Chapter Twenty-Eight
Magnolia
Against my will, my knees went weak. Vance knew how to wear a suit, and with his hair loose, he had that whole debonair Viking thing going on.
I was not up for this. Speechless, I dug my teeth into the inside of my lip, biting down hard to fight back my tears.
I was not going to cry in front of him. I shook my head in answer to his question. I didn't know what he meant. Did I like what?
"The gazebo," he clarified, gesturing to the metal structure surrounding me. "I've been working on it for a while. Ever since you said you wanted one. You can paint it to match the house . . ."
He trailed off. I didn't know what to say. He'd made me a gazebo? Like I was going to want to put a gazebo Vance had made me in my backyard so I could look at it every day and be reminded of how much he didn't love me.
I shook my head again, still at a loss for words. Coming here tonight had been a mistake. If I'd been able to escape, I would have. I would've pushed past him and gone straight out the door. If only Sloane hadn't locked it.
"I made the house for you too," he said, watching me closely.
I looked down at the miniature metal house on the table beside the champagne. Maybe I'd had one too many glasses of wine, because I didn't get it. Vance swore under his breath.
"I'm fucking this all up. Again." He came into the gazebo, his big body crowding mine, and picked up the house.
I expected him to hand it to me, but he held it close to his chest, looking nervous.
"You said you deserve to be someone's whole world.
And you're right. Magnolia, you deserve everything.
Love. Family. Everything. I want that, too. But only if I can have it with you."
I bit my lip again, but I couldn't stop the tears that spilled down my cheeks. Vance swallowed hard and held up the little metal house.
"I didn't know how else to show you. But I realized, Magnolia, that you're my home.
It's not a place, it's you. Since the day my parents died, I've felt like I was drifting, like home had been torn from me and I'd never find it again.
And I didn't. Not until you. When I'm with you, I have everything I've ever wanted.
I love you. I love you more than anything in the entire world.
Except for Rosie. But I thought that, maybe, we could love Rosie together. "
I was crying too hard to see clearly when he tipped the little house on its side and knocked the black box into his hand.
Opening it, he pulled something out and said, "Magnolia, I want to spend the rest of my life showing you how much I love you."
He dropped to one knee and looked up at me, his hand outstretched, something sparkling fire between his fingertips.
"Will you marry me?"
I'm pretty sure my jaw dropped. He'd bought a ring? I squeezed my eyes shut and wiped my tears away so I could get a better look.
Oh, my God. He'd bought me a ring. He was asking me to marry him. Not in an offhand, Brayden kind of way.
I remembered what he'd said years ago about a proposal. You give the girl a ring, get down on one knee, and do it somewhere special she’ll be able to remember her whole life.
He'd sure as hell known what he was talking about.
I took in the garden with fresh eyes—the fairy lights, the gazebo, the flowers, the champagne. The locked door.
Ask her in a way she'll remember for the rest of her life.
"Magnolia?"
I'd never heard Vance sound so uncertain. "You're sure?" I asked.
I wanted this. I wanted him. More than anything I'd ever wanted, I wanted Vance. But not if he hadn't thought it through. Not if he wasn't sure. I didn't think I could take losing him again.
"I've never been more sure of anything in my entire life. I love you, Magnolia Henry. You're everything—you're my partner, my best friend. You're so fucking sexy you make my head spin. You make me laugh. I want to wake up next to you. I want to make babies with you. I want it all. Only with you."
I studied the ring in his hand. It shone in the sparkling lights, a square-cut diamond with a pavé surround, old-world and elegant. It was a statement of a ring, chosen by a man who wanted everyone to know he'd claimed his woman, and by a man who knew me inside and out.
"Are you going to say anything?" he asked. "Because I'm not letting you out of the garden until you say yes. I know you're pissed off, and you should be. I was an ass. But you love me, and—"
"Yes," I interrupted. "Yes. Yes, I'll marry you."
Vance was sliding the ring on my finger a second later. He stopped cold as the circle of gold settled into place and stared at my hand.
"We can wait," I said, as transfixed by the sight of the ring on my finger as he was. "We don't have to rush."
"I don't want to wait," he said. "If you want to plan something big, we can. I'll be patient. But I'd marry you tonight if I could. We can catch a plane to Vegas."
