Chapter Forty-Three
Evan
The front door clicked shut behind us, and the house seemed to let out a long, slow exhale in the same way it always did when we finally came home together.
Firelight flickered low in the hearth, casting long, dancing shadows across the half-unpacked boxes and the wide-plank floors we had sanded ourselves until our backs ached.
Nora’s laugh was still soft in my ear, a breathless and disbelieving sound. “They knew we were going to ask each other and they said nothing.”
“A true testament to how much they care.” I pulled her against me right there in the entryway with our coats still on, her cold nose pressing into the hollow of my throat. I wrapped my arms around her, holding her so tight I could feel the frantic, happy thud of her heart against my chest.
“You really had the ring in your pocket the whole time,” I murmured into her hair.
“And you had yours.” She tilted her head back, her eyes brilliant even in the dim light of the foyer. “We’re officially the most ridiculous people in Firebrook Valley.”
“Perfectly ridiculous,” I corrected, and then I kissed her.
It wasn’t the desperate, adrenaline-fueled kiss from the mountain, or the public claim from the gazebo.
This was slow and deep. It was the kiss of a man who realized he never had to say goodbye again.
We had forever, and I wasn’t in a hurry to get to the next meeting or the next milestone.
I just wanted to be right here, in the dark, with her.
We shed our coats and kicked off our shoes into a messy pile, the first of many un-billionaire habits we were forming.
Nora tugged me toward the couch, straddling my lap before I could even sit back.
Her fingers threaded into the hair at the nape of my neck, pulling me close until our foreheads touched.
“I was so nervous about asking you,” she whispered.
I slid my hands under the hem of her soft sweater, my palms finding the warm, silken skin of her back. “There wasn’t a reason to be. We have been circling this since we were children, Nora. The universe finally got tired of waiting for us to catch up and pushed us together.”
I lifted her easily. She fit against me perfectly. I carried her up the stairs. She kept her legs wrapped around my waist with her chin resting on my shoulder.
Our bed was covered with the new charcoal-gray sheets we had chosen. She had insisted they matched the sky after a summer rain, and as usual, she was right.
I set her down gently, though we both knew she wasn’t a fragile thing.
We undressed each other with the slow, deliberate care of people who knew every inch of the map but wanted to savor the journey.
Her sweater came off first, her arms lifting gracefully.
I stopped to kiss the curve of her collarbone, lingering where her pulse fluttered like a trapped bird.
She unbuttoned my shirt one button at a time with her fingertips grazing my skin, pausing to trace the faint, silver scar under my ribs from the summer I had fallen out of the oak tree trying to impress her. Not that I’d have ever admitted back then to caring what she thought about me.
“I love that you still have this,” I murmured, my thumb sliding over the worn, braided band on her wrist.
“I’ll never take it off, Evan.” She met my eyes, her gaze raw and honest. “And if it dares to ever wear too thin, I’ll just have you make me another one.”
“I’ll make you as many as you want for the rest of our lives.” I kissed her, deep and slow.
Under the heavy quilt, her skin was a miracle of warmth and softness.
I mapped her with my mouth, every freckle I had memorized, every sensitive curve that when I caressed, made her sigh my name.
She did the same, her hands tracing the line of my jaw and the breadth of my shoulders, learning me all over again now that I was fully hers.
When I settled between her thighs, she wrapped her legs around me with her hands framing my face. We didn’t close our eyes. There was no need to hide anymore.
“I meant everything I said out there,” I said quietly. “But this is the part I needed most. Just you. Just us. You’re going to be my wife,” I said, my voice sounding like it had been dragged over the mountain trails.
Her smile trembled, beautiful and bright. “And you’re going to be my husband. Through the sunshine and the storms, Evan. Every single day.”
I slid into her slowly, the sensation so profound it felt like a vow kept. She arched into me, her breath catching and her fingers digging into my shoulders, not to pull me faster but simply to anchor herself to the moment.
We moved in that quiet, perfect rhythm we had discovered, matched breathing and the way her hips rose to meet mine as if they were coming home. Between the kisses, the words came easily, whispered secrets you only tell your best friend.
“I’ve got you,” I whispered against her temple. “Always,” she answered, her voice soft and wrecked. “Forever starts tonight, Nora.”
She let out a small, breathless laugh that turned into a sigh as I moved deeper. “We’re so cheesy.”
“The best kind of cheese,” I said, nipping the corner of her mouth. “The kind that leaves you wanting seconds.”
My elbow bumped lightly against the headboard, and we both laughed, soft and breathless, as if we were still figuring each other out even after all this time.
The build was like the tide, slow, relentless, and inevitable.
When she finally tightened around me with her face hidden in the crook of my neck, I held her through it, murmuring her name like a prayer I had finally been allowed to say out loud.
She pulled me over the edge with her, a quiet, shared release that felt like a long-held breath finally being let go.
Afterward, we stayed tangled together. The sheets were cool against our skin, but the warmth between us was absolute.
I kept my arm banded around her waist with her cheek pillowed on my chest, listening as our heartbeats gradually began to sync.
Her fingers threaded through mine, our rings pressing together between us.
They were warm now, as if they already belonged there.
She traced lazy, absent circles over the gold band on my finger with her thumb. “This is real,” she whispered into the silence.
“It always was.” I kissed the top of her head. “We only needed time to grow into it.”
“A double proposal.” She laughed softly, the sound muffled by my skin. “Kai is probably still editing that video. He is going to make us watch it at the wedding, isn’t he?”
“Let him. He dreams of being this happy.”
She lifted her head, her eyes shining in the dim light. “I know I always did.”
“Me too,” I said, pulling her closer. “Crazy that I had to leave before I could figure out that everything I have ever wanted was right here.”
Her fingers found mine again, our rings clinking softly in the dark. “Crazy that you thought I could ever love anyone but you.”
I growled into her neck. “Let us keep it that way.”
She settled back against me, her leg hooked over mine in that way that always made me feel like the luckiest man alive. I kept stroking her back in slow, rhythmic sweeps until her breathing evened out into the deep, quiet rhythm of sleep.
I lay awake watching her, grateful for all of this. This was home. She was home. Best friends, lovers, and a future. All of it, finally said out loud.