CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Jovana
“That was”—I paused to rub my stomach over my dress—“literally incredible. One of the best dinners I’ve ever had in my life.” I glanced around the dining room of the restaurant, taking in the stunning decor, which was something I’d done multiple times since we’d sat down for dinner. “It’s just amazing here. The food. Atmosphere.” I smiled as I looked at Grayson. “You.”
“I’m glad you had a good time.” He held the base of his vodka, turning it just enough that the ice rattled. “I’ve only been here once before, and I’ve been waiting for the right time to come back.”
“And you chose to do that with me.” I rested my arms on the table. “You’re sweet.”
He laughed, a sound that was quick and almost spicy. “I’m not sweet, Jovana. Not a single ounce of me is.”
“I disagree.”
“Yeah?”
When I nodded, a piece of hair fell into my face, and I tucked it behind my ear. “You offered Red Sox tickets to my dad, and you had lunch delivered to the condo twice this week because you knew I was so busy filming, I’d probably forget to eat. And you posted a picture on Instagram last night of me asleep in your arms that was completely melt-worthy. So, I’m sorry, but you’re wicked sweet.”
“Shit, then you’re really going to love this.” He pointed with his eyes to a spot over my shoulder, causing me to turn around to where a chef was coming toward our table with a giant, oversize plate in her hand.
“Grayson, it’s nice to officially meet you,” she said as she set the plate between Grayson and me. “I took all of your suggestions into consideration, and I made my own spin.” She grinned. “I hope you enjoy the dessert sampler.”
“I appreciate it, chef.”
“My pleasure.”
Once she was gone, my hand went to my chest, holding my heart as I said, “Wait a sec. You called the restaurant and had the pastry chef make us this?” There had to be at least fifteen desserts on the plate. All were small, enough for two to three bites, but the amount of effort was extraordinary.
“I didn’t just want a massive piece of strawberry cheesecake or a slice of peanut butter mud pie, which was what I saw when I viewed their dessert menu. That’s too much. So, yes, I called the chef, and we chatted about some options, and this is what she came up with.”
“A sampler.”
“Was it a little birdie who mentioned she wanted one ... I can’t recall.” His stare grew more intense. So did his smile. “It’s the best of everything, Jovana. Like you.”
I gazed at him in amazement.
And while I took him in, I couldn’t help but compare this version of Grayson to the one I had originally met at the bar and the one who had sat with me while I’d signed our marriage contract.
How much he’d changed.
How our relationship had grown.
How his attitude had simmered.
And out of nowhere, a pang of guilt began to break through my chest.
Did I deserve this man?
The alphahole who I had somehow tamed, no longer constantly battling me or finding things to tear into me about.
There was a kindness to him now. A patience that I saw during the most unexpected moments, like the day I’d brought him to meet my family.
I loved both versions.
I didn’t doubt that.
I just wished that feeling weren’t eating at the skin above my heart.
“Grayson ...” I felt my cheeks redden as I looked at him. “I’m wild for you.” I took a breath. “Completely and madly ... wild.”
He stabbed his bottom lip with his teeth, slowly loosening the grip until his mouth was free. “How about some champagne to toast to how wild you are?”
Before I could respond, our waiter was at our table, holding a standing bucket where the champagne was sitting in ice. He lifted the bottle and poured some into two flutes that he placed in front of us.
Once he was gone, Grayson lifted his glass.
“To us.” I smiled.
“That’s the best you’ve got?” His expression couldn’t possibly be any sexier.
“Sometimes it doesn’t take more than two words—or even three—to make an impact.”
Even though I felt those three words, I wasn’t going to voice them.
Grayson wasn’t ready to hear them yet.
“How about to a future that’s long and ...” His voice drifted off, but his expression remained intact, as did his stare, which was looking right through me. “Everything we want it to be.”
“Mmm. I like that.” I clinked my glass against his and took a sip.
“You need to dig in.” He ran his hand over his beard before he pointed at a dessert that was somewhat toward the middle. “That one I requested just for you.”
I lifted my fork. “I honestly don’t know how I’m going to eat another bite, but I’ll try.” Before I stuck the metal teeth into the dessert, I asked, “Why did you request that one for me?”
“I know how much you like strawberries.”
I put them in my yogurt every morning for breakfast, and it was the flavor of ice cream I kept in the freezer. I wasn’t sure he was into that kind of detail.
But I had to ask.
“And why do you think that?”
He leaned his arms on the table, teasing the edge of something chocolate with his spoon. “Come on, Jovana. You’re not doubting me, are you?” He waited for a response. All I did was smile. “I’ve looked at the same foods in my fridge for years now. You think I wouldn’t catch on when two new pints of strawberries appear each week or see the pink bowl of ice cream you eat every night before bed?”
