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I don’t know how I could love him more.
But I let him take my hand and lead me into the hall. I’m only pouting a little that he’s leaving me unsatisfied after one little lick.
Curious, I trail after him.
August leads me into our bedroom—hey, I thought he didn’t want sex just yet?—then out to the deck. He’s oddly tense as he leads me to the railing.
A little box sits on the wood, quiet and unassuming, but—
Oh my God.
Wait.
He clears his throat. “Perhaps this isn’t as flashy as showing up at your grandmother’s house with a ring box and demanding you marry me on the spot,” he says dryly, squeezing my hand. “Still, there’s no one here to watch us this time. It’s just you and me, Elle. It’s ...” He breathes deep, letting go of my hand. “It’s real.”
My heart stops.
I’m dizzy as August picks up the box and sinks down on one knee.
It’s nothing like the first time.
His first proposal was stiff and growly and clean cut and emotionless. Just a business transaction with a stranger.
We’re not strangers anymore.
We’re home.
On the horizon, a storm brews against the sunset over the sea, as if it’s us where the sea and sky meet.
My wonderful August, kneeling in front of me, a scruffy mess of sweat and dirt and disarrayed hair because he’s been helping me make his home into ours.
He’s looking up at me with his whole heart in eyes that can never ice over again as he opens the ring box.
“Eleanor Lark,” he whispers, his voice as ragged as my emotions. “You have completely turned my life inside out, upside down, and shaken it apart. You put me back together better than I was before. We’re tangled together, and if we were ever pulled apart, I’d collapse without you. I need you in my life. Your brightness, your sweetness, the joy you bring, simply by existing. I love you, woman, and this time—this time I’m asking for the real deal. Marry me, Elle. Marry me for real because I can’t live without you.”
My eyes are so blurry I can barely see the ring, but I can tell it’s very different from the one still on my finger. It’s a simple band with swirling engravings, sweeping lines that make me think of subtle blowing winds.
In some weird way, it makes me think of Inky.
That silly penguin we both loved as children for totally different reasons, and whose creator brought us together and made us who we are now.
Us.
Together, our lives united as perfectly as I think that ring will fit on my finger.
I try to say yes, but my voice breaks.
Nothing comes out but a squeak.
August’s brows rise mildly. “I speak Elle fluently, but I’m not sure I can translate that one.”
That ass.
Because he knows.
He knows, and he’s already smiling slowly as I throw myself against him and practically bowl him down to the deck.
“Yes!” I cry, kissing him hard, rough, clutching at him like I’ll never let him go. “Yes, yes, you big lunk. I’ll marry you for real.”
