“It’s just me,” he said, meeting my gaze with earnestness. He extended the box and opened it to reveal a beautiful engagement ring.
I’d been wrapping the blanket around me like a towel after the shower when I stilled, and I felt my eyes bulging.
“Bee,” he said, his throat bobbing, “This whole last year?—”
“Yes! I will marry you!” I threw myself at him and started crying.
He kissed the top of my head and then pulled me away to pepper my face and neck with kisses. “I had a whole speech.”
“I want to hear it. I do. Sorry.” I looked up at him through blurred vision as he spoke, but I couldn’t retain or process anything. I was too happy. I was screaming too loud on the inside.
Plus, I was sure I’d have him tell it to me at least four more times tonight.
“Will you marry me?” he finished.
“Took you long enough.” My voice came out wobbly. “Yes.”
The following afternoon, New Year’s Day
It seemed the whole town was at the top of The Slope and decked out in their finest swim gear for the first inaugural Whisker Wonderland Charity Ski Event. I’d spent half the year planning this event, the proceeds which would be going to, of course, the animal shelter.
“Such a turnout,” I said, surprised, looking at what had to be half the town coming to join us at the top of The Slope. “All thanks to you,” Owen said, shifting from foot to foot on skis next to me.
“I am awesome,” I said.
In the periphery, Benny Jr. handed out hot chocolates from Peaked Interests and wasn’t too miserable looking. He’d graciously agreed to volunteer his time and money for the event. I waved to Deckard, shivering in his skivvies, and the brunette I didn’t recognize on his arm.
“I hadn’t thought of the logistics of seeing all my friends and neighbors scantily clad when organizing this event.” I crinkled my nose and turned back to Owen.
The sun shone brightly, and the mountain had been dumped with fresh powder the week before. The conditions were perfect to ski down a mountain in a bathing suit.
“Maybe next year, we push for parkas,” Owen agreed.
I shuddered after seeing Mateo, the EMT, in a bright red banana hammock.
“Remind me to research how to burn images from your retinas,” Owen mumbled.
“I’m way ahead of you.”
“Are you okay? Too cold?” Owen leaned into me, and warmth instantly spread over my side.
“I’m perfect. I can’t believe so many people came out for this.”
“I can’t believe how much back hair Samuel Clemens has. Don’t look,” he said.
“Well, of course, I looked. You can’t tell someone not to look and expect them not to look.”
Owen grinned down at me. He smiled so much these days, and I swore every smile added a year to my life. At this rate, we’d be giving Ned Fled a run for his money.
“Oh my God, Connor Finkle has a full-back tattoo.” I gasped.
“Who’s that?” Owen bent toward me to whisper. His eyes followed my gaze and widened slightly. “Wait, the librarian guy? Whoa, sick dragon. It is always the quiet ones,” Owen mutteredand straightened. “The list of things I didn’t need to know about my neighbors grows ever longer.”
I shifted on my skis, my body shivering as the initial adrenaline of getting up here and seeing everybody started to wear off. “Good news is, if you ever have to deliver a speech to the town, you won’t even have to use any imagination to picture them in their underwear.”
“God, that’s a scary thought.” It was his turn to shimmy in disgust.
“Holy freezing snowballs.” I laced my cold fingers through his warm ones.
