Chapter 24
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
IAN
Even two months later, there’s still a niggle of unease every time Rose goes somewhere without me.
It shouldn’t. I know she’s more than capable of taking care of herself.
Every day she amazes me at how strong she is.
Facing the uncertainty of surgery, going through weeks of painful physical therapy, not knowing if it would end up the way she hoped.
Attending the twice-weekly therapy sessions that would leave her pale and pink-eyed.
The cautious ventures back into town, even when I told Rose she didn’t have to, because she didn’t want to let her fears control her.
After everything that happened, I wouldn’t have blamed her if she’d been bitter. Angry. Pushed people away. But not my Rose. She’s still happy and sweet and quietly funny, and everyone she meets ends up loving her.
Not like I love her, of course. Rose is everything to me. Which is why I still worry.
Even though the danger is over—Reed in jail, awaiting sentencing, Diem in a long-term counseling facility—it’s still hard to let go of the fear. It’s hard to forget the terror of discovering Rose gone, in trouble, and then that fucker Reed dragging her toward his van, seeing her hurt and bleeding…
The guilt has been hard to deal with, which is why I’ve gone to some therapy sessions myself. At first I didn’t want to, insisting that I wasn’t the one traumatized, but then Rose told me gently, “You were, Ian. What happened, it hurt you, too. And I think it’ll help both of us. I really do.”
How could I say no to that?
I’ll do anything to make her happy. Which brings me here. Waiting on the front porch for Rose to come home, excited and anxious and a bit sick to my stomach. And really hoping she likes the surprise I have for her.
It’s not a little thing, like flowers or another stuffed bunny or wine and cannolis. Or something slightly bigger, like the reading nook I created for her in the upstairs bedroom, complete with custom shelves and a cozy chair just like the one she bookmarked on the computer and a gift certificate to the local bookstore.
This surprise? It’s big. And while I think she’ll like it, I’m not one-hundred percent sure.
But it looks like I’m about to find out, because Hanna’s SUV is pulling into the driveway, and Rose is already grinning at me from the passenger seat.
As soon as Hanna pulls to a stop, Rose hugs her and I can hear through the open window, “Thank you so much, Hanna. It was awesome. I can’t wait to go back in the winter.”
Then she hops out, gives Hanna a little wave, and rushes toward me.
I meet Rose halfway, sweeping her into my arms and kissing her. First gentle, tiny nips at her bottom lip, sucking gently, stroking my tongue along the seam of her lips. Then I cup her nape, threading my fingers through her hair, and tilt her head back to take the kiss even deeper.
Her hands clutch my arms—my biceps, she loves touching them, and it makes every hour of exercise worth it—and she makes a little hum of pleasure in the back of her throat.
That sound makes me hard like it always does, and I drag Rose closer to me, letting my arousal press into her belly.
Her hands move to my neck as she plasters her body against mine, and I can feel her nipples rubbing against my chest even through the thin fleece she’s wearing.
Desire throbs, hot and heavy, and I have a moment’s thought of skipping the surprise for now and showing it to Rose later. After I take her upstairs, peel off her clothes, kiss her all over…
Except it’s still light out now, and the reveal won’t be the same in the dark. And after planning this for weeks, I really want to see her reaction.
So I end the kiss, drawing back enough to meet her heated gaze. “I missed you.”
“I missed you, too.” Rose stretches up to kiss my cheek. “You should come next time.”
“I will. Did you have fun?”
“Oh, yes.” She beams at me, her eyes sparkling emerald and gold. “The state park was amazing. And all the trees were at peak foliage, so I got some incredible pictures. You’ll love them.”
“That’s great, hun. Did you find anything you want to use?”
Rose lights up even more. “Oh, Ian. Yes. I got this gorgeous photo of the lake surrounded by trees, and with all the fall colors, it looks like fire. It’s going to be perfect in my new series.”
Emotion sweeps through me so quickly, I’m breathless with it.
My Rose. Painting. Just as she’d hoped.
Because the surgery worked.
We didn’t know if it had, initially. The surgeon had done all he could, but until everything healed and Rose strengthened her hand again, we couldn’t be sure.
And then a couple of weeks ago, Rose finally tried painting again. She was scared, even though she didn’t want to show it. She kept saying, “It’s okay. I like taking photos. And I’m going to be teaching painting at the Sleepy Hollow Arts Academy. So it’s not like I’m losing my art.”
But I knew how much it meant to her. So I was hoping just as hard as she was.
Once she got all her paints out, she asked to be left alone for a while, and I understood, even though I wanted to be there for her.
When she came out of the office an hour later, eyes red and cheeks wet, I thought the worst. My heart was breaking for her.
Then she smiled and ran across the room, launching herself into my arms. “I can still do it. I didn’t lose it. It’s still there. Oh, Ian. I was so afraid. But I can still do it.”
I still get choked up thinking about it.
“Ah, Rose.” My throat gets thick. “I’m so happy for you.”
“Do you want to see some of the photos? I can load them on the laptop.” She pauses. “Or, we can finish this ”—she glances below my waist meaningfully—“first. And then photos.”
“Actually.” I take Rose’s hand. “I have a surprise for you. In the garage.”
“Oh! Do I finally get to see what you and Grant have been building? My guess is a bar for the gazebo. Or a new dining room table?”
“You’ll see.” I made Rose promise not to go into the detached garage for the past week, telling her I was building something new for the house as a surprise. “Come on.”
As I guide Rose to the garage, my heart starts racing. Nervous flutters fill my chest.
At the door, I turn to Rose. “Are you ready?”
“Yes.” She squeezes my hand. “You look nervous, Ian. But don’t be. Whatever you made, I’ll love it.”
I hope so.
