Chapter 10
Tess
“Marry me.”
The words hit me so hard that my entire body locks for a second.
Sound disappears beneath the violent rush of blood pounding in my ears as I stare down at Dylan kneeling in the grass in front of me with my hand clutched tightly in his.
The warm evening air suddenly feels too sharp against my skin, every sensation amplified until I can feel the rough scrape of his palm against mine, the slight tremor in his fingers, the tension radiating through him despite the terrifying steadiness in his eyes.
My mouth parts.
Nothing comes out.
Oh my god.
My gaze searches his face frantically for some sign that this is impulsive stupidity brought on by adrenaline and whatever happened behind the garage with Jeremy.
I look for regret. Instead, Dylan looks exactly the way he does in the office right before making a major decision that changes the trajectory of an entire project.
Focused. Certain. Completely immovable once his mind is made up.
The yard around us stays eerily silent. Somewhere behind me, Clara sucks in a startled breath, but the sound barely reaches me through the roaring in my ears.
Shock crashes through me hard enough that my knees threaten to give. My free hand lifts instinctively toward my chest, fingers pressing against my collarbone as though I can physically steady the frantic pounding underneath.
Marriage?
We’ve known each other for weeks.
Actual weeks.
And yes, we’ve slept together. More than once.
Somewhere between late nights at the office, stolen weekends, and dinners that somehow turned into mornings, something dangerously real started building between us almost from the beginning.
But marriage still isn’t supposed to happen like this.
Normal people do not get proposed to in the middle of a backyard barbecue by a man who apparently fist-fought his best friend less than ten minutes earlier.
My pulse jumps harder.
Oh god.
They really did fight.
“Dylan…” His name leaves me thin and breathless, barely recognizable as my own voice.
The second uncertainty touches my tone, his fingers tighten painfully around mine like the possibility of rejection physically hurts him.
“I’m serious.”
The quiet certainty in his voice sends another wave of heat through me.
I stare at him kneeling there in the grass with his dark hair still slightly disordered from the fight, one side of his jaw faintly reddened, broad shoulders tense beneath his Henley like he’s bracing himself for impact while refusing to look away from me.
And suddenly I understand exactly why Jeremy punched him.
Because this is completely insane.
Absolutely, undeniably insane.
But beneath the panic twisting through me, relief unfurls slowly inside my chest anyway. Dylan Shaw doesn’t do anything halfway. And once he commits to something, he holds on with both hands. And apparently, terrifyingly, he’s decided I matter too.
The realization leaves me dizzy.
“You can’t just…” My voice catches awkwardly, forcing me to swallow before I try again. “You can’t propose to someone in the middle of a barbecue after getting into a fistfight.”
A startled laugh bursts somewhere behind him, but Dylan doesn’t even blink.
“Seems like I just did.”
Several people choke on laughter at once, but I barely register them because he still hasn’t let go of my hand. He’s still kneeling there in front of me while every person in this yard waits for my answer.
Most terrifying of all, I know he means every word coming out of his mouth.
Dylan watches me with the kind of unwavering focus that strips every possible escape route out from under me. There’s no arrogance in it now. No expectation that I’ll say yes because he wants me to. Just hope.
And god help me, that realization wrecks me.
Because somewhere along the way, Dylan stopped feeling temporary to me, too.
It should terrify me more than it does.
Instead, warmth spreads through my chest until my throat tightens painfully around it.
I look down at this impossible man kneeling in the grass with stubborn determination written all over his bruised face and suddenly start laughing. The sound escapes quietly at first before building into something helpless enough that confusion flickers briefly across his expression.
“You are completely out of your mind,” I whisper.
Something cautious enters his gaze for the first time all evening. “Tess—”
“Yes.”
The word leaves my lips before I can overthink it.
Dead silence crashes across the yard again.
Dylan freezes so completely it would almost be funny if my own heart wasn’t trying to beat its way out of my chest. Shock tears across his face with enough force that it strips years off him instantly. Behind him, Caleb blurts out a loud, “Holy shit,” while someone else starts laughing outright.
“You’re saying yes?” Dylan asks slowly, like he genuinely doesn’t trust what he just heard.
I laugh again, shakier this time because the reality of what I’ve done finally catches up with me. “Apparently, I’m completely out of my mind too, so yes.”
The transformation that overtakes his face steals the breath straight out of my lungs.
Relief hits him first, followed immediately by something softer and almost unbearably raw that smooths every hard edge he normally carries.
For one unguarded second, he looks genuinely happy in a way I’ve never seen from him before.
Then he surges to his feet so abruptly I barely have time to gasp before he pulls me hard against him.
His mouth crashes into mine with enough force to send heat exploding through my body.
The kiss feels rough and desperate and completely unconcerned with the fact that half the town is watching us.
His hands frame my face like he physically needs to touch me, and around us, cheers erupt loudly enough to finally break the strange, stunned silence gripping the yard.
Someone whistles.
Jeremy mutters, “Jesus Christ,” in a tone hovering somewhere between exasperation and reluctant relief.
Dylan finally pulls back just enough to look at me again, both palms still warm against my cheeks. Then his expression shifts abruptly.
“…I don’t have a ring.”
The words come out as if he’s personally offended by the oversight.
Laughter explodes around us.
“As romantic proposals go, this one really lacked planning,” Logan calls out from near the grill.
“I was distracted by the fistfight,” Dylan shoots back immediately without taking his eyes off me.
Asher nearly chokes on his beer laughing.
Then Caleb suddenly rips the tab off his soda can and holds it out toward Dylan. “Here. Until you buy the poor woman something that doesn’t come attached to Dr Pepper.”
The entire yard loses it.
Even Clara laughs hard enough that Lily stirs sleepily against her shoulder.
Dylan takes the aluminum tab with complete seriousness. Not even the hint of a smile touches his face as he lifts my hand again and carefully slides the tiny piece of metal onto my finger like it’s priceless instead of ridiculous.
The cool aluminum settles against my skin, absurd and flimsy and somehow perfect enough to make emotion clog painfully in my throat.
“You’re ridiculous,” I whisper, suddenly close to crying for reasons I can’t fully explain.
“And yet you agreed to marry me.”
Fair point.
Still holding my gaze, Dylan lifts my hand and brushes his mouth softly across my knuckles.
“First thing we do,” he says, his voice roughening again, “is get you the biggest diamond I can find.”
THE END