CHAPTER 27
M allory wasn’t sure what she expected when she arrived at Beckett’s house. When she pulled up and saw Evan’s car, she feared her brother had gone all macho man again and was pummeling Beckett into steak tartar. Never mind the fact that Beckett was able to hold his own, she knew he’d lay down and take whatever punishment Evan doled out. Fortunately, that wasn’t the case. Both men appeared to be intact—Mallory could only hope that sentiment continued with her heart when she and Beckett were done talking.
And talking was what they should be doing, not hiking through the orchards as the sun set. Granted, she wasn’t really upset. This was one of her favorite places, and being out here with Beckett felt right. Her left hand clung to his as he led the way through rows of trees. It was harvest time, so the scent of ripe apples permeated the air around them. The song of a few insects kept tempo with her racing heart as Beckett finally got to a familiar clearing.
“This is my favorite place to watch the sun set,” Beckett announced when they reached the top of the trail. He spun her around to face the sun, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her against his frame. Resting his chin on top of her head, he let out a contented sigh. “This is my favorite place for other reasons,” he said, his arms tightening slightly around her waist.
“Oh, yeah?” she asked, breathless. Was it possible Beckett still thought about that sunny afternoon nearly fifteen years ago? Did he still think about the magic of the moment, of the wind in the trees and their adolescent racing hearts?
“Yeah.” Beckett nuzzled closer, peppering her neck with kisses. Her skin pebbled with goosebumps as he trailed kisses into the neckline of his hoodie. “I’m regretting bundling you up,” he teased, nipping at the skin of her earlobe.
Mallory was about to strip down to her skivvies if this continued, but she didn’t want to ruin the moment with her own lust. Instead, she asked, “Why is this your favorite place?”
For a second, Beckett was contemplative. She felt his slow inhales and exhales while they watched the sun disappear behind a row of trees. The sky was streaked with pinks and purples, the color scheme of her childhood. “This is my favorite place because it holds all my favorite memories.”
Mallory’s breath hitched, but she didn’t interrupt. “Gram used to take me up here to pick apples before the crew got harvesting. We’d fill as many bushels as we could carry and bring them back to the house. She’d bake pies, cupcakes, and fry up those little apple fritters. Gosh, I miss those.”
Mallory’s stomach growled at the memory of the crispy, sweet dough balls. Beckett’s Gram could bake better than anyone she’d ever met—except for maybe CeCe. “I remember the apple sauce she’d can and send home with me and Ev.”
“That was good, too.” Beckett hummed, his arms still holding Mallory close.
“What other memories do you have up here?” she asked, unwilling to drop this line of conversation.
“I remember Gramps taking me up here too, and we’d walk the grounds and track the trees for harvest. Sometimes we’d bring the goats and sheep up here and they’d run around like absolute idiots.” He chuckled at the private memory, and her heart ached for him. His grandfather was the most important role model and ally Beckett had, and she hated that the sweet old man was gone. Although she did pull comfort from knowing he was reunited with his beloved wife.
Leaning back into Beckett’s embrace, Mallory reveled in his nearness. Despite Evan knowing the truth, a small part of her feared Beckett would disappear if she didn’t hold tight. He sometimes felt as ethereal as the morning fog.
“My favorite memory here,” Beckett continued, oblivious to her inner turmoil, “was almost fifteen years ago.”
Mallory’s heart thundered in her chest, begging him to confirm her own favorite memories on this hill. “Oh, yeah?”
Beckett spun her around until they faced each other. Even in the fading twilight, she could make out his expression. His gray eyes gleamed behind his crooked glasses, and his smile was certain and bright. “Yeah,” he confirmed, drawing his hands up to cup her face. He kissed her, too quickly for Mallory’s taste, before stepping back.
“I know we were only kids,” he started, shoving his hands in his pockets, “but marrying you up on this hill was one of the best days of my life.”
Mallory felt foolish parroting his own statements back to him, but she couldn’t find her own words. “Best days of your life?”
“Of course. I shared my first kiss with my favorite person.” He shrugged, like the admission didn’t cost a lot, like it wasn’t costing her the same high price. If Beckett didn’t realize what he was doing with his words, he threatened to hurt her worse than ever before. “I replay that day in my head on repeat, Mallory. Especially on my darker days, as it’s the only thing that makes me smile.” His thumb swept over her cheek, catching a tear she didn’t realize was falling. “I made some pretty bold promises for a preteen.” He chuckled. “And I know my vows have been broken over the years.” A flush crept up his neck at the admission, but he soldiered on. “But I’m ready to commit again if you are. This time forever.”
Knees wobbling, Mallory clutched Beckett’s shoulders for support. “Beckett, what are you saying?”
Deep in her heart, she knew what he said was genuine, knew he wouldn’t break her heart again. But suddenly it seemed too good to be true. Her brother knew the truth, and Beckett was done hiding his feelings. Could it really be that simple?
Stepping back, Beckett shoved his hand back into his jeans before retrieving a very familiar black box. Slowly, he lowered himself down on one knee and opened the box. The ruby glinted up at her, winking the promise of a happily ever after. “Mallory Lawson, you are an amazing woman, my best friend.” He shook his head and quietly added, “Don’t tell Evan.”
Unable to hold back, Mallory snorted and rolled her eyes. “Get back to the Mallory portion of the Lawson lovefest, please.” She squeezed his hand, and Beckett laughed.
“Yes, ma’am.” Beckett took the ring out of the box and slid it onto her ring finger. The band fit like it was made for her, sliding into place perfectly. “Mallory, I’ve been in love with you for decades, and I’d love to spend the rest of my life proving that love to you. I want to make you French bread pizzas every day, I want to build pillow forts in the farm house with you, I want to raise our kids here, and I want to grow old with you here. I want our future to be bright and filled with love.” His gray eyes found hers, and she could have drowned in the moody pools. “Will you marry me?”
Mallory’s knees finally gave out and she fell to the ground in front of him. This was the most perfect proposal a girl could ask for and from the perfect man. “Yes,” she said, unable to stop the smile from engulfing her face. “Yes, Beckett.” Just as she was about to pull him in for a kiss, she looked down at Nana’s ring on her finger. “How did you get this?”
Beckett shook his head and tilted her face up toward his. “I’ll explain everything later, but I kind of want to kiss you. A lot.”
“Fair enough.” Mallory tugged Beckett closer by his collar, and their lips collided.
The pair had shared countless kisses over the years, but none like this one. This one felt shiny and new, filled with hope and the promise of forever.