Page 97 of Heartstrings & Horseshoes

“Morning, dollface,” Connor drawls. “Don’t take off your blindfold. Trust me. Everything will make sense soon.”

It’d better because I’m wildly confused. Did he say it’s morning? It should be the middle of the night—the drive home from the Dreamhouse is only four hours. My seatbelt’s still across my chest, so we’re still in the truck.

Connor’s door opens before a strange voice says, “Mr. Hayes, welcome. Here’s the item you requested, and your keycards, thank you for checking in early. The bellhop will follow with your bags and the valet will handle your vehicle.”

We’re at a hotel, a fancy one from the sound of it. My door opens, startling me, and Connor unbuckles my seatbelt. He takes my hand and coaxes me out of the truck.

“Trust me, baby,” he says.

He carefully navigates me across asphalt, cobblestones, slick hard flooring, and stops abruptly.

Noises overwhelm me without my sight—conversations, laughing, glasses clinking, the ding of the elevator arriving.

Connor leads me onto the elevator and must press the button to our floor—wherever that is. The elevator stops and Connor takes my hand as we walk across plush carpet.

He lets go of me and the beep tells me he tapped the room key to the door, which he pushes open. My blindfold is gently removed, and I blink from the intrusive lights.

“Connor! What in the world?” I chuckle, as he sweeps me off my feet and carries me bridal style across the threshold of the hotel room. He sets me down, holding me to face him, his back to the door.

“What’s going on?” I ask, excitement and nerves bubbling in my stomach.

Connor takes me by the hand and leads me through a stunning hotel suite. The entryway opens into a vast living space, leading to the bedroom and en suite bathroom. He stops us in front of floor-to-ceiling windows.

It takes me a moment to register what I’m seeing. The dazzling lights of the Las Vegas Strip glitter brilliantly in the dark. People meander the street, from businesspeople to drunken bachelors and bachelorettes.

“You brought me to Vegas?” I ask, stunned stupid.

When I turn around for Connor’s answer, my heart skips a beat.

He’s down on one knee. My hands fly to my face, covering my mouth in shock and tears immediately flood my eyes.

“Baby, don’t cry, please. I can’t take it.” He looks terrified I’m crying so I reassure him.

“They’re happy tears, I promise.”

He clears his throat, visibly nervous, which I find adorable.

“Delilah, I knew from the moment I found you sitting in the dirt you were something special. My heart was drawn to you like a string connected us, pulling me towards you. I didn’t know then the little girl in the pretty yellow dress would become the center of my universe and the reason I breathe.”

I’m desperately trying to listen, but my heart’s pounding in my ears and I’m sniffling back tears. A voice in my head’s shouting IT’S HAPPENING!

“I’ve spent my life loving you, taking care of you, and making big plans. It took us a long time to get here, but I wouldn’t change our journey because we ended up where we belong.

“Watching your sister get married broke something inside me—my patience. I’m done waiting to make you mine forever. Delilah Anne Tate, will you do me the great honor of becoming my wife?”

Connor pulls a black box from thin air and opens it, revealing a stunning pale-yellow diamond ring in a white gold, vintage style setting. Beside it rests two matching white gold bands—one small and thin, the other large and wide.

I collapse, falling into him, bowling us backwards on the floor.

“Yes. A million times yes! All I’ve ever wanted was to marry you, Connor. Yes, I’ll marry you!” I say through restrained sobs as he holds me tight and kisses the tears from my face.

“Baby, I promise to be the best husband you could ever dream of,” he swears, kissing me firmly on the lips.

A knock at the door ends our moment and Connor helps me up to answer the door. To my surprise, a staff member brings in a packed room service cart, while another wheels in a wide clothing rack full of garment bags, loaded with boxes on the bottom rack.

“Is everything to your liking, Mr. Hayes?”

“Yes, thank you. Everything’s on schedule, so please proceed with the itinerary,” Connor says, so formally it makes me giggle.