CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
Ruben
The terrace is quiet, save for the faint sound of the waves crashing against the shore in the distance. The sun has dipped below the horizon, leaving behind streaks of soft purple and deep blue in the sky. A light breeze carries the salty tang of the ocean, but my focus isn’t on any of that.
It’s on her.
Lennon stands a few feet away, her arms hugging her slim body tightly. She’s breathtaking. The dim light casts a soft glow on her skin, and the way her hair catches the breeze makes my chest tighten.
I take a deep breath, letting the moment settle. This is it.
In front of her, the terrace has been transformed. The hotel helped me to make the arrangements. What seems like a thousand candles flicker in the evening light, their glow casting a warm, golden hue over everything. Red roses are everywhere—spilling from elegant vases, scattered delicately across the table, and gathered into lush bouquets placed strategically around the space. At the far end of the terrace, bold letters spell out the words MARRY ME .
The sight is… a lot. Big, bold, and undeniably romantic. It’s exactly what I wanted for her—a moment she’ll never forget.
But as I watch her, a pang of nerves shoots through me. What if I’m rushing this? What if…
She turns then, her lips parting as her eyes take in the scene. Her gaze darts from the candles to the roses, then to the letters. For a moment, she’s completely still, her expression caught somewhere between shock and wonder.
“Oh my God,” she whispers, her voice barely audible.
That’s my cue.
I step closer, my heartbeat hammering in my chest like a damn drumline. She turns to face me fully, her wide eyes locking onto mine. I see everything there—surprise, elation, and something that steadies me: love.
“Lennon,” I say, my voice steady despite the storm inside me.
Her lips tremble as she whispers, “Ruben…”
I drop to one knee, the world narrowing until it’s just us. The velvet box feels solid in my hand as I open it, revealing the ring inside. It’s vintage, intricate, and perfect for her.
Her hands fly to her mouth, her eyes glistening with unshed tears.
“Would you marry me?” I ask, my voice low but deliberate.
For a second, everything is silent—the waves, the breeze, the candles. It’s like the universe itself is holding its breath.
And then she moves, her hands dropping as she whispers, “Oh my God. Ruben…”
Her voice breaks on my name, and it’s all the answer I need.
But I stay there, waiting for the words. I need to hear them.
“Yes,” she finally says, her voice stronger this time. “Yes, of course I will. Yes, yes!”
Relief crashes over me, leaving me breathless. I slip the ring onto her finger, and it fits like it was made for her.
When I stand, pulling her into my arms, she’s laughing through her tears, her face tilted up toward mine. I brush my thumb over her cheek, catching a stray tear, and then I kiss her.
It’s soft at first, just a gentle press of our lips. But then she’s clutching the front of my shirt, pulling me closer, and the kiss deepens. It’s everything—love, passion, and the promise of forever wrapped up in one perfect moment.
When we finally break apart, she presses her forehead to mine, her breath warm against my skin.
“You planned all this?” she asks, her voice a mix of awe and disbelief.
I grin, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “What can I say? When I know, I know.”
She laughs, a soft, musical sound that makes my chest tighten.
“You’re unbelievable,” she says, her fingers tracing the line of my jaw.
“Only for you,” I reply, meaning every word.
Her eyes meet mine, wide and shimmering in the flickering candlelight, and I see everything—desire, love, a spark that threatens to consume us both.
I pull her closer, my hand sliding to the back of her neck as I crush my mouth to hers. The kiss is fierce, urgent, a clash of teeth and tongues as months of longing ignite into something neither of us can control.
“We don’t even have to make it inside,” I growl against her lips, my voice thick with want.
She laughs breathlessly, her hands already tugging at my shirt, her fingers grazing my skin and setting it on fire. “No, we don’t.”
My eyes flick to the blankets someone conveniently left on the floor, as though fate itself has paved the way for this moment. I reach for one, spreading it out in one smooth motion, and then my focus is entirely on her.
Lennon there, framed by candlelight, her hair wild and her lips swollen. I can’t take my eyes off her, the way her chest rises and falls with each breath, the way her hands tremble slightly as she starts to unbutton her dress.
“No,” I say, stepping forward and catching her wrists gently. “Let me.”
Her breath hitches as I take over, my fingers deftly working the buttons free one by one. With each inch of skin I reveal, I’m reminded of just how perfect she is. Her skin is soft under my hands, and when the dress finally slips from her shoulders and pools at her feet, I’m left speechless.
She’s wearing lace, white and delicate, the kind of lingerie that makes my pulse pound. The sight of her standing there, candlelight dancing across her curves, nearly undoes me.
“Christ, Lennon,” I murmur, stepping closer, my hands finding her waist. “You’re a goddamn work of art.”
She smiles, a mix of shyness and confidence, and it’s enough to drive me insane. “What are you waiting for, Big Boy?”
The invitation in her voice snaps whatever control I have left. My mouth finds hers again, and this time the kiss is deeper, hungrier. My hands explore her, tracing the curve of her back, the line of her hips, the softness of her thighs.
Her fingers are just as eager, tugging at my belt, my shirt, anything that separates us. Within moments, we’re skin to skin, the cool night air contrasting with the heat radiating between us.
We sink to the floor together, the blanket cushioning us as I lay her down. Her hair fans out around her like a dark halo, and the way she looks at me—like I’m the only man who’s ever existed—makes my chest tighten.
I take my time, kissing every inch of her I can reach, savoring the way she arches beneath me, the soft sounds she makes as my hands and mouth explore. She’s everything, soft and strong, tender and fierce. And I can’t get enough.
When I finally slide inside her, it’s like the world stops. Nothing else matters, just the way she feels, the way she gasps and wraps her legs around me, pulling me closer.
“Ruben,” she whispers, her voice trembling with emotion.
I bury my face in her neck, my breath ragged as I move with her, matching her rhythm, her need. Every brush of her skin against mine, every moan and whispered plea, ties us closer together.
And then it hits me, clear as the stars above us: this changes everything.
We belong to each other now. Completely. Forever.
“Mine,” I whisper against her lips, the word carrying all the weight of what I feel.
“Yours,” she replies, her hands threading through my hair, anchoring me to her.
Later, we are sitting on the plush outdoor couch, a bottle of champagne between us. She’s curled into my side, her head resting on my shoulder as I run my fingers through her hair. The night feels endless, like time has slowed just for us.
She looks up at me suddenly, her eyes soft but curious. “When did you decide?”
I chuckle, taking a sip of champagne before answering. “That you’re it for me? A long time ago.”
She smacks my chest lightly, rolling her eyes. “No, I mean when did you decide to do… all this?” She gestures vaguely to the terrace, the candles, the roses.
“Last week,” I admit. “Gabriel told me to check your Pinterest.”
Her laughter rings out, bright and full of life. “Wait, you did?”
“No,” I confess, grinning. “But it crossed my mind.”
She shakes her head, still laughing, and the sound warms something deep inside me.
“I didn’t need Pinterest,” I continue, my voice softening. “I just needed to think about you. What you’d want. What would make you happy.”
Her expression shifts, her laughter fading into something quieter, deeper. She leans up, pressing a soft kiss to my lips.
“You make me happy,” she whispers, her words brushing against my skin.
And in that moment, with the ocean stretching out before us and the woman I love in my arms, I know one thing for certain: I’d do it all again, every step, every moment of doubt just to hear her say yes.