Page 89 of Stuck With the Smokejumper

Something in me goes quiet, because he's not just picturing himself out here alone.

Then he goes still, his eyes steady on mine in a way they weren't a second ago, serious enough I know this isn't only about the house.

“I spent most of my life not thinking twice about staying anywhere,” he says. “Home was wherever I got sent. Then Blackpine happened. The people happened.” He looks at me. “You happened.”

I don't say anything. I don't trust myself to yet.

“I bought this place because I want somewhere that’s mine,” he says. “Not crew housing. Not a seasonal rental I'd be out of by spring. Somewhere I could picture staying.” He pauses. “And when I picture staying here, you're here with me.”

He reaches into his pocket.

I understand what's happening about half a second before he does it, and even that half-second isn't enough to prepare me for watching Beck Hale get down on one knee on a porch overlooking Alder Lake.

“Ivy Sawyer,” he says. “Will you marry me?”

“Yes.”

I don't hesitate, don't need time to think it over. I've known the answer to this question for longer than he's probably realized. He slides the ring onto my finger, and I pull him up and kiss him before he's even fully standing, both of us laughing against each other's mouths in a way that isn't remotely elegant but doesn't need to be.

When I finally look down at the ring properly, something about it catches my attention. It's beautiful, simple, but the gold has a softness to it, worn smooth in a way that new rings never are.

“This ring has history.”

“My grandmother's,” Beck says. “My dad's mother. My grandfather proposed with it. Dad's kept it since she passed.”

“Your dad gave you her ring?”

“I asked him for it.”

Simple, steady, exactly like him. It undoes me a little more than his proposal itself did, knowing he made that call, explained why, and that somewhere his parents have known this was coming.

Eventually he takes me inside, and the mood turns lighter again, easier, walking through rooms that are mostly empty except for a bed, a table, and not much else. Very Beck. I start imagining furniture, a couch there, curtains there, already thinking in terms of ours instead of his.

Then I stop in front of the fireplace mantel.

“I thought you gave that to Nolan.”

“I did.”

“Then why is it on your mantel?”

“Bought another one.”

He picks it up, considering it seriously enough I have to warn him with a look. After a moment he sets it back down, unused. For now.

I check the time and realize, with some alarm, we're supposed to be at Russ and Annie's already.

“We're late.”

Beck doesn't look remotely worried about this.

“Does Annie know we're going to be late?”

“Yeah.”

I narrow my eyes at him. He doesn't explain, just smiles and heads for the door. I follow him out to the truck with my ring still catching the light every time I move my hand.

We arrive at the Grangers' twenty minutes behind schedule, and I try, briefly, to keep my left hand tucked at my side while we walk in, some instinct toward wanting to tell everyone myself. It lasts about four seconds. Annie takes one look at my face, then at Beck, and her whole expression softens into something that isn't remotely surprised.