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“What I’ve been waiting to do all damn night,” I growl, ready to spend the rest of the night making her scream.

13

DYLAN

“They’re even more beautiful up close than they are from the cottage or the photo.” Dahlia breathes softly as we reach the stone cairn at the summit of the hill.

We’ve taken a leisurely pace up the hillside, pausing to take in the views of the village below so Dahlia can literally stop and smell the flowers. She became more cautious about that after getting too close to a thistle, though, which I flattened in revenge for pricking her finger.

“What photo?” I ask, sitting at the edge of a flat rock. Dahlia’s face turns pink and her teeth sink into her bottom lip as she fidgets on her feet. “What photo, petal?”

“Um…okay so I have a confession,” she says hurriedly, wincing. “I may have sort of stalked you online and saw a photo of you with these hills in the back and then gone down a rabbit hole online and ended up buying the house because I found out where this place was and uh…oops?”

For a second, I’m silent as she rambles on. Then I burst into laughter, unable to help it as the woman I love stands there, red to the tips of her ears.

“Don’t laugh!” she protests, but her words are wobbly from her own mirth.

“Oh, petal. You’re a damn gift,” I say as the laughter eases, snatching her around the waist and setting her on my lap.

“I’m a stalker!”

“Prettiest fucking stalker I’ve ever had,” I tease. “Thank fuck you did because now I have you.”

“I love you,” Dahlia murmurs, sinking into my arms.

“I love you too.”

My heart picks up speed. In truth, we didn’t come all the way up here just for a walk. It’s a beautiful day, and the views are just as nice, but this is more than that. I’ve never been so fucking nervous in my entire life. Hell, I don’t think I’ve ever felt nervous before Dahlia. Then again, I didn’t feel much at all before her.

She’s brought sunshine and warmth to my cold, admittedly cave-like life. I was surviving before, but I wasn’t truly happy. And now that I know what I was missing, I’m determined to keep her as mine forever. I can’t imagine my life without her. I want us to grow together, to live life together.

“If we’re telling all our secrets, I do have something else to tell you…” Dahlia starts, but I interrupt her. I can’t wait any longer. As it is, I feel like I might explode. The little box in my pocket feels like a damn boulder.

“Me first,” I say, standing up and sitting her in my place. She blinks at me, a furrow between her brows.

“What’s going on?” she asks, looking a little worried.

Don’t fuck this up,I beg myself as I pull the box out of my pocket and lower to one knee. Dahlia’s jaw drops as she gasps, her hands flying to her face.

“You mean the whole world to me, petal,” I say, forcing my voice to be steady. “Every day with you is heaven, and I don’t want that to ever end. Will you make me the happiest man alive and be my wife?”

I nearly tip right over as Dahlia launches herself off the rock and barrels straight into me. On her knees with me in the grass, she kisses me and though it pains me, I pull away. I need an answer.

“Tell me I can put this ring on your finger,” I say.

“Yes, yes, yes,” Dahlia cries, holding her hand out.

I take the diamond ring from the box and slide it onto her ring finger. She takes a second to stare at it, her eyes welling with tears. It’s vintage, with a silver band and a large circular diamond in the center.

“It’s perfect,” she sobs, holding her hand up to her face so she can admire it. “You’re perfect,” she adds, and this time when she kisses me, I kiss her back fully until both of us are panting.

“Okay, now you can tell me whatever it is you wanted to say,” I tell her, tugging her up to stand again. I don’t let her go, wanting to stay in this moment with her forever. Her ring sparkles against my chest where she flattens her palms, my hands around her waist.

Dahlia’s grin is brighter than the diamond, brighter than the sun. She is the most stunning thing I have ever seen, and she’smine. I can’t wait to make her my wife.

Instead of answering with words, Dahlia drops her hand from my chest and takes my wrist, tugging my hand away from her waist. She places my hand on her lower stomach, her smaller hand over mine.

Confusion washes over me as I wonder what the hell she’s doing.

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