others." His lips quirk into a wicked grin. "I even added a few we can discuss in detail later."
I step forward, running my hand over the delicate petals of the flowers. "Why?" I breathe, awed at how much work he had to have put into this. The thing is massive. Literally every book I've ever loved peeks from behind rose petals.
"I want to give you the world and all the magic in it," he murmurs. "But books are your world. They're your magic. I figured this was the best place to start."
"Mason," I whisper, tears welling in my eyes.
"I intended to give it to you when I asked you to marry me, but the timeline got a little rearranged." He hooks an arm around my waist, resting his chin on my shoulder. "I like it better this way, Rebel. Now, you have two new memories to cherish instead of one."
I spin in his arms to face him. "I love you."
His smile is devastating. "I love you too, Olive. And I meant every word I said last night. I don't want to change you. You're exactly who the world needs you to be. And I'm the lucky motherfucker who gets to love you."
I fling my arms around him, pressing my face up against his throat. "I don't deserve you."
"That's where you're wrong," he murmurs, tipping my head back to brush his lips against mine. "You deserve the world. Starting right here, right now, I'm going to give it to you, Olive Medlock."
"You've been doing that all along," I sniffle, burrowing into him like I can merge us into one being, my lips against his. "Thank you for unloading boxes shirtless."
"Thanks for stealing your own mail."
"Anytime."
He chuckles against my lips, squeezing me tight, only to groan when my hand slips between us, brushing his cock. "What are you doing?"
"Preparing to discuss some of those other books in detail," I whisper, tugging his zipper down. "I thought I'd start with a demonstration."
"Jesus," he groans, his head falling back as I wrap my hand around his cock. "The whole store is going to hear us."
"Then you should be very, very quiet," I breathe, sinking to my knees in front of him, mischief in my gaze.
"Fuck," he whispers, already shaking as his hand sinks into my hair.
I just lean forward, my eyes locked with his, so goddamn happy my heart might burst.