On a caught breath, I push the door open and flip on the lights.
Rose takes a step, then freezes. Gasps. And then, “ Ian .”
It’s a studio. Rose’s studio.
All week, Grant and I have worked at it. Installing skylights to get the best light, adding insulation and plumbing and heat, painting everything a bright, clean white. We put in a cleaning station and a workspace and a place to display her finished paintings.
Her head is on a swivel, taking it all in. After an agonizing silence, she says tearfully, “Ian. You did this?” Then she turns to me, blinking away tears. “You made this for me? Ian. Are you serious?”
“Of course.” Cupping her cheek, I brush away a rogue tear. “I want you to have a space here. For your art. Where you feel safe.”
“But. Your car. Your tools.”
“The car can be in the driveway. And I’ll build a shed next.”
As more tears escape, I explain, “I know you don’t want to use the studio downtown. But here, you can work on your art, you can have a small gallery, and I had the B and A guys help with security. There are cameras and alarms and biometric locks. It’s completely safe here.”
“Oh.” Her voice goes small. “Oh.”
Crap. Is this bad? Did I make a mistake? “If you don’t like it, we can find you a space in town somewhere. Or something outside of town?—”
“No.” Rose flings her arms around my neck. “I love it. I love it. This is so amazing. I just can’t believe… It’s perfect. I was worried about where I’d work, but here I’ll feel safe.”
“Ah, hun.” Pressing my lips to her head, I take a moment to take everything in. Her joy. Giving Rose a place she feels safe. Caring for her. Protecting her.
“This is incredible,” she enthuses, looking around the studio again. “I love it so much. And I love you for doing this. Thank you, Ian.”
My heart thuds hard, somersaults, then leaps into my throat. “I have another surprise, too.”
“What?” Eyes going wide, Rose asks, “What else could there be?”
“Well.” It’s hard to breathe. All the air feels like it’s been sucked from the room. “Will you check the cabinet over there?”
Brows arched up in question, she walks over to the cabinet above the sink. “What?—”
“Just open it.”
“Okay.” And she pulls the cabinet door open to reveal rows of paint; her favorite brand, enough to keep her in stock for a year, if the salesperson at the art supply store knew what they were talking about.
And tucked in between the vermilion and crimson, something else.
“Ian?” Her gaze lands on the small box. “What is this?”
“Open it.”
As she flips open the jewelry box with trembling hands, I quickly move to her side.
When she reveals the sparkling diamond inside, I drop to one knee.
“Ian. Is this? Are you?” She’s stammering, making these cute little faces as she tries not to cry. “Is this what I think this is?”
“Yes.” Taking the box from her hands, I take out the ring and hold it out to her. “I couldn’t wait any longer, Rose. I’ve been wanting… and I thought this would be romantic… we could go on a trip or a fancy dinner or a hot-air balloon ride, but I know how much your painting means to you, so I thought?—”
“It’s the most romantic thing I could imagine.”
I hold Rose’s hand, distractedly realizing mine is shaking. “I never imagined getting married again. I didn’t think I wanted it. But when I met you, something changed. You changed me, Rose. Suddenly, I wanted everything with you.”
Gazing into her eyes, I lay myself bare. “You are the one , Rose. The other piece of me. Everything is better because you’re with me. I want a life with you. A future. I want to spend every day doing my absolute best to make you happy. You have my heart, sweet Rose. And you always will.”
“Oh, Ian.” Her tears finally break free. “You make me happy in so many ways. Your smile. How gentle you are. How protective. Your silly jokes. Cuddling with me on the couch. Going to sleep in your arms. Every day I feel lucky to have found you.”
She reaches out to stroke my cheek. “I love you so much. It’s like… my body is filled with it. This love. This joy when I’m with you. This absolute certainty that we are supposed to be together. And”—she sniffs—“I think I fell in love with you from the moment you brought me that stuffed bunny. You captured me, and I’m willingly yours.”
Oh. This feeling.
“And I’m yours.” Taking a deep breath, I ask the most important question of my life. “Will you marry me, Rose? Be my wife? Make me the luckiest man in the world?”
With a little nod, she says, “Yes. Absolutely yes. There’s nothing I want more than to marry you.”
Oh, thank God.
“Ah, hun.” My fingers tremble as I slip the ring on her finger. Light catches the diamond and sends sparks of light dancing across Rose’s face. “I’ll try every day to be the best husband. I promise.”
Rose stares at me, flushed and damp cheeked and the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever seen. Then she gives me the most breathtaking smile. “All I want is for you to be my husband. I can’t wait.”
“Me neither.” Rising, I scoop Rose into my arms, then pepper her face with kisses. “Let’s not wait. How long do you need to plan a wedding?”
“Hmm. Not long.” She pauses to think. “Drake and Alaska are coming for Christmas. Do you think that’s too soon? Maybe a Christmas Eve wedding? My mom would love it. Do you think it would work for your parents?”
“I think they would be thrilled.” I kiss Rose on her nose, her cheeks, her lips. “They would love to come for a Christmas Eve wedding.”
“Okay. So it’s happening? Christmas Eve? We’re getting married?”
I grin. “Yes. It’s happening.” And I can’t wait, either.
Rose loops one arm around my shoulders. With a teasing smile, she says, “We should celebrate. Naked.” She glances at the couch in the corner of the studio. “Maybe christen the new studio, too?”
Something else rises along with my heart, and I stride across the studio with Rose in my arms. “That’s a fantastic idea.”
As I lay my future wife on the couch, I look into her eyes and everything else falls away.
My Rose.
My love.
My future.
My everything .
“I love you, Rose. With everything I am. Always.”
“Ian.” I can feel her love even in the way she says my name. “With all my heart. I love you.”