21. Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-One

S ix Months Later…

Rose

I perch on the edge of an overstuffed chair, my hands clasped tight in my lap to keep them from fidgeting. The coffee shop's buzzing, filled with the chatter and laughter of Sea Shanty Cove's finest. But all I can think about is Braxton, with his rumpled hair and those glasses perched on his nose, giving him that delicious professor look that sets my heart racing.

"Christ on a cracker," I whisper under my breath as Braxton shifts his weight, one hand tucked in the pocket of his slacks, the other gesturing as he speaks. He's the epitome of casual elegance, and he wears it well. Our eyes lock across the room, and for a moment, it's like we're alone in this crowded space. His lips curl up, and that smoldering smile of his tells me he's reading my mind clear as day. We're both counting down the seconds.

The bell above the door jingles, signaling another neighbor joining the party. Folks are squeezed into every nook and cranny of Bayside Bean Coffee. Tessa, the owner and one of my best friends, is manning the counter, pouring cups of specialty coffee drinks. She's a spitfire, having taken over the family business and turned it into something special, something that’s hers. Today's the grand re-opening, and she's in her element.

But today isn’t just about coffee. It's also about Braxton's big debut here in town. He may be a stranger to many, but not to me. That man uprooted his whole life, settling in our little town to pen his latest best-seller. And that novel's the reason our paths crossed, right here in Sea Shanty Cove.

Well, that and Honeybun.

"Y'all settle down now," Tessa calls out, clapping her hands for attention. The crowd falls into a respectful silence as Braxton steps behind the podium, arranged in the middle of the shop, framed by shelves of books and the aroma of freshly ground coffee beans.

It’s obvious he's a seasoned pro at this sort of thing. Book readings, signings, and publicity. Yet there's a glint in his ice-blue eyes that tells me this time it's different.

He begins to read, "Chapter One..."

My heart is pounding hard inside my chest. The crowd might see him as Baxter Barrows, the grumpy anti-social author, but to me, he's just Braxton, the man who looks at me like I'm his morning sun.

Braxton hasn't let me sneak a peek at his manuscript, always shooing me away with a kiss on the forehead and a promise of surprises. I've seen him wrestle with every word. Now, the world's about to get a taste of what's in that brilliant mind of his.

As he reads the first few chapters, his secretiveness makes sense now; he's not just unveiling a book, he's baring his soul. His baritone voice echoes through the coffee shop. The crowd is entranced by his storytelling.

A few minutes later, it's like we've all been spellbound. Braxton's a master. He makes you forget where you are, who you are, until there's nothing but the story.

He introduces the main character’s love interest, and I soon realize she's me. From the long blonde hair to the vine of roses tattooed around her ankle.

With every word, Braxton has woven our tale into the pages, and I feel exposed. He's seen me and he's laid our love bare for the world to read.

“Her laughter," he reads, "soothes the darkest corners of my soul. The moment I met the blonde angel, I knew she would be mine. I knew she would be my wife, bear my children, and we will grow old together.”

When he finishes, the audience erupts into applause, but tears are streaming down my cheeks. I can't help it; I'm crying ugly tears.

Braxton looks up from the pages, and I see the love, his feelings mirrored in mine.

"My characters speak to me," he says, his eyes never leaving me. "Damian Black speaks for me tonight because just like him, I want my inspiration, my muse, and the love of my life to be my wife."

He moves toward me, a beautiful solitaire ring glinting between his fingers.

"Primrose, will you marry me?"

"Braxton," I can barely find my voice, "A thousand times, yes."

Cheers goes up around us and I wonder who was in on this proposal. I sneak a glance at our friends and family. Adrian, Braxton’s brother, Adrian’s son, Connor, as well as Lila, Ash, Jack, and Tessa are here tonight. They’re beaming, proud of themselves for keeping a secret.

Braxton's closeness sends a shiver down my spine, his breath warm against the shell of my ear. "Please tell me I got this right, baby girl," he murmurs, his voice low.

A giggle bubbles up from within me. The ring. Mercy, the ring. It slides onto my finger and the room seems to hold its breath before erupting into "oh's" and "ahh's" around us.

"I’d say you definitely hit the diamond on the head... or something like that..." I fumble through my words, cheeks hot, embarrassed by the attention.

Baxter's laughter booms, a rich sound that goes straight into my heart. "Primrose Flowers," he says, "you've turned this grumpy old man’s world upside down."

