Chapter 31
CHAPTER
THIRTY-ONE
TESSA
Itwist a piece of my hair and pin it back with a bobby pin, putting the final touches on my hairdo. The rest hangs in long waves down my back. I apply some blush for a finished look and step back from the mirror.
Beatrice purrs against my ankles, doing figure eights around my feet, letting out pathetic little meows.
“I know, sweetie,” I tell her, crouching down to scratch behind her ears. “I wish you could come with us, but Daddy says no. He says you won’t like the backpack.”
I have to admit, I want to bring her at some point just to put her in that cat backpack Logan bought—the one with the plastic dome window. She’d look like a little kitty astronaut with her smushed face pressed against the plexiglass. It would be adorable.
I look back down at her. “Don’t worry, we’re only going to be gone a couple of hours.”
Logan hasn’t told me where we’re going. I’m assuming dinner since he just told me to “dress to impress,” and that’s what I did. My feet already ache from the high black heels, but they look amazing with the tight, strapless black cocktail dress I’m wearing.
Logan opens the bedroom door a crack and peeks in. “Hey, you ready?”
“I am.” I smooth my hands along my waist, suddenly nervous.
His eyes travel slowly down my body and back up. “Wow. You look amazing.”
“Thank you.” Heat rises in my cheeks. “You do too.”
And he does. Black pants, black button-up shirt, sleeves rolled to his forearms. He looks unfairly handsome.
We head out to the SUV, and he doesn’t give me any hints about where we’re going. Surprising me has become his new favorite pastime, and honestly, I’m all for it.
The spot next to the elevator where Cole or Jack usually stood is empty.
I pause for a moment, struck by the absence. For months, one of them was always there—arms crossed, eyes scanning, a quiet and constant presence. Now that Preston is officially behind bars serving his sentence, my bodyguards have moved on to their next assignment.
We became friends during their time here. I actually miss them, though I’m glad I no longer need them. Whoever they’re protecting now, I know they’re doing an incredible job.
Logan helps me into the SUV and closes the door behind me. Walking around the back of the vehicle, he opens the driver’s side door and gets in. He flashes me a handsome smile as we pull out of the garage.
Eventually, we pull onto a narrow road that winds through the woods, parking in a small, cleared spot. I look around. There’s nothing in sight besides trees and the sound of running water somewhere nearby.
“Okay,” I say to him. “I’m intrigued.”
He smiles and gets out, coming around to my side to help me down. The heels weren’t made for unpaved parking lots. He takes my hand, lacing our fingers together, and leads me down a pathway through beautiful green foliage.
When the trees break, we step into a clearing beside a river, and I gasp.
It’s gorgeous.
In the center of the clearing is a gazebo covered in what must be thousands of flowers—roses, peonies, hydrangeas, all vibrant and lush. In the middle of the gazebo sits a table draped in white linen, candles flickering in the fading sunlight, silver domes covering what I assume is our dinner.
The whole thing is absolutely stunning. The flowers, the candles, the gazebo framed by the river and the woods surrounding us—it looks like a scene straight out of a movie.
“I can’t believe this,” I breathe. “This is so pretty. This is where we’re eating dinner?”
“We are.” Logan watches my reaction, clearly pleased with himself.
“Who owns this place?”
“A friend,” he says with a smile.
I’ve learned while hanging out with professional hockey players that they have a lot of friends who do them a lot of favors. Definite perk to the job.
“Oh my gosh, Logan.” We walk toward the gazebo, my heels sinking slightly into the soft grass. “This is simply stunning. I can’t believe it. It’s one of the most romantic things I’ve ever seen.”
We stop before we reach the table, beneath an archway absolutely dripping with flowers. He turns to face me, and something in his expression makes my breath catch.
“Before we eat,” he says, his voice slightly unsteady, “I wanted to ask you your question of the day.”
“Oh.” I swallow, suddenly aware of how nervous he seems.
He drops to one knee.
My heart stops.
He pulls out a small velvet box and opens it, revealing a beautiful, elegant diamond ring. I don’t get a good look at it because my eyes immediately fill with tears.
I cover my mouth, blinking rapidly, trying to see through the blur.
“Tessa,” he says, looking up at me, “I know we haven’t been together long, and I know this is quick.
And trust me when I say we can have whatever length of engagement you want.
There’s no rush to get married. But I want you to have this ring because I want you to know that someday, I hope you’ll be my wife. ”
Tears spill down my cheeks.
“There is no one in this world who will make me happier,” he continues. “You were right—I fell instantly in love with you from the very first moment I saw you. I didn’t know a love like this could exist. And now that I have you in my life, I don’t ever want to know what it’s like to not have you.”
His voice cracks slightly, and I’m crying harder now, happy tears streaming down my face.
“So, Tessa Marlowe—the most beautiful, kind, sweet, loving, funny, adorable person in the whole world—someday in the near or the distant future, will you marry me?”
I laugh through my tears, nodding before I can even get the words out. “Oh my gosh, Logan. Yes. Yes, I will marry you.”
I don’t even have to think about the question. I can’t imagine a second of my life without the man kneeling before me. In my heart, he was already mine forever, and I was his. With or without a ring, I was going nowhere unless he was by my side.
He slides the ring onto my finger, his hands trembling slightly, and I blink away tears, trying to get a good look at it. It’s stunning—a round diamond in a delicate setting that catches the light from the candles and the setting sun.
“It’s so pretty,” I whisper.
“I’m glad you like it.” He stands, his eyes locked on mine.
And then he pulls me into a kiss.
It’s slow at first, tender and reverent, like he’s sealing a promise. His hands come up to cradle my face, thumbs brushing away the tears still falling. I melt into him, my arms wrapping around his neck, pulling him closer.
The kiss deepens, becoming more urgent, more desperate—like we’re trying to pour every unsaid word, every overwhelming emotion into this one moment. He tastes like mint and hope and forever, and I never want it to end.
One of his hands slides into my hair, careful not to mess up the pins, and the other wraps around my waist, holding me against him like he’s afraid I might disappear. I rise on my toes, needing to be closer, needing to feel all of him.
When we finally break apart, we’re both breathing hard, foreheads pressed together, the world around us forgotten.
“Are we crazy?” he asks, his voice rough. “We’ve known each other for three months.”
I shake my head, smiling through the last of my tears. “I feel like I’ve been waiting for you my whole life.”
“Me too,” he agrees, brushing his thumb across my cheek. “But it wasn’t until I saw you that day at the signing that I realized what I’d been waiting for.” He grins, that wide, beautiful smile that makes my heart skip.
He kisses me again, softer this time, sweeter, and I realize that this—right here, right now, in this flower-covered gazebo by the river—is the moment everything changes.
This is the moment my past ceases to hurt me because it led me to my future.
A future with him.
Forever.