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Two arms circled her waist. She leaned back, a smile pulling at her lips as her head rested against Rich’s shoulder. He was her safe place. Her harbor. The one man who’d pushed until he knew the real her.
“You okay?” he whispered in her ear, his words tickling her skin.
“I’m good.” She smiled, loving the way he felt.
“Dad!” Isla called out, grabbing his hand. “What about my other present? Is it time?”
Rich let Meghan go, and ruffled Isla’s hair. “Yeah, it is.”
Isla looked up at him, her eyes shining. “So say it.”
The corner of his lips curled. There was a collective silence, as though everybody but her knew what was going on. Then Rich dropped to his knee, his broad body only a breath away from hers.
“Meghan Hart. Love of my life. The first person I think about in the morning, and the last thought I have at night. Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”
She blinked, her heart lurching as she saw him hold out a box, a pear-shaped solitaire glinting in the California sun.
“What?”
Isla grabbed her hand, jumping as though unable to stand still. “Do you love it, Mom?” she asked, breathless. “We chose it together. Remember when you were working a few weeks ago? We went shopping.”
Rich smiled. “You wouldn’t believe how hard she found keeping the secret. She deserves a medal.”
Meghan looked at the people surrounding them. Everybody was smiling. Not just Isla and Rich – though their smiles were enough to light everything up. But Dylan and Natasha, Harper and James, Gloria, Kevin and Grant. Heck, even Meghan’s parents were smiling.
“Well?” Rich asked, his fingers curled around hers. “What do you think?”
“I think yes,” she replied, breathless. “I want to be your wife.” She wanted their future. Because she knew it was everything.
“Yay!” Isla shouted, clapping her hands. “We’re getting married.”
Yes they were. And Meghan couldn’t think of anything she wanted more.
Rich wasn’t sure he’d ever get used to waking up next to the woman he adored every morning. It was the most amazing feeling. He turned in his bed, pulling her closer until her soft breath feathered against his ches
t, her auburn curls tickling his skin.
Meghan and Isla had officially moved into his apartment two weeks ago. Isla was ecstatic that her bedroom was twice the size of the one she’d had next door, and she’d wasted no time in making it her own. Rich had bought her a princess bed with a voile canopy that elegantly fell to the floor, lit with fairy lights that made Isla squeal. She insisted on him reading to her every night, and he loved their precious moments together.
“Mmm.” Meghan sighed softly against his chest. It was Dylan’s weekend with Isla, so it was just the two of them in their apartment. He looked down at the ring on her finger, his chest tightening when he saw it sparkle in the shaft of light shining over their bed.
“Babe?” he said, kissing her brow. Her skin was soft against his lips.
“Yeah?” Her voice was full of sleep. Her cheeks were pink and warm as she nestled against him.
“Shall we make it a short engagement?”
She opened her eyes and looked up at him. A soft smile curled her lips. “Why do you say that?”
“Because I want you to be my wife.” He stroked her hair. “And I hate all this waiting shit. Why bother? You know you want to be mine.”
She shook her head, biting down that smile. “Is that right?”
“Yeah. Because I know I want to be yours, too.” He wanted it in writing. Preferably in lights, too. Everybody in Angel Sands needed to know that Rich Martin loved Meghan Hart. Sure, this thing between them had started out slow. But now it was burning bright.
And he never wanted it to stop.
“Why don’t we take out an ad in the Angel Sand Gazette?” she suggested. “Oh, I know. They’re going to make that movie here soon. Why don’t we put our names in the sand so we can record it for posterity.”