I launch myself at him, throwing my arms around his neck as everyone cheers again.

The bell above the door jingles loudly, signaling the arrival of another guest.

Honeybun, my four-legged joy and chaos, bounds in. His white butt and tail wiggling uncontrollably. He’s a boxer on a mission, his mouth holding some sort of trophy.

"Look who couldn't stay away," I say, my voice tinged with affection as Baxter and I part slightly to welcome our baby. “He brought us a gift!”

Baxter chuckles, stooping to greet Honeybun. But it's what's in his mouth that draws a collective gasp from the crowd and sends a blush scorching up my face.

Oh, Honeybun.

Baxter straightens when he sees what's in Honeybun's mouth.

"Uh, yeah... he's a giver," Baxter says sarcastically. He stoops as he reaches for whatever is in Honeybun’s mouth. The dog's jaw is locked tight, his boxer pride loving this attention.

"Come on, asshole," Baxter grumbles, trying to coax the object from Honeybun's mouth. Honeybun, bless his heart, isn't having any of it.

"Sweetie, let Daddy have it," I coo, hoping my voice will do the trick, but Honeybun just wags his tail harder.

"Stubborn fucker," Baxter mutters, but there's no real bite to his words.

I lean in closer, squinting to get a better look at what he's got clenched between those stubborn jaws, and my heart nearly stops.

"Wait a minute...is that what I think it is?" I can hear Lila’s voice squeak out. Heat rushes to my cheeks.

"Maybe?" Baxter's reply comes out half-strangled.

"Holy shit!" Ash exclaims, pointing to where Honeybun stands, grinning around a scrap of lace that's undeniably pink.

"Is that a pair of pink panties?"

I hope against hope that maybe, just maybe, they're someone else's. But deep down, I know those pink frilly panties are mine.

I turn towards Baxter, pleading for him to do something.

"Braxton," I whisper, my voice barely more than a horrified whisper. "Help. How did this happen?" I put my head in my hands.

With a sigh, he kneels, his gaze never leaving Honeybun.

"Yeah, … about that," he starts, a crooked half-smile appearing on his face.

"He kind of has a collection."

Laughter ripples through the crowd and I bite my lip to stifle the giggle bubbling up from somewhere deep inside, threatening to break free. I don’t even know where it comes from. It's not the reaction you might expect, considering my underwear is the main attraction, held hostage by my naughty pet.

But there's something funny about the whole situation. Honeybun has definitely stolen Braxton’s thunder tonight.

"Give it here, bud," Braxton murmurs, but Honeybun is darting away with a playful bark, the pink panties flapping in his mouth.

I shake my head and laugh despite my embarrassment. Our romance started with Honeybun's mischief and his morning swims. It's only fitting he starts the engagement off as well.

"Looks like we've got ourselves a panty thief," I say, trying to keep the mood light. Braxton's still wrestling with Honeybun, who thinks this is the best game ever. Everyone laughs.

Braxton gives up the chase and makes his way back to me. His lips brush the crown of my head, sending a shiver right through me. The crowd returns to being social once again, giving us a moment alone. Meanwhile, Honeybun is soaking up the attention.

"Just when I thought tonight couldn’t get any better, it’s definitely better with a bit of Honeybun naughtiness thrown in."

He leans down, his breath a whisper against my ear, sending shivers down my spine despite the warm air.

"And speaking of naughty," he continues, his voice dropping to that husky tone reserved for the moments when it's just us, "I have some rather illicit plans for you later, Miss Flowers. Plans that involve celebrating our engagement in a more... private setting."

"Oh, Mr. Barrows," I manage, playing along with his game, "you do have a way with words."

"Only the best for my future wife and my naughty schoolgirl," he replies, his eyes promising a lot more naughty mischief tonight.

"Come on, then." I nod toward the door, ready to escape the well-meaning eyes of Sea Shanty Cove.

"Let's go home…"

Honeybun interrupts with another playful bark, darting ahead of us.

"Right," Braxton says, following the dog's lead, “To home, where the real celebration begins."

With Honeybun bounding ahead, we make our way out of the coffee shop overlooking the harbor, the sunset painting the sky in shades of love and life and a future filled with laughter, passion, and the occasional stolen pair of pink panties.

I realize that this chaos, this love, this life is exactly where I'm supposed to be. With Braxton, with Honeybun, and with our friends and family in Sea Shanty Cove.

The End.

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