Chapter 21 #2
As we walk into the kitchen together, I’m struck all over again at the difference just two weeks has made.
It’s not just a space to heat up microwave meals anymore.
It’s a real kitchen, as Eden proclaimed the first time she saw it after Bea moved in.
There are little potted herbs on the windowsill and a spider plant hanging above them.
The counters are covered with cooking accessories—a green KitchenAid mixer and a fancy coffeemaker and a complicated toaster oven that looks like it could cook food on its own.
Color pops amid the expanse of white counters and cabinets, with small vases of flowers and multi-colored mixing spoons and towels that match the mixer.
The room looks happy. Just like I am.
“Okay, since we don’t have a lot of time, I was thinking eggs and sausage with homemade biscuits,” Bea says. “I have leftover dough from yesterday, so that’ll make it quick.”
“I can cook,” I offer. “I’ve been practicing.”
She freezes mid-grab for the measuring cups. “Um.”
“Bea. I can make eggs. And how hard is it to cook up some sausage?”
A funny look moves across her face. “Maybe you could help with the biscuits.”
I bend down to open the island cabinet, pulling out a box I hid inside there after dinner. Before I stand back up, I reply, “Didn’t you just say the biscuits were already made?”
Bea stares at the mixing cups intently. “They still need to be baked. And you can drizzle honey on them after they’re done.”
Shit. I love her so much.
Laughing, I say, “So, basically nothing I can mess up.”
Bea blushes. “I didn’t say that. And you could mess it up. You could bake the biscuits too long, or put too much honey—”
As soon as I stand up, her eyes jump to the box in my hand. “Indy?”
I round the island and over to her side of it. Then I hold out the large box to her. “It’s a housewarming present,” I explain. “And an I love you present.”
“Indy.” She takes the box from me. “Le Creuset?”
“I would have given it to you sooner. But the color I wanted wasn’t in stock. So I had to wait.”
Her expression brightens. “You didn’t have to buy this. You’ve already spent so much fixing up your apar—”
“Our apartment. Not mine. It’s ours.”
“Our apartment. But this…” She opens the box and peers inside. “Indy! It matches my mixer!”
“I know.” I kiss her cheek. “I know how much you love the color. So…”
“It’s perfect.” Bea beams at me. Then she sets the box on the counter and frames my face with her hands. “I love it.” She kisses me. “And I love you.”
My heart swells with joy. “I love you, too.”
“I’ll use it to make something for your mom. I know we’re doing dinner at Eden and Rafe’s tonight, but tomorrow—”
“Bea.” Angling my chin at the box, I add, “Can you take it out? Look at it?”
“Oh! Of course!” She grins. “Of course I want to look at this amazing Dutch oven.” Pulling it from the box, she strokes the surface almost reverently. “It’s perfect.”
Then she gives me a conspiratorial smile. “When my parents come in September, we’ll have to hide it, though. So we don’t have to sit through a ten-minute lecture on how everything was made so much better in the old days.”
“That’s fine.” When she doesn’t lift the lid right away, I add, “Why don’t you look inside?”
“Okay.” Bea raises the lid, saying as she does it, “I’ve read that these don’t need seasoning. And they’re designed to retain heat even better—”
Then she stops.
Her mouth drops.
“Indy?”
Heart pounding out of my chest, I say, “It’s another present.”
Bea sets the pot on the counter and removes the small box from inside it. “Indy. Is this what I think it is?”
“Open it and see.”
As she opens the small jewelry box, I drop to one knee. Then I watch her face, committing this moment to memory.
And it’s all there.
The joy.
The hope.
The love.
She plucks the ring from the box and holds it in her shaking hand. Her eyes shine with tears. “Indy?”
“I love you,” I blurt. “More than words. More than anything. I’ve never loved anyone like this before. I didn’t know… I mean, I knew it existed. Love. I’ve seen it. My parents, Eden and Rafe, my friends… but I didn’t know how it felt.”
“Indy,” Bea whispers. “I love you, too.”
“I didn’t know that my love for you could feel so big. Like it’s too big for my body. I didn’t know I would think about you all the time. I didn’t know that I would feel your pain like it was my own. And that when you’re happy, I am, too.”
“Oh, Indy.” She takes my hand. “I didn’t know, either. I’ve seen it, but I never thought it would happen to me. And I never…” Her face screws up. “I never, ever thought I’d find someone like you.”
“Like me?”
“Someone who would do anything for me. Who believes in me no matter what. And Indy… you’re amazing. Everything about you. And I love you so, so much.”
“You’re amazing.” I take the ring and hold it out to her. “Will you marry me, Beatrix Howe? It doesn’t have to be soon; we can wait as long as you want. Or as soon as you want. Whatever makes you happy. I’ll do it. I just want to marry you, whenever you’ll have me.”
Tears shine in Bea’s eyes. She swallows hard. “Yes, Indy Garrison. I will marry you. And I don’t need to wait. I know I want to be your wife. And I know I want to spend a lifetime with you.”
As I slide the ring on her finger, my eyes burn. “I can’t wait to spend a lifetime with you, too.”
Once I stand, I pull Bea into my arms and kiss her with all the emotion surging through my body.
She clutches the back of my head and tugs me closer. Her teeth nip into my lip. Her fingers tangle in my hair.
My heart is thundering in my chest. Not from fear, but pure exhilaration.
My fiancée.
When we finally break apart, I look down at Bea’s flushed face and shining eyes and ask, “How soon can we get married, then?”
Bea’s gaze goes soft. “Soon.”
“Tomorrow?” Because I would. If she said yes, I would marry her tomorrow.
With a laugh, she replies, “Maybe not tomorrow. My mom would pitch a fit. But how about September? Since my parents are already coming to visit?”
September.
I take a moment to think about it. Can I wait two months to call Bea my wife?
“Of course.” I cup Bea’s cheek. “September sounds perfect.”
Bea beams. “September then.” She kisses me again. “I can’t wait to be your wife.”
I stoke my hand down her hair. “I can’t wait to be your husband.”
After a moment, Bea’s smile sobers. “Thank you for believing in me.”
My throat goes thick.
She was the one who believed in me first.
“Thank you, Bea.” I close my eyes as I kiss the top of her head. “For everything.”