Page 104 of Heart Breaker

THIRTY-SEVEN

THREE MONTHS LATER

Wes

Long before Cove, long before becoming a pilot, I’d throw a surfboard in the truck, disappear for a couple of days, and lose myself in the rhythm of the ocean. I’d drive straight across Vancouver Island until I reached Tofino. There was always something about this place—the towering trees, the crashing waves—that has always quieted my mind. Years later, when things with Cove really started taking off, I bought my own place out here.

Whenever I need to think or escape, this is where I come. And when I want to do something special for the woman I love, there is nowhere else I’d rather bring her.

The oceanfront home sits perched above the rugged shoreline, tucked between an expanse of tall cedars and the Pacific Ocean. Floor-to-ceiling windows frame the endless stretch of beach below. Waves crash against the rocks with the kind of steady rhythm that makes you forget the rest of the world exists.

I’d flown us over yesterday afternoon, telling Lottie that we were sneaking away for one last weekend before summer is over. Cove is gearing up for another major product launch, and Lottie’s calendar is already filled with fall and winter weddings, so I pointed out that we could both use the break. And that’s true, but the real reason for this trip is sitting in the pocket of my duffel bag upstairs: a small velvet box that has me feeling more nervous than the first time I flew a plane by myself.

I look through the wall of windows to where Lottie stands barefoot on the deck, the ocean breeze catching the hem of the blue dress she insisted on wearing despite promising that she’d pack “comfortable clothes.”

She’s watching the waves roll toward shore completely unaware that by the end of today, I’m going to ask her to marry me. Again. Only this time, there won’t be a contract waiting at the end of the aisle.

Just forever.

I usually pull out my surfboard when I’m in town, but I scratched that activity off our weekend itinerary before we even left Deep Cove. My wife informed me in no uncertain terms that no wetsuit on the planet is thick enough to make the Pacific Ocean enjoyable. After watching her dip a toe into the ocean yesterday and then run back to dry land, I’m inclined to believe her. Lucky for us, Tofino has plenty more to offer than freezing water.

Lottie slips through the sliding patio door, closing it behind her. A dramatic shiver rolls through her as she rubs warmth back into her bare arms.

“I don’t know how people swim in that,” she says, peering back toward the waves crashing against the shoreline. “It’s beautiful…but absolutely not.”

A laugh rumbles out of me. “It’s not that cold.”

“I guess if you don’t mind your soul leaving your body, it’s okay.”

I grin.

Lottie toes off her sandals, still looking at the beach below as the afternoon sun pours through the glass, turning her hair almost golden.

“I really don’t think I’ve ever seen a place this beautiful,” she sighs.

But all I can think is that the most breathtaking view in the room isn’t the one outside the windows. It’s my wife standing in front of them.

The ocean breeze has given her cheeks the prettiest blush of pink, and her thick hair, a little longer now than it was when we first met, falls in loose waves around her shoulders. She’s been toying with the idea of cutting it, but so far I have talked her out of it. Not because I didn’t think she’d look beautiful—Lottie could shave her head and still stop traffic—but because I love running my hands through it when her head is on my chest.

She catches me staring. “What’s on your mind, Pilot?”

“I’m just admiring my wife.”

She rolls her eyes, but the smile tugging at her lips tells me she loves hearing it. I cross the room until I’m standing behind her.

“Happy?” I ask, slipping an arm around her waist.

She glances around the house, taking in the soaring cedar ceilings, the wall of windows framing the ocean, and the fire crackling in the stone fireplace.

“Very. You’ve planned another pretty incredible weekend getaway,” she says. “This is the kind of place people put on Pinterest boards. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to my husband owing a place like this.”

“One of the perks.”

She leans back against me with a contented sigh. “I could definitely get used to this ocean view.”

I chuckle as she tips her head back to look at me. “This is amazing, don’t get me wrong. The house, the plane, the view.” A smile spreads across her face. “They’re all incredible.”

Her hand settles over mine at her waist. “But I’d be just as happy if we were sitting in lawn chairs in Deep Cove watching the sunset.”