Chapter 8
Chapter eight
I exhale with relief before pulling him into a hug and bury my face in his shoulder for a heartbeat. “Gideon … I love you. Thank you for making this so easy on me, and I’m sorry if I caused you any pain.”
“You didn’t.” He kisses the top of my head the way he always has, brotherly and sweet. “Take care of each other. And if he ever hurts you again …” He shoots Creed a half-grin, half-warning look. “I’ll use the family privilege card and break his jaw.”
Creed nods. “That’s only fair, baby brother.”
Gideon steps back, with a last tip of his head, and walks into the shadows. The cameras are still rolling as I turn to his brother, who doesn’t wait for Elena’s cue or for the producers to hand him the final rose.
He takes a long stride forward and drops to one knee right in front of the world with an emerald ring glinting in his palm. My pulse thuds in my ears. Emerald is my birthstone, but he wouldn’t propose on camera, would he?
“Lyssa, I’ve carried you in my heart through every blizzard, every whiteout, and every night I climbed poles in the dark just to keep lights burning for people who needed them. But the only light I’ve ever really needed is you.” His hand trembles a little when he holds out the ring.
Oh my God, he’s really doing it. This is really happening.
“Marry me. Let me wake up to your smile every morning. Let me hold you through every winter. Let me be the man who never lets go again. Let me spend the rest of my life proving I’m yours forever.”
Tears stream down my face. I’m laughing, crying, and shaking all at once. “Yes,” I whisper. Then louder, for the cameras, for America, for him: “Yes. A thousand times yes.”
I pull him up to his feet. He slides the ring onto my finger, and it fits as if it was always meant to be there.
Then he kisses me slowly, with his hands framing my face and thumbs brushing away tears.
When we break apart, we press our foreheads together, breath on breath, and he whispers so only I can hear: “Mine.”
“Yours,” I breathe. “Always.”
The lanterns flare brighter. Applause erupts from the crew.
Elena’s voice rings out, half-laughing, half-awed: “America … I present your final couple, Creed and Lyssa!”
I don’t hear the rest of her spiel, or whatever the booming-voiced announcer is saying.
All I feel is him. My warm, solid home.
Finally.
Forever.