Epilogue
Five Months Later
“That was so dope,” Ian said.
He’d heard that more times than he could count since they landed in California via West’s private jet a few days ago.
Rowan Carlisle’s wedding.
Talk about a crazy course in meeting the family.
Every single one of Paris’s siblings was not only at the wedding, but also on the damn jet.
It’d gone to North Carolina Thursday, picked up family there, then came back to New York and took off that Friday with anyone else that flew there if they couldn’t be in North Carolina.
Being stuck in the air outnumbered hadn’t been fun.
Though it wasn’t as horrible as he thought it’d be.
And the fact that her entire family was in one place was why he’d planned this the way he had.
After all, the eyes were on the newly married couple.
“It was a pretty sweet wedding,” he said.
On the beach at a secluded venue shut down to the public.
No expense spared that he could see.
And now they were back at the hotel, walking distance from where they’d been, his son going to the balcony to look at the waves below.
“Can I go swimming?” Ian asked. “Rowan said he was going surfing now. He said he’d show me how.”
He found it funny that after the wedding most were going in the water, but it seemed to fit that Carlisle’s personality.
“Sure,” he said. “We’ll be down once we change.”
“I’m almost afraid to put a bathing suit on,” Paris said. “I ate so much food I might have a pooch in my belly.”
“No one is going to notice,” he said.
Ian went to the door of the two connecting rooms, he and Paris going into their room to change into their swimsuits.
He heard the door shut, then popped his head into his son’s suite, saw him gone and returned to Paris. She was grabbing towels and moving toward the door.
“Wait up,” he said. “I wanted to talk for a minute.”
She turned and smiled at him. “Okay. What’s up?”
He grabbed her hand and pulled her to the couch.
He couldn’t believe how nervous he was over this.
Maybe it was the fact that Austin Westerly knew exactly what was happening this weekend and sent him a questioning glance when they left the reception.
Finding the right time was hard.
There was no right time.
And he couldn’t wait another minute.
“Fletcher?” Paris asked, laughing softly as he pulled her down beside him. “You look like you’re about to testify in court.”
“It feels worse,” he muttered.
Her smile shifted, more curious now. “Okay. That’s not making me feel any better.”
He still had her hand in his. He hadn’t let go.
He didn’t want to.
“Being on that jet with your entire family,” he started, glancing toward the balcony where the ocean stretched wide and endless, “was probably the most intimidating thing I’ve done in years.”
She laughed. “More intimidating than organized crime?”
“Yes,” he said without hesitation. “At least with them I knew the rules.”
Her thumb brushed over his knuckles. “You did great.”
“I was outnumbered.”
“You survived.”
“I haven’t always gotten family right,” he said quietly. “I didn’t protect mine the way I should have.”
Her expression turned serious. “Fletcher—”
“Let me finish.”
He shifted closer on the couch.
“When I look at you,” he said, his voice steady but thick with something deeper, “I don’t see chaos.
I don’t see complication. I see the chance to build something that doesn’t feel like walking on a fault line.
I see someone who laughs with my son. Who challenges me.
Who calls me out when I’m being a coward. ” His mouth tipped slightly.
“I see the same,” she said, squeezing his fingers.
“I love you,” he said again, firmer this time. “And I don’t want to date you. I don’t want to ‘see where this goes.’ I don’t want to wait for the perfect moment that doesn’t exist.”
“What do you want?” she asked, her voice catching, shaking, nervous like his.
He pulled open the drawer he stuffed the ring in earlier by the couch.
Her eyes widened instantly.
He exhaled slowly.
“I talked to Ian before we came,” he said. “He’s excited about this. He’s just as happy as me. As I hope we are together.”
“If I was any happier I’d need bigger clothing.”
He laughed and kissed her quickly. “I don’t care that this is fast,” he said. “I care that when things get hard, we don’t run. That we choose each other. Every time.”
He slid off the couch onto one knee.
Nervous didn’t begin to cover it.
“Those are the important things,” she said, her lower lip trembling.
“I don’t want fear making decisions for me ever again.” Her tears were falling freely now. “Paris,” he said, “marry me. Build this life with me. With Ian. Let’s do it right.”
For a split second she just stared at him. Then she let out a watery laugh. “You planned this after my cousin’s wedding?”
“Yes. As another sign that family is as important to me as it is to you.”
“Yes,” she said. “Yes, it is.” She kissed him hard, her hand out and shaking. “Yes, I’ll marry you. Yes, yes, yes to everything. Put that ring on my finger!”
He pulled her close to him, kissing her slow and sure, the ocean crashing outside like applause.
Almost as if saying, this time, he got it right!
The End!