Chapter 33 The Proposal
The Proposal
Kate
Six months.
Six months since I closed the GreenTech deal. Six months of growing into this role. Building something I'm proud of.
Evervolt is thriving. Employee satisfaction up thirty percent. Four more major contracts. The industry paying attention—not because of who owns the company, but because of what we stand for.
And I'm thriving too.
The whispers have stopped. People respect me now. Not because I'm dating the CEO. Because I've earned it.
—
It's a Friday afternoon when Grayson appears at my office door with that look.
The one that means he's planning something.
"Pack a bag," he says.
"What?"
"We're leaving in an hour."
"I have meetings—"
"Canceled them."
I blink. "All of them?"
"Maxwell's covering anything urgent." He leans against the doorframe, arms crossed, infuriatingly pleased with himself. "We're taking the weekend off."
"Where are we going?"
"Surprise."
"I don't like surprises."
"You'll like this one." He pushes off the doorframe. "One hour, Kate."
Gone before I can argue.
—
An hour later, we're heading north out of Seattle.
I watch the city fade behind us. Evergreen forests replace steel and glass. The tension I didn't realize I was carrying starts melting mile by mile.
"Are you going to tell me where we're going?" I ask for the third time.
"Nope."
"Not even a hint?"
"Trust me."
I do. Completely.
So I settle back, watching the trees grow denser, taller. The air through my cracked window smells like pine and earth and mountains.
Like coming home.
Then we round a curve and I see it.
The weathered sign: "Welcome to Maple Glen—Population 2,847."
My heart stops.
"The cabin?" I gasp.
Grayson glances over, and his smile is everything. "The cabin."
I can barely contain it. "Mrs. Everly is going to lose her mind. And Doc Martinez! And Mrs. Patel! Do you think Sweet Crumbs still has those cinnamon rolls? What about—"
"Kate." He reaches over and takes my hand. "Breathe."
I can't stop smiling.
We're going back. Back to Maple Glen. Back to where it all started.
The cabin has been renovated.
The lopsided porch is level and fresh. The cracked windows replaced. Flower boxes overflowing with blooms. A new mat on the steps that reads "Welcome Home."
"Grayson. What did you do?"
"Made some improvements. Come see the inside."
Same bones. New life. The stone fireplace, the exposed beams, the view of the forest—all still there. But the worn furniture replaced, the floors refinished to honey-colored wood, the kitchen updated.
He kept the old coffee maker.
Of course he did.
"I wanted it ready," he says quietly. "So we could come back whenever we want."
I wrap my arms around his waist. "I love it. I love you."
He kisses the top of my head. "I love you too."
—
Saturday morning, we sleep until nine.
I can't remember the last time I did that.
After breakfast, Grayson drives us into town. Maple Glen looks exactly the same. Charming. Slow. Like time moves differently here.
Before we can get out of the car, Mrs. Everly is rushing toward us.
"Kate! Grayson!" She pulls us both into crushing hugs. "You're back!"
We walk through town and people stop us every few feet. Doc Martinez tells me I'm doing "damn good work" at Evervolt. The coffee shop owner insists on free lattes. Even Old Man Henderson nods approvingly.
Family. It feels like coming home to family.
By the time we reach the lake, my cheeks hurt from smiling.
"They love you," Grayson says.
"They love us," I correct. "This is your town too."
He doesn't argue.
The lake is perfect. Still and clear, the mountains rising beyond it. We walk the shore hand in hand, not talking. Just being.
Eventually, Grayson leads me to our bench. The same one where we first really opened up to each other months ago.
We sit. He wraps his arm around my shoulders.
"Do you remember the first time we came here?" he asks.
"Of course. You were brooding and impossible."
"I was terrified." He turns to look at me. "Of how much I was starting to feel for you. I came to this cabin to hide. To convince myself I was better off alone. And then you showed up with your pink suitcase and your color-coded chaos."
"And ruined everything."
"In the best possible way."
He stands suddenly.
I look up.
And he gets down on one knee.
My heart stops.
He opens a small velvet box. A single diamond on a gold band, catching the light like a promise.
"Kate Morgan." His voice is steady, his eyes bright. "I spent years running from connection. Convincing myself I was fine alone. That I didn't need anyone."
Tears are already falling.
"Until you walked into my cabin and refused to let me stay lost. You brought color into my gray world. You made me believe in second chances. In home. In us." He takes my hand. "I don't want to build a future that doesn't have you in every part of it."
He looks at me with such certainty that I can barely breathe.
"Will you marry me?"
I can't speak.
I nod. Frantically.
"Yes," I finally manage. "Yes. Yes. Yes."
He slides the ring on my finger—a perfect fit—and stands, pulling me into his arms.
I kiss him on his cheeks through my tears, laughing and crying at once.
"I love you so much," I say.
"I love you too." He kisses my forehead. "So much it scares me sometimes."
"Good. That means it's real."
Then I hear it.
Applause.
I pull back and look around.
The entire town is here.
Mrs. Everly at the front, hands clasped to her chest, sobbing. Doc Martinez grinning. Mrs. Patel crying with joy. The coffee shop owner cheering. Even Old Man Henderson clapping.
"You told the whole town," I say.
"I may have mentioned it."
"Grayson."
"All right. The whole town."
I laugh and bury my face in his chest.
Mrs. Everly reaches us first. Her hug is bone-crushing.
"I knew it!" she sobs. "I knew from the moment I met you two!"
"Mrs. Everly, I can't breathe."
She releases me—then immediately faints into Doc Martinez's arms.
"She's fine," Doc says calmly. "Just joy. She'll be up in a minute making wedding plans."
Grayson and I look at each other.
We both start laughing.
Beautiful, chaotic, wonderful chaos.
Exactly like us.
—
That night, I sit on the porch steps staring at the ring on my finger.
Grayson settles beside me, pulling me close.
"Happy?" he asks.
"Deliriously."
We watch the stars appear one by one.
"Maple Glen?" I ask softly. "For the wedding?"
"Where else would we do it?"
"Nowhere else," I say. "This is home."
"Always has been."
A year ago I was an assistant who destroyed an espresso machine.
Now, I'm engaged to the love of my life, thriving as COO, with a whole town ready to celebrate us.
Life is funny that way.
One moment you're being exiled for a mistake.
The next, you're exactly where you're supposed to be.