I shook my head, words caught in my throat. I didn't want to wait either, but I wasn't getting married in Vegas. "I want to get married at my house," I said. "At our house. In the garden. Out back. Only family and close friends."
Vance pulled me into his arms, wrapping them tightly around me, his lips brushing my temple. "That sounds perfect. How long will it take to pull something like that together? A few weeks?"
I hummed in the back of my throat. I had a feeling a few weeks was an optimistic schedule. I didn't even have a dress. "We'll figure it out," I said. Drawing back, I looked up into his impossibly handsome face. "Are you really sure?"
Vance laid a finger across my lips, stopping me from speaking. "Don't ever ask me that again. I was a fucking idiot before. I've been in love with you for years, okay? I just didn't know what to do about it. Aside from the obvious."
"The obvious?" I asked, grinning as his arms tightened around my waist.
Vance grinned back and kissed me, his lips teasing mine apart, taking control until I was bent back over his arm and gasping for breath.
"I had that part clear," he whispered, his lips moving against mine. "It was the rest I had to figure out."
The door to the gallery swung open, and Sloane's voice cut through the darkness. "Are you two done yet? I need to move the pieces in here and open it up. Are you sure you won't let me put a price on the gazebo?"
"It's an engagement gift for my fiancée, Sloane. It's not for sale."
"Fine. Then get your champagne and your fiancée out of my way so I can sell some art." She stormed back into the gallery, letting the door shut behind her, this time leaving it unlocked.
"Did she help you set this up?" I asked, having a hard time believing Sloane would help get us back together.
"She begged me not to dump her and the gallery. Since her attitude about you was the reason I fired her, I told her she could have a second chance if she helped me get you back. She's probably the only person who wanted you to say yes as much as I did."
"What about Charlie?" I asked as the lights in the garden flicked on.
With more illumination, I could see the stands for the garden sculptures, the information plaques and spotlights already arranged.
The door opened again, and workers came through, carrying the sculptures that we'd planned to display in the garden.
In a few minutes, we'd be surrounded by art lovers, no longer alone.
I asked again, "Did Charlie know?"
"Are you going to get mad at her if I say yes?" Vance asked, running his lips along my cheekbone. I glanced down and did a double-take at the huge rock on my ring finger.
"Of course not. Charlie's my best friend."
"Did she pick out that dress?" Vance asked, leaning just far enough away to run his eyes down the length of my body.
"She did. Why?"
"Because you look unbelievably hot, and if we weren't about to be surrounded by people, I'd be fucking you against the wall right now."
"Really?" He trailed a finger down across my collarbone to dip into the wrap neckline of the dress, his finger disappearing beneath the fabric to slide inside my lace bra. I shivered.
"Really. You look hot in anything. Even those men's pajamas you still had from college. But this dress is almost criminal. And those shoes. Fuck, Magnolia. I don't know whether to thank Charlie or yell at her for picking it out."
"Why would you yell at her?" I asked, enjoying our last few moments of privacy.
"You didn't see the way the men in there were looking at you. I don't care if you have my ring on your finger—you're not leaving my side for the rest of the night."
"I've always thought of you as a Viking," I said, "but right now, you remind me more of a caveman."
Voices filtered into the quiet night as people entered the garden, eager to see the work they'd been told had been 'held back' for a special viewing.
Charlie emerged from the crowd and rushed forward, her hand reaching for mine. She lifted my fingers to the light and turned them, first one way, then the other, examining my ring.
"I knew it would be gorgeous. Did he grovel?" she demanded. "I hope you made him grovel."
"Hey!" Vance said, taking my hand from Charlie and pressing it to his chest. He held it in place with his own, the strong beat of his heart thumping beneath my fingers. "Stop manhandling my fiancée. And stop encouraging her to mess with me."
"You deserve it," Charlie said, uncowed by Vance's dark expression. "You were an ass."
"I was," Vance admitted. "And I groveled a little."
"Did he?" She asked me.
"A little. Enough. He groveled exactly enough," I said. People milled around us, murmuring. One brave soul ventured close enough to ask, "Is the gazebo available?"
When Vance curtly answered, "No. It's a gift," she said,
"Will you make one on commission?"
Before he could offend the woman, I jumped in to say, "If you'll give Sloane your contact information, he'll let you know after the show. He's just a little tense tonight." I sent her a sympathetic smile. "You know how artists are. He gets jittery when he has a show."