Chapter 39
BLAIRE
“Blaire Wardwell …” He says my name like a vow.
He’s down on one knee in front of the couch. A black velvet box sits open in his hand. A beautiful, solitaire diamond ring catches the firelight and throws rainbow sparkles.
“I walked into your shop with a family curse, a numb heart, and a pessimistic attitude about life. Then I met you, and everything changed. For once in my life, I found someone who made all of this worth it. Falling in love with you was easy. Even though you sometimes find it hard to speak your truths, I want to hear them. My entire life, I thought I was meant to be alone. But I just hadn’t found you.
Now that I have, I can’t imagine living another day without you as my wife.
I want to wake up with you every day. I want to feel your ice-cold toes in the middle of the night.
I want to wish upon stars with you. Look for signs.
I want to spend a lifetime with you, Blaire Witch.
” His emotions take over, and he doesn’t fight it.
“Because you’re mine, sweetheart. You were mine before I believed love was possible.
Fated. So, marry me. Be my witchy wife, Blaire, and make me the happiest skeptic in the world. ”
Tears stream down my face, but I’m laughing. “Yes, yes. No question.”
Our lips slam together, and then he’s sliding the ring onto my finger, past the knuckle. It fits like it’s home, and this time, it feels right. He stands, and I do too. I wrap my arms around his neck, and I’m off the ground, spinning in the living room.
He sets me down and takes my scarred hand in his.
“It’s one of your aunt’s diamonds in a new setting,” he says as the ring settles on my finger. “She gave it to Doris Jean, just for this moment.”
The fire pops. For a second, neither of us moves.
“She saved this for me?” I ask.
“For years. Your aunt told her the love of your life would come to Pine Haven and that Doris Jean would know when she met him.” He turns my hand, and the stone sparkles. “She said she knew the moment I arrived in town.”
My aunt never met him.
The tears start all over again, and Jamie holds me through it.
“I love you,” I say.
He kisses the top of my head. “I love you, sweetheart.”
I sit back and hold both of his hands in mine.
“You said I find it hard to speak my truths, so here they are. I saw your grounds the first day you walked into my shop, and it scared me so much that I hid. The no falling in love rule was never about you. It was about me because I knew you were different. I spent every moment with you pretending you were only temporary, but nothing about you ever was.” My voice cracks, and I let it.
“You’re my one true love, Jameson Cross. I think I knew before you did.”
He kisses the love line on my palm.
“This has been the best fall of my life,” he admits.
Through the window, the snow comes down over the yard where we once howled at a thinning moon like two fools who had thirty days and thought that was it.
“We should call everyone,” I say and then stop.
Winter will scream. Josie will cry. Doris Jean will make sure the entire town knows I said yes. Congratulations casseroles will be dropped by for a week, and I’ll love every second of it.
“Actually, tonight is ours. Just ours. We’ll share ourselves with everyone later. Not like our phones will work here anyway.”
“Love that for us,” he says.
Neither of us can stop smiling.
“When do you want to get married?” I ask.
“Yesterday.” He kisses my cold nose. “But I’ll settle for tomorrow or whenever you’re ready. There’s time.”
We make out on the couch and hold each other. My head finds the place on his chest that’s always been mine, even back when I pretended that wasn’t the case. His heart rate steadies under my ear as I think about everything that’s happened.
The tabloids will say it was witchcraft. My friends will say it was fate. Maybe they’re both right.
On my left hand, two rings catch the last of the light. The mood ring sits violet on my pointer finger, a promise kept, just like his. Two fingers down, my aunt’s diamond sits on a beautiful band.
The fling was supposed to end on November first. It did. But we traded it all for this.
Snow keeps falling, and the coals settle. As he runs his fingers through my hair, he falls asleep. Reading him used to be my job. Now it’s a hobby. When the fire dies down, I add more wood to it. Before going back to him, I look out the window.
A blanket of white has reached the porch. The Mustang looks like a hill in the yard. No plow will touch the switchbacks for days.
“Blaire?” he whispers.
I turn to him and smile. “We’re snowed in,” I say with a smirk. “I manifested this.”
“Which part?” Jamie stretches out on the couch, arms behind his head.
“All of it.”
Morning eventually comes. The snow stands past the second porch step, and we don’t have cell service to call anyone. We eat toast and eggs for breakfast on the couch. He taps his mug against mine like we’re making a toast. The mountain has decided the world can wait.
“This is our secret,” I say, and the thought delights me. “The best news of my life, and I can’t tell anyone.”
“The best?” he asks.
I twist the diamond with my thumb. “No competition.”
“Did you think you’d be engaged before the end of the year?”
“I hoped.”
He refills our coffee and catches me staring. “What?” he asks.
“Just looking at my future,” I say.
He kisses me.
His mouth is soft at first, and then it isn’t. I climb onto his lap, and his warm hands slide under my sweater.
“I have a question for you,” he murmurs against my throat.
“Yes?”
“What does my fiancée want to do with a snowed-in day?”
I pull back far enough to see his face. “Say that part again.”
“Fiancée.” His grin turns wicked. “My fiancée.”
“I could listen to that all day, fiancé.”
“Mmm. Me fucking too. Girlfriend. Fiancée. Next up, wifey.”
He lifts my sweater over my head, and we take our time because we have it. We undress each other between kisses. The fire warms one side of me, and he takes the other. Every man before him taught me to keep some of myself hidden. There’s no reason for me to do that. He loves me for me.
Jamie finds my left hand and interlocks his fingers with mine.
“The hand where a wedding ring will one day go,” he says.
“All or nothing,” I whisper.