My smile grew, spreading as wide as it would go.
“I notice everything about you—whether you think I do or not.”
“I love that.” I dipped my fork into the dessert, and I was immediately hit with the tartness of the fruit, followed by the creaminess of some type of cheese, all of it surrounded by a flaky, almost nutty shell. “Wow.”
“It’s good?”
“It’s more than good.” I took in another mouthful. “I could eat this every day for the rest of my life.” I knew I had only a few more bites left in me, so I moved on, tasting a layered cake that had different hints of coffee flavor. “Can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
“When was the exact moment when it hit you that you wanted more to happen between us?”
He took a drink of his champagne. “What makes you think it was a moment and not a series of moments?”
“Well, it could have been, but I think at some point, something went off in your head and you went from ‘Oh fuck, I want this girl’ to ‘Oh fuck, I think I want more with this girl.’”
“Is that your way of imitating me?” His grin was pure fire.
“How’d I do?”
He chuckled. “You did pretty well, actually.” He set his fork down after he finished chewing. “I think there were plenty of moments, if I’m being honest. Whether I wanted to admit they were moments at the time ... that’s a different story. But I think it started during the photo shoot, when I looked at your phone and saw all those messages from those dudes.”
“You felt threatened.”
“No.” His response came out quick, the word harsh as it left his lips. “Territorial. That’s how I felt.”
“Ahhh.”
He leaned forward to get even closer. “I didn’t want them creeping on what’s mine.”
“Yours.” My brows lifted.
He nodded. “I didn’t like the thought that they were getting your attention.”
“But so were you.” I twisted the stem of the glass. “Every bit of it.”
“I didn’t see it that way.” He drained the rest of his flute. “I still don’t, but I know I’m going to have to share you with your followers. That’s part of who you are. I can’t change that.”
“Would you want to?”
He was silent for a moment. “No. And you want to know why?” He wiped his mouth with his napkin and called the waiter over, handing him his credit card. “When we were at your parents’ place, after I’d asked your dad for his permission to marry you and we’d returned to the living room, he brought up one of the TikToks he’d recently seen you in, and how proud he was of you. Your mom too. She had the biggest smile on her face.” He returned the napkin to his lap and mashed his lips together. “I know what it’s like to do something a little out of the norm and build it from scratch. Shit isn’t easy. And not everyone recognizes that, nor do they understand what it takes to get where you are. The fact that your parents do, that they acknowledge your hard work and your successes—that’s something not everyone can appreciate. But I do and I’d never take that away from you.”
I’d known before.
I’d felt it.
It was in my chest, trumping the guilt.
But this was the moment that the feeling was solidified.
This was the memory that I’d think of whenever I wanted to answer the question: When did you know you’d fallen in love with Grayson?
“The most heartfelt, emotional answer you could have ever given me,” I whispered.
He reached across the table, putting his hand on top of mine. “We come from different towns, different family dynamics, but you and I—we have a lot in common.”
“I’ve always thought that.”
“And I’ve always believed it.”
The waiter returned and Grayson signed his name across the bottom of the bill. “Would you mind bagging up all this dessert?” he asked the waiter. “My driver will be right outside. It would be great if you could bring it to him.” He nodded toward me. “I’m going to take this one for a little walk.”
“I’d be happy to,” the waiter replied.
Grayson stood and took me by the hand and led me out of the restaurant. He glanced down the moment we hit the sidewalk outside and said, “How comfortable are those?”
I followed his stare, realizing he was inquiring about my heels. “I mean, I wouldn’t run a mile in them.”
“But you can walk?”
I laughed. “Yes, I can walk.”
“Then come with me.” He linked our hands and led us down the sidewalk.
The Seaport District was a busy area of the city, surrounded by skyscrapers along each side of the water, and the lights from the buildings reflected off the harbor, creating a romantic glow.
The Back Bay had become home, and Grayson’s condo was gorgeous and everything I could possibly want, but I could see myself, one day, living here.
Compared to our neighborhood, the crowd was slightly younger, the beat a little livelier.
It was as though they took everyone’s taste in music and entertainment and restaurants and made sure it fit all our needs.
It certainly fit mine.
“I love this area.”
He pulled my hand up to his mouth. “What do you love about it?”
“The water. It’s so calm and pretty.” I pointed at a residential building up ahead. “Can you picture yourself sitting on that balcony, sipping your coffee every morning? Eating dinner out there on the warmer nights? And going for walks along the water when you actually let me drag you out?”
