23. Decker
“Mary, I can’t,” I say, sliding the ring box back across the kitchen table.
“I insist,” she says, pushing the one-carat marquise diamond ring back toward me. The center diamond is surrounded by a colorful array of smaller diamonds in hues of pink, yellow, and green. “It’s one of a kind—an heirloom. And that’s exactly why I want you to use it when you propose. My mother would have loved to know that her custom ring will adorn her granddaughter’s hand.” She smiles through the tears that run down her red cheeks.
“It’s so breathtaking.” I stare down at it, the gold band twisting like a vine, complete with a few tiny leaves.
“My mother loved her garden. It was where you could always find her, and after Juney was born, she’d take her out in a stroller and show her all of the flowers. She’d teach her the names, and even let her pick a few once she was old enough.” Her voice quavers and I reach my hand out to take hers. “I just wish she had lived long enough to see her grow up—long enough for Juney to remember her.”
“I would be honored to promise my love and commitment to Juniper with this ring.” I stare down at the delicate piece of jewelry, imagining how perfect it will look on her hand. When Mary called me to come over this evening after work, I fully expected it had something to do with a wedding; I just didn’t know what. “I have a confession.”
“If you tell me you two are already married . . .” Mary’s eyes twitch and I can’t help but laugh. I think it’s the only time I’ve ever seen even a hint of anger on her face.
“No!” I reassure her. “I was just going to say that I’ve spent every spare second researching rings, trying to imagine what style I’d picture on Juney—what style would really capture her beauty and personality.”
“And you couldn’t find one, could you?” I shake my head. “Because she’s one of a kind, just like that ring.”
Mary’s right. Every ring I liked just ended up looking like every other ring I’ve ever seen. But every single aspect of this ring screams Juniper. Like the vine of the band, she has woven herself around my heart, and just like the tiny flowers that encircle the center diamond, she’s wild and free, something I never want to change about her.
“Hey, what are you doing here?”Juniper’s eyes light up, and she springs from her desk when I walk into her office. She slides her arms around my neck, leaning in for a kiss as if it’s second nature already.
“I came to see you.” I keep my arms around her waist. It’s just after 4 p.m., early for either of us to be finishing up our workday.
“Well, that’s a lovely surprise.” She nuzzles her nose against mine.
“I’ve actually come to kidnap you away from work.”
“Oh,” she releases my neck and frowns, “I wish I could leave early, but I have about two hours’ worth of?—”
“No, you don’t, kiddo.” Ron walks through the back office door. “Go enjoy your afternoon.”
“Dad?” Juniper spins around. “What are you doing here? I thought Mom said you two were heading to Denver earlier to hang out with friends.”
“Plans were rescheduled for next week—something about one of their grandkids having a performance. You go on and have fun. I’ve got nothing else to do besides bug your mother, so I figured, why not give you a hand?”
She glances at me. “Okay, I guess I can’t argue with that. Let me just grab my purse. Thank you, Dad!” She gives him a quick hug before retrieving her purse.
“You two have a good afternoon.” Ron flashes me a wink when Juney turns away from him.
“Will do, sir.”
“So, what’s the plan?” Juney asks me.
“You’re just gonna have to be surprised.” I flash her a flirty smile as we pull out of the parking lot and head back toward the ranch.
Once we park, I take her hand and lead her over to the barn where my horse Clementine is waiting for us.
“You’re taking me out on Clem?” She whistles. “Damn, you must be pretty serious about me if you’re letting me ride her. I know how protective you are.”
“I’ve let you ride her before.” I adjust her saddle, making sure it’s secure before positioning Juniper by her side to mount her.
“Yeah, once when I thought I broke my ankle when we were all fly-fishing.”
“Exactly,” I hoist myself up behind her, reaching around to hold the reins, “and she brought you safely back down the mountain, where we found out you’d just twisted it and were being dramatic,” I tease her.
Once behind her, I take the opportunity to plant a few stolen kisses on her neck as we slowly make our way through the fields and to the trail that will take us to the small overlook where I’ve planned an evening picnic.
“This is so beautiful,” she gasps when we arrive and descend from Clementine. I secure her to a tree, pulling out the apple and carrots I brought for her. “Who knew Decker Slade was a romantic?”
I spread out the blanket and open up the basket, pulling out the bottle of wine and various meats, cheeses, and salads I picked up.
“Well, if we’re being honest, I’m not sure I have been much of a romantic . . . till you.” I stand up and walk over to her, taking her in my arms and spinning her around to look out over the valley below us. “You bring out every good thing about me, baby.”
“Mmm,” she sighs, her body relaxing against my chest as my arms pull her closer against me. “Sometimes I think I need to pinch myself, because this just feels too perfect.” I nuzzle her neck. “I can’t believe you’re mine.”
I choke back the emotions that thicken my throat, sliding one arm down so I can reach into my pocket and finger the ring. I had planned to wait—to have us enjoy our picnic, and then when the sun had set and the stars were twinkling, I was going to propose—but I can’t wait any longer. The ring feels as if it’s burning a hole in my pocket, and the words are scorching the tip of my tongue.
I spin her around to face me, the smile on her face so wide, her eyes squint.
