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A tear spilled down her cheek. Followed by another.
The panic that flashed over Quinn’s face as he reached out to wipe her tears away was adorable. If she could have made any sound past the lump in her throat, she would have laughed.
“Alex, sweetheart, please tell me these are happy tears.”
Too overwhelmed to speak, she nodded. More tears fell, and after a few moments, she found her voice. “Thank you, Quinn. This means more to me than you could ever imagine.” She stood, then joined him on his pillow and held his face in her hands. Running her thumb across his lips, she said, “I know I’ve been an emotional wreck today, but I meant what I said at the hospital. I love you. With everything that I am, Quinn. I really do love you.”
He drew her close and softly kissed her damp cheeks, trailing his mouth down to her lips. “Can I ask you a question?”
She nodded.
“I know I’ve been an emotional, hovering wreck today.” He smiled as he parroted her words back to her. “But I meant whatIsaid at the hospital, too. I love you. With everything that I am, Alex. I really do love you. I promise you I’ll do everything I can to make you happy—tokeepyou happy—and I will love you forever. Will you marry me?”
For the second time in a matter of minutes, her mouth fell open. Her heart stopped, and she stared at him in shock. When his words at last registered in her brain, she could only blink. Because it was too soon. It was too crazy. It was too complicated.
She waited for the panic.
And waited some more.
But there was none. There was only peace. And excitement. And a feeling of this—ofthem—being completely right.
A smile spread on her face until it hurt. On her next breath, her arms flew around his neck, and she ignored the twinges of pain and discomfort that raced up her sides. She yanked his head toward her and crashed her lips to his, bruises be damned.
With a laugh, he pulled her onto his lap. “Is that a yes?”
“Yes!” she exclaimed, hugging him again.
They lingered in their embrace, and then he pulled slightly away to slip a ring onto her finger. “I hope you like it.”
“Quinn,” she gasped. The ring—an elegant band with a large, glittery sapphire and small, shimmering diamonds on either side—was stunning. “It’s beautiful. I don’t know what to say...”
“You already said yes. That’s all that matters.” He pulled her close again. “I know it’s a little big on you, but we can get it resized. It was the ring my dad proposed to my mom with. And his dad before him.”
“Oh, Quinn.” Her heart squeezed as another tear trickled down her face.
She looked at the picnic spread out before her. The food, the flowers, the candles, the ring... The thoughtfulness. The love. She caressed his cheek and held his gaze.
“It would be my honor to be your wife, Quinn O’Conner.”
Bringing her lips to his again, she made sure to pour every ounce of love she possessed for the man into their kiss.
CHAPTERTHIRTY-FIVE
“To Quinn and Alex,” Joe toasted, his glass raised high.
“Cheers!” they said, clinking their glasses together.
Alex looked between Quinn, Joe, and Roxie, who were all gathered around Quinn’s dining table, and her throat constricted with emotion. “Thank you for this wonderful dinner, Roxie,” she said. “And really... for everything you’ve done for me. Your friendship has meant so much.”
“Ugh! Stop!” Roxie wailed with an exaggerated shake of her head. “You’re going to make me cry again.” She pulled Alex into a hug that had her wincing. Upon releasing her, Roxie aimed a finger at Quinn. “And you! What’s the deal with telling me you’re going to propose when I’m standing five feet away from her? Were you trying to make me break down right then and there?”
Quinn laughed and slung his arm around Roxie’s neck, smacking a loud kiss to her forehead.
Joe punched Quinn on the shoulder. “Yeah, and thanks, by the way, for not even telling me. I get to the house expecting peace and quiet, and instead I’ve got this one”—he gestured at Roxie—“making a racket in my kitchen. I swear—”
“I’m sorry, Joe,” Roxie interrupted, “but I didn’t hear you complaining about said racket while you were shoveling my lasagna down your throat.”
“Yeah, well, it was either that or starve,” Joe tossed back.
