42. Emma
One Year Later
“RK! Donnie! Get your butts inside!”
I planted my hands on my hips as I watched the two run around the yard at full speed. They took a sharp right and barreled straight for me. I stepped out of the way just in time for them to run inside, shaking my head.
I glanced at my watch and cursed.
The Wildflower Festival was today. Despite everything that happened a year ago, the event went so well that we’d all been asked to run it again. It was quickly on its way to becoming a tradition.
Hunter had left this morning to meet Cam, Sammy, and Colt downtown. I’d be meeting up with Haley, Alice, Sarah, and the boys before we all went our separate ways to do our parts.
I locked the back door and wasn’t surprised to see RK lounging in sunlight next to Donnie, two peas in a pod. It didn’t matter that RK was at least six times the size of Donnie, they were best friends.
I leaned down to give them each scratches before straightening. “Alright. We’ll be home later.”
I grabbed my purse off the hook and stepped outside. The skies were bright blue, cotton candy clouds floating in the distance.
A lot had happened in the last twelve months. I’d sold Madden Enterprises to the Martinez brothers. Liam and Lucas Martinez were up-and-coming entrepreneurs with heart, which was what I’d wanted for the company. I’d almost sold out to a larger corporation, but that felt wrong since my dad had always refused to do so. Hunter, of course, happened to have a connection who introduced us to Liam and Lucas, and the rest was history. I knew I’d made the right decision by letting it go.
Both Angela and Josh went to jail. They’d confessed to giving Michael Madden the drugs that had killed him. Angela believed my father would leave her everything, not me. Josh believed he’d leave the company to him, not me. The two of them had agreed to work together to kill my father in hopes that they’d gain everything they’d wanted.
They’d both been wrong.
I’d been wrong about a lot of things too, and it took some time with Sarah’s therapist (now my therapist too, she was getting all of our business at this point) to undo the knots I’d tied up.
Hunter had been there for me on every step of the way. We weren’t married yet since we’d decided to take our time. We knew we were in this forever.
My phone rang as I got into my car. I pressed the answer button as I backed out of the drive. “I’m on my way,” I said quickly.
“Hey, Emma,” Haley said. “You’re wearing your dress, right?”
“Yeah,” I said, frowning.
“How does your hair look?”
“Good, of course. Why?”
“Just for photos for the paper. Also, how soon can you get here? There’s an issue at the main tent.”
“What kind of issue?” My voice pitched. I’d literally made sure every single thing that could possibly go wrong wouldn’t go wrong.
“Just meet me over there. I’ll see you soon.”
“But—”
Haley hung up before I could ask anything else. I let out a frustrated sigh and sped up, making my way to Citrus Cove Cafe. It was where our group was parking, since it was close to the festival set up.
A few minutes later, I parked next to Hunter’s truck. I hopped out and looked around, bewildered.
Where in the hell was everyone?
Part of Main Street was barricaded off. There was a tent at the center full of vendors and had a stage towards the back. I picked up my pace as I darted towards it.
Haley intercepted me, a ray of pregnant sunshine. She was about six months along, as healthy as could be, and happier than ever.
“What’s going on?” I asked.
She grabbed my shoulders, giving me a look over. “Hold still, you have a mascara clump.”
“Bitch, what is going on?” I hissed, closing my eyes so she could fix my lashes.
“Just trust me.” She let out a soft snort. “Follow me.”
My stomach twisted as she turned and headed into the tent. I followed behind her, then paused.
This wasn’t the tent set up we’d agreed on. What the hell was going on?
But then I saw it.
Rose petals spread over a walkway leading up towards the stage, all different shades of pink. My heart skipped a beat as my gaze lifted to where Hunter stood. He was dressed up in nice jeans, a pressed button down, and his nice boots.
Behind him, there was a wall of vibrant colors and rich greens. Countless wildflowers sat together, creating a tapestry of beauty. In the center, there was a neon pink sign that spelled out ‘ Will you marry me? ’
Tears sprang to my eyes and my breath hitched. I slowly proceeded down the walkway and looked to either side, realizing our entire family was here.
“All of you were in on it,” I cried.
Gentle chuckles filled the tent from our loved ones, but my eyes were on him .
Hunter met me at the bottom of the steps at the center of the stage.
“Hi, sparks,” he whispered.
“Hi, dimples.”
He grinned and gathered my hands, bringing them to his lips. My heart pounded, all of my love for him welling up as I looked into his rich brown eyes.
Then he slowly got down on one knee.
“This is long overdue, but I wanted to do it right,” he said. “You deserve everything good, Emma. All that you dream of, I want to give to you. I love you. I’ve loved you since the moment you tased me. I know we did things backwards, and I know I’ve taken my damn time, but…”
He slowly pulled a box out of his pocket and opened it. My breath left me. Everyone else in the room disappeared except for him and me.
The ring was perfect. A marquise cut diamond that gleamed on a white gold band, our initials engraved along the side. It was everything I’d dreamed of my entire life, and even more importantly—it was from the man I loved.
“Will you marry me, Emma Madden?”
“Yes,” I cried. “Yes, yes, yes. I will. I’ll marry you, Hunter Harlow.”
He let out a shaky breath, tears shining. “I promised myself I wouldn’t cry.”
I laughed as he took the ring and slid it on my finger. I immediately threw my arms around him as claps and cheers filled the room, our lips finding each other in a hungry kiss. His arms wrapped around me as he lifted, sweeping me off my feet.
I sniffled as I pressed my forehead to his. “I love you,” I whispered. “I love you so much.”
“I love you too, sparks.”
I knew he did.
I knew he loved me just the way I was.
Ours was the type of love that grew stronger like the Harlow oak tree, with roots that stretched and healed. It was the kind of love they wrote stories about, the kind that made us stupid. It was the kind that made us cry, the kind that made us laugh. The kind that made us change.
It was the kind of love that would last forever.