Chapter 24 Sierra #3
I stare at the technical drawing, absolutely stunned, but elated.
I recognize the floor plan of Pier Seven.
The main differences from the way it looks now are the little circles that indicate patio tables outside, on the water side, and the words Cutie Fruitie running along the second, smaller bar at the side of the main room.
“I thought it would be perfect on the south side,” he explains, “where everyone walks by to access the pier and the beach. We can put in a big window so you can offer walk-up service, and we’ll have stools along the bar inside, for your customers to sit.”
When I meet his eyes, the tears in mine are so thick I have to wipe them away to see.
He still looks worried. “Are you upset?” He folds the paper and stuffs it back in his pocket.
“If you don’t like it, we can do it another way.
This is just an idea. To show you I’ve been thinking about this.
And how much I want you to be a part of—”
“Mason,” I sob. “It’s perfect. This is the most beautiful, meaningful, thoughtful, fucking amazing thing anyone has ever done for me. Or proposed to do for me.”
His face softens. “Yeah. Shit.” He rubs the back of his head. “I didn’t really think this through, how I was going to do this. Not entirely. But really . . .” He looks out at the view again, then back to me. “This is as good a place as any. A place that makes you happy. Your home.”
I don’t understand what he’s talking about—until he gets down on one knee.
Then I swear I almost pass right out.
I grab the railing with one hand. Bite my tongue and cover my mouth with my free hand as I blink back tears.
Mason looks up into my eyes, and I can see that whatever he’s about to say, he means it. Deeply.
“A moment like this,” he says, “is probably the thing I’ve feared the most since I was abandoned on my wedding day. I thought I would never do this again. But then I never could’ve imagined I’d meet someone like you, Sierra Daniels.”
He reaches into his other back pocket, and pulls out a little velvet satchel. He opens it and pours the contents into his hand. It’s a ring.
A diamond ring.
“Oh my god, Mason.” I’m laughing and almost crying at once. “What else have you got stuffed in those pockets?!”
He smiles up at me through his tears. “Nothing much. It’s just my mom’s engagement ring. I couldn’t even find the box, so I hope this is okay.”
And that’s it. Now I’m crying, for real. The tears pour down my face, and I haven’t cried in so damn long, it feels like a relief. Ecstasy and agony all at once, because all I want to do is throw my arms around him.
But I do my best to stay on my feet, and just listen to what he’s saying as blood thrums through my ears.
“I love you, Sierra. And I’m so sorry that I didn’t tell you before. But I’m telling you now. I want you to be my wife.”
I’m crying so hard I can’t answer for a long moment, struggling just to catch my breath.
“Are you all right?” He takes my hand and gives it a squeeze.
“I think . . . I just needed you to say you love me,” I sob. “I needed to know.”
“I love you,” he says devoutly. “Will you marry me? And open your eyes? Please?”
I’ve squeezed them shut to try to hold back the flood, but it’s unstoppable. I open them to see his gorgeous face tensed with worry, tears and hope glistening in his eyes.
I wipe the wetness from my face and offer him my tear-streaked left hand. “Yes! Yes, I’ll marry you.” My hand shakes as he slides the ring on my finger. I laugh a little through my tears and so does he. It’s a little loose, but I know we can get it sized to make it fit.
Then he gets to his feet, takes me in his arms, and kisses me, deep and slow.
When we finally come up for air, he says, “Do you like the ring?”
I don’t have to look at it to know I like it. But I look.
It’s simple, elegant. Gold, with a sparkling, round diamond. Perfect. “I love it.”
“And I just want you to know, I didn’t propose to my ex with this ring. My mom still had it at that time. But she took it off a lot when she was working in the orchard. She wasn’t wearing it when she . . . when she died.” He swallows. “So it’s not a bad omen or anything, putting it on your finger.”
I blink back tears. “Of course it’s not. It’s a symbol of a great love. And a symbol of ours, too.” I cup his bearded jaw in my hands. “It’s a good omen.”
I can see what this means to him, that I want to wear his mom’s ring.
He takes my face in his hands and kisses me softly.
“We can have the wedding whenever you want,” he murmurs against my lips.
“We can take our time moving you over to Orchard Cove, keep your apartment in the city, whatever you need. We have the rest of our lives, and there’s no rush.
But . . . promise me?” His eyes gleam with emotion. “Promise me forever, Sierra.”
Tears stream down my face at his words, the vulnerability in his voice.
“I’m not a crier, Mason,” I protest, trying to blink the tears away, but they just keep coming.
He swipes them gently away with his thumbs. “Then, this means . . . ?”
“It means yes,” I tell him. “Forever.”