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“Now, turn around,” he tells me, grabbing both my hips and spinning me until my back is flush to his chest. “And on the count of three, you can take the blindfold off, okay?”
I nod, anxious butterflies taking flight in my stomach.
“One,” I start.
“Two,” he whispers, his hold on my hips tightening as we both say, “Three.”
Peeling the black material away from my eyes, my mouth gapes at the cottage in front of me. “What did you do?” I ask, my eyes welling up at the sight of the Sold sign anchored into the grass. I spin on my heel, locking my gaze on him. “Did you buy this?”
“We bought it.” He smiles, and my brow furrows.
“What? I don’t—” I gasp when he drops to one knee, taking my hand in his. “Chase…”
“Ryan, I’ve been in love with you for eleven years. Did you know that?” I shake my head, my lip quivering as he smiles that bright smile, showing off those stupid bloody dimples that I’ve grown to love more than life itself. “Yeah, well, it took you a hot minute to catch up, but I fell in love with you when you were eighteen years old. I was stupid and waited for you to get with the picture, when what I should have done was throw you over my shoulder and never let you go.” A tear rolls over my cheeks, and my chest heaves on a sob. “But when you were eighteen, you told me something. That first day we spoke in the kitchen of your uni dorm. Remember?”
“I want to fly,” I whisper, my heart warming at the fact he remembers.
“You deserved to fly, Ry. How could I ever hold you back from that? So I let you go, and I guess the adage is true. If you love something, you set it free. And you flew. You did everything you wanted, all on your own. But then you came back, and I knew I would never let you go again. So, are you ready for this?” he teases, cocking a brow, and I chuckle through my tears.
“Yes. More than ready.”
“Okay then.” He breathes deeply and pulls a black velvet box from his pocket. He flips it open, revealing an oval-cut solitaire nestled on a white-gold band of diamonds. “Fly with me. Let me follow you as you spread your wings and soar. Marry me, Ryan Parker, and I promise we can fly forever.”
I open my mouth, another sob clutching me before I can find the words.
“I swear to God,” a voice calls from behind me, and my mouth gapes at the familiar sound. Chase sighs, grumblingcouldn’t just wait a fucking minuteunder his breath, and I chuckle, spinning to find Bailey waiting on the top step that leads into the cottage. “If you say no, I’m revoking bestie privileges.”
“I already told you, Bails. You can’t. You’re stuck with me for life.”
“Facts. So do me a favour?” she asks, and I nod, smiling brightly. “Say yes and put that sad sack out of his misery. Then you get to be my sister for real.”
“If that’s what I get out of this, how could I ever say no?” I tease.
“Are you two done?” Chase grumbles, more than tired of our shit. “I’d prefer an answer today…”
“I guess the husband isn’t a bad prize either,” Bailey says, winking at me before she spins around and heads back inside.
“Husband?” I test the word on my tongue, humming happily. “I rather like the sound of that,” I say, turning on my heel until I find Chase. He pushes himself to stand, banding his arms around my back and tugging me against his chest.
“Say yes, Ry.”
“I don’t think you actually asked. It seemed more like a demand,” I tell him, pursing my lips. “Do I have much of a choice?”
He shakes his head, claiming my lips in a devouring kiss. “Nah. I think I’m going to keep you.” He kisses me deeply, stealing my breath, and I melt against him.
“Does this mean they’re finally going to give me them grandbabies I keep asking for?” Martin asks from somewhere behind us, and despite Chase pulling away with a chuckle, nothing has ever felt righter than this moment right here.
Chase
Two years later…
The fire crackles, echoing through our bedroom as Ryan hops around on one foot, rambling to herself.
My T-shirt swamps her frame, and the new fluffy socks Bailey bought her soften the sounds of her movements. Her hair falls messily over her shoulders, and I can’t help but chuckle at the similarity between this moment and Christmas morning four years ago.
“I don’t know why you’re laughing over there,” she grumbles, narrowing her eyes at me as she props her hands on her lush hips. The diamond on her finger glistens under the winter sun peeking through the open curtains, nestled against a thin white-gold band. “We were supposed to be up two hours ago. The turkey should already be in the oven, and I didn’t even finish wrapping the presents.Christ.”
“It is—”
