Page 111 of I Saw You First

“Absolutely not,” he says. He squeezes my hand. “I know how much you love flowers. I can handle it.”

Poor Wil. He still buys me a bouquet every week, but he sends them to work so they don’t bother him when he’s at my apartment.

We walk slowly along the narrow tile path that’s surrounded by flowers on either side of us, Wil sneezing every few minutes.

“Kelsey and Andre got married here,” he says. “I was a groomsman, and I was completely miserable. Kels told me she would kill me if I sneezed during the ceremony.”

I smile as Wil sneezes again. “Well, strike the Sunken Garden from the list of potential wedding venues.”

I want to take the words back as soon as they’re out of my mouth. Oh god, he probably thinks I’ve been reading bridal magazines and sampling cakes, too. My entire body heats with embarrassment, but he drops my hand and turns toward me, placing his palms on either side of my face. He locks his gaze with mine, like he’s searching my eyes for an answer, and then he leans in and kisses me, sweet and soft, like the kiss at the end of a wedding ceremony. Someone behind us whistles and we break apart.

“I’d prefer the Starlight Ballroom,” Wil says, his expression serious, and then he kisses me again.

Maybe this is the moment he proposes.

It is not—of course he isn’t going to propose where his sister got married and sneeze after every other word—but still, I float the rest of the way through the Sunken Garden.

We walk back to the car where he’s stashed a cooler, a picnic basket, and the plaid Faribault Woolen Mill blanket identical to the one I neglected to return to him. I laugh at the memory. We find a sunny, grassy spot and he sets up the spread: cheese and crackers, chicken salad sandwiches, baby carrots, and Snapple lemonade. After we’ve had our fill, we lie on our backs, holding hands, staring up at the bright blue sky and fluffy clouds.

Maybe now.

“Having fun?” he asks, shielding his eyes with his free hand. He still sounds stuffy but at least he’s stopped sneezing.

“I’m having the best time,” I tell him. “I don’t want this day to end.”

He holds his arm up and squints at his watch. My mouth waters a little as I stare at his sexy wrist, made sexier by that worn leather band. Every delicious inch of this man is sexy, especially that Abbey Road tattoo. It’s too bad we’re in the middle of a zoo or we’d be making the hell out right now.

We stop at a coffee shop for an afternoon pick-me-up and then drive to his apartment.

“Ooh, your place,” I say when he pulls into the parking lot. “Intriguing. I feel overdressed.”

“Sorry to burst your bubble,” he says, “but this is only a pit stop. The one when you get your birthday presents.”

“Presents? I thought that’s what this whole day has been.”

He shakes his head. “It’s all part of the package.”

A proposal package?

“Best birthday ever,” he says, “until next year.”

We take the elevator to Wil’s cushy apartment, and I immediately collapse onto the marshmallow cloud couch.

“Are you sure we can’t stay here and watch a movie?” I ask. “Your couch is heaven on earth.”

He laughs. “Watch a movie. Good one. Come over here and open your gifts.”

I sigh as I get up from my favorite place on earth.

“Happy birthday, Abbey Rhodes,” he says quietly when I sit at his dining room table. He slides a small, Tiffany-blue gift bag toward me. “Open this one first.”

I swallow hard. The man works for a nonprofit. He can barely afford the rent on this place, but he said he couldn’t give up the view. No way should he buy me gifts from Tiffany… unless…

I carefully remove the matching tissue paper. “Please tell me you did not buy me something from Tiffany.”

He smirks and shakes his head. “Someday.”

I take a small white box from the gift bag. My hands shake as I lift the cover… is this the moment?... to find a necklace with a twisty gold chain and tiny sunburst pendant, gold with a small opal in the center. It’s delicate and absolutely perfect.