“I know how you feel. Sometimes I worry that it’s too perfect: That the fact that I get to love you—a woman who has been a constant in my life for so long, a woman who has grown into the most compassionate, loving, and kind human I’ve ever met—will someday be taken from me because I don’t deserve you.”
Her smile fades as she reaches her hands up to cup my face. “That’s not possible. You do deserve me—all of me—my heart, my soul, my everything.”
We both close our eyes, swaying silently for a few seconds, like we’re completely lost in each other.
“I want you to be mine . . . forever.” I step back, reaching down to pull the ring from my pocket. “I want to grow old with you, Juniper. I want to protect you. I want to hold you every night and kiss you every morning. I want you to be the mother of my children. You’re already my best friend and the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” Her eyes start to water and her lip quivers. “I want you to be my wife.”
“Yes.” The word tumbles from her mouth in a shaky breath. “Yes, yes, yes!” she says again, huge grins breaking across both of our faces as I take her hand and position the ring on her finger.
“Oh my God,” she gasps, her other hand covering her mouth when she sees her grandmother’s ring. “My grandma’s ring? But how?”
I slide the ring down her finger and it fits perfectly, the diamonds sparkling. “Your mom. She insisted that you have it, and when I saw it, I knew it was meant for you. I looked high and low for a ring that symbolized you, wild and free and beautiful, and when I saw it . . .”
She doesn’t hold back her tears as she launches her arms around me. Neither of us speaks as we hold one another, tears streaming down both of our faces.
Finally, she pulls back, her cheeks warm and red from her tears, which have finally stopped. “I swear I’m happy, it’s just that I can’t believe it’s finally happening—that I’m finally getting the happily ever after I’ve dreamed of for so long.”
“Thank you.” I stare at her, completely lost in everything she is. “Thank you for loving me, for giving me another chance when I know I didn’t deserve it, and for trusting me with your heart.”
“I can’t believe my mom gave you this ring.” She stares down at it again. “When I was little, I’d sneak into her room, put it on, and stare at it. She caught me once and I thought I’d be in so much trouble, but she just took the chance to tell me all these amazing stories about my grandma and who she was. She said I reminded her of her mom—always ready to be out and about doing my own thing. I just wish I remembered her.”
“She told me you loved being in the garden with her when you were little. She said she’d take you around and teach you all about the flowers, and you’d chase butterflies. It made me think about when you were younger and you’d be at my Aunt Celeste’s house or my mom’s house and you’d run around trying to catch bees.” I laugh, remembering how many times we tried to explain to her that the bees could hurt her. “Once, you refused to listen, and you got stung right here.” I pull her hand up and show her where, on the edge of her palm.
“I remember that.” She smiles. “I was, like, maybe seven, and you pulled the stinger from my hand, and to stop me from crying, you kissed it.”
I bring her hand to my lips and kiss it again. “I did, and I remember it worked, because you stopped crying.”
“Yeah, I was so embarrassed,” she giggles. “I ran back around the house and told Milly that it meant you were my boyfriend, and she wouldn’t stop teasing me after that.” We both laugh, launching into story after story—some that have us doubled over in laughter, others making us wonder how we ever denied our feelings for each other.
We settle down on the blanket, enjoying our food and wine as the sun begins to sink slowly beneath the mountains. I wrap an extra blanket I brought around us both as we look out over the valley.
“We should head back soon; I don’t like making Clementine walk down the mountain in the dark.” I rest my arms against her, my lips trailing warm kisses down the exposed skin of her neck. “But first, there’s one thing I need to do.”
She sighs. “And what’s that?”
“I want to make love to my fiancée while the sun sets.”
She spins around, climbing into my lap as her lips find mine. She wastes no time, her hands urgently undoing my belt as our tongues dance against one another.
“Take me,” she pants against my mouth, her fingers wrapping around my rigid cock as she begins to stroke me. “Make me yours.”
That’s the only encouragement I need. I roll her to her back, tugging her jeans and panties down her thighs so I can devour her. She’s already wet, her sweet arousal hitting my nostrils and exploding on my tongue.
“You are mine,” I climb up her body, pinning her hands above her head as I position myself at her entrance. I slide inside. “Every inch of you.” I slide in deeper, a moan tumbling from her lips. “You understand, baby? Mine.”
“Yes, I’m yours,” she groans, her back arching when I slide in further. Her walls clench against me. “Only yours.”
“That’s right,” I grit the words out between clenched teeth. My body trembles from holding back. I begin to move, the strokes long and deep, the way she likes it. “Look at me, sweetheart, keep your eyes on me,” I coach her, my lips just above hers as I piston my hips. “And for the rest of your life, I’m going to be the only man who tastes you,” I kiss her, “fucks you,” I kiss her again, “and makes your body come undone completely, the way you are right now.”
“Oh, oh, I’m coming!” Her words are garbled as she squeezes her thighs against my hips. “Yesssss.”
I bury my face in her neck, releasing her hands as my own body finds its release. I stare down at her when we’ve both finished, her eyes heavy and glassy.
“Kiss me,” she whispers.
I run my thumb across her pink lips. “These lips—these delicious, tempting lips.” I lean in and kiss her gently. “One kiss from you was all it took to break the spell that had me so confused, so lost. One kiss was all it took to make me realize you were always meant to be mine.”