He laughed. “What if I could make that a reality?”
“What do you mean?”
After a few more paces, he stopped us directly in front of the harbor where only a thin block of cement separated us from the water, but this was the spot that had the best view. The lights across from us were gold, the buildings navy, the current shimmering like tiny crystals.
Grayson stood behind me, his arms circling around my stomach, his face near my neck. “Do you see that bit of construction to your left?”
I followed the waterline, halting at the foundation that was just starting to take shape. “Yes.”
“I met with the builder a few weeks ago to discuss his ideas for the penthouse. Since it’s preconstruction, I can make any changes I want to the current design, which is something I’m interested in because I can customize it the way I want. I’ve been going back and forth over whether I should keep it as an investment or move into it. But if this is where you want to live ...”
As I faced him, a breeze blew past us, and a chill ran through me, enough that I shivered. While my hands wrapped around him, he pulled me against his body.
More sweetness.
I searched his eyes. “Are you saying you would move here with me?”
“Yes.”
I knew how much the rent was in this area. Sloane and I had looked it up before moving to Somerville, and it was thousands past our budget. Therefore, I could only imagine how much it cost to buy.
“But I wouldn’t be able to afford a mortgage around here, especially a penthouse.”
“What would make you think you’d have to?” He held me tighter. “I wouldn’t want you to pay half, Jovana. Hell, I wouldn’t want you to pay anything, nor would I let you.”
“That isn’t really fair to you.”
His hands moved to my face, holding my cheeks. “We’re going to be married ... don’t forget that.” He slowly kissed me. “What’s mine is technically yours.”
He had a point—something I hadn’t thought of.
And there would be a prenup involved that would protect him if we got divorced.
But still, despite how well I was doing, I felt like it wasn’t nearly enough to afford the type of home he wanted.
Before I could say anything, he continued, “Do you recognize this spot?”
I was so deep in my thoughts and his stare that I had to actually pull myself out, gazing to my right, and then left.
As soon as I connected to the bridge and the rainbow lights and back to the water, I gasped. “Yes.” I returned to his face. “This is where I took the photograph—where we both did, actually. The one that we love.”
“Your favorite spot in the Seaport.”
I nodded. “Yes. It is.”
“And you would be living about twenty yards that way.” He nodded toward the building’s foundation. “With a balcony that would wrap around the whole top floor, giving you not only a full view of the entire city, but a direct line of sight to this very spot.”
My head shook. I could feel it. I couldn’t stop it. “Unbelievable.”
“You know what would make this spot even more special?”
I felt my head tilt back when I laughed. “I don’t think that’s possible. You’ve covered every angle here.”
“All but one.”
He reached inside his jacket and pulled out a box.
It was small.
Black.
Velvet.
Oh my God.
Once he opened it, he stepped back just a few feet from me, and he knelt on one knee. “Jovana Winters ...”
My hands shook.
My knees felt weak.
My fingers flew to my face, pressing against my mouth while I stared at him in awe.
“I know we haven’t known each other for long and I know there’s still so much to learn about one another. But in the time that you’ve been in my life, you’ve completely amazed me. You’re the most breathtaking woman I’ve ever met. The inside of you is as beautiful as the outside. And every day we spend together, I find myself wanting to hold you closer. Wanting to touch you more. Wanting to wake up with my arms around you.”
My heart pounded in a way I could feel in my chest.
My eyes were watering, making the background look blurry, the lights all blending into thin white lines.
He turned the box toward me, and the first drip fell down my cheek.
“This ring isn’t just for you—it’s a piece of me. Of what I was—of what I am. Of what we are together.” He took it out of the box and held out his hand.
My left hand dropped from my mouth, and he captured it, holding the diamond in front of my ring finger.
The only thing I saw through my tears was a shiny, gorgeous blob.
“Jovana,” he said again, “will you be my wife?”
I nodded, the movement unleashing the rest of my tears. “Yes. Of course I will.”
I didn’t let him stand.
Because I wanted him to know that we were in this together.
As equals.
So I got on my knees, the roughness of the pavement piercing my soft skin, and once he slid the ring on my finger, I threw my arms around his neck and held him as close as I could get him.
I squeezed.
I inhaled the air that was so full of his scent.
And I thought of the words he’d just spoken.
They hit me.
Hard.
Nothing about us was traditional. Neither was this moment, and how he’d never once told me he loved me.
But it was enough.
And it was our kind of perfect.
“I didn’t know you were asking me tonight,” I whispered, clutching him with all my strength.
“I wanted it to be a surprise.”