Epilogue
James
Iadjusted the cornflowers amongst the red dahlias until I was happy with the way they settled together.
The bow I wasn’t worried about, but I fussed with it just the same.
I wanted this to be perfect—more than perfect.
Then, because I was paranoid as hell, I took out the Language of Flowers book Marc had gifted me for my birthday.
Damn, was that really only a month ago? It was surreal how time seemed to pass when I was with Marc.
We’d technically been dating five months—if you counted the summer, which I absolutely did.
Some days it felt like years, as if we’d been together forever.
There was no “before,” or at least not one I liked to think about.
Other days, it felt impossible that five months had already gone by since that fateful day I showed up in Jones’s stead.
Reassured that the flowers I’d chosen were right, I took a step back from the arrangement and took my life—my future—in my hands.
Before I could second-guess myself, I sought out Marc.
He was restocking the seed display, filled with every flower imaginable, by the potting station.
That little gem had been Rumi’s idea, and Marc had instantly fallen in love with it.
She’d even inspired him to create an after-school program to teach kids about gardening and growing flowers.
Months or years, he was still too cute for public consumption.
“Hey, Tulip, do you think you could double-check my design?” I asked, silently willing my nerves to calm the fuck down.
“Sure thing. Give me just a sec to wrap this up.” His “just a sec” felt more like a small eternity of torture, but I kept myself in check.
Finally, he walked over to inspect my handiwork.
“Damn, Honeysuckle, this looks incredible. Interesting choice with the Sweet William and hellebore, but it works really well, especially for a proposal arrangement.” He glanced at me, and I struggled to hide a goofy grin. “It is for a proposal, right?”
I didn’t trust my words wouldn’t prematurely betray me, so simply nodded.
He looked back at the flowers and shook his head with a grin. “Seriously, damn. Whoever is getting this arrangement is one lucky person.”
My chest swelled at his praise, and I nearly forgot why I’d made it. “I’m so glad you think so.” My heart sounded louder than an entire platoon marching to my ears as I fished out the small box from my pocket and pulled off my apron.
“Who’s it for, anyway?” he asked as he plucked the folded card free of its plastic fork.
He was still opening the card to read it, like I knew he would because he couldn’t help himself, as he moved to face me.
By the time he finished turning around, I was already on one knee.
I knew the moment he read the fateful question when his eyes widened and he let out a small gasp. Then he saw me.
“When I decided not to reenlist, I told you I was done fighting for my country, and the only fighting I wanted to do anymore was for you. I’d like to amend that.
I want to fight for us. I want to fight every day for a life that makes me happier than I ever believed possible.
You make me happy. You’ve always been able to see me in a way no one ever has before.
While I’d happily die for you, I’d much rather live. ”
“James,” Marc whispered, his eyes shining.
I opened the velvet box to reveal a mostly simple gold band edged with emeralds and a pink sapphire in a marquise cut joining them at the center. “Marc Weathers, former specialist in the United States Army, brilliant florist, and the love of my life. Will you marry me?”
“Did you really have to mention the army?”
A laugh burst out of me. The random ass things that came out of this man’s mouth. I hoped it would never stop surprising me. “Kind of felt like I had to pay homage to how we met. I can try it again without that bit, though,” I teased.
“No need. It’s bad enough you beat me to the proposal one time,” he said with an adorable huff. My heart thrilled to know he’d been thinking about it too.
“So what do you say, baby boy? Will you marry me?”
He tossed the card over his shoulder and tugged me to my feet.
He pulled me close, so we were chest to chest, and the only thing I could see was the vibrant ring of green in his stunning hazel eyes, eyes that had captured me from the first second they’d landed on me.
A smile shone in his wet gaze as he spoke words I knew I’d never forget for as long as I lived.
“That’s gonna be a green, Sarge.”