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Another napkin. More writing. My heart skips.
Marry me
I look up at him and find the smile I love, the one he gives so freely now… and a solid band of breathtaking diamonds set in platinum.
“Liam,” I gasp. “How? When?”
“Misty’s not the only one with a secret plan for after playoffs.” He slides out of his seat, going to one knee beside me.
“We didn’t have time to fall in love before we got married the first time. But we fell intolike… instantly. We had respect. Caring. Understanding. We had a plan.”
“A half-baked one,” I whisper.
“We took vows.”
“They were crazy.”
“They were to protect each other. To keep each other safe.”
I nod, my eyes welling because, at the heart of it, he’s right. That’s what we were doing. But only this man would be able to see that. To help me see it.
“I’m asking you to let me make a few additional vows. Because more than anything, I want to love and cherish you, from this day forward through the rest of our lives and beyond. Stormy Hendricks Diesel… will you marry me again?”
I fling my arms around him, kissing him with everything I have. And when I pull back, I nod.
“Yes. I’ll marry you again.” And again and again and again.
But then something occurs to me. Blinking past the tears, I hold up a finger. “I have one condition.”
“Anything,” he says like it’s a vow more sacred than those he’s asking to give me.
“This time”— I bite my lip —“you put out on our wedding night.”
His laughter, warm and whole, fills my heart with joy and love and the promise of a future as precious to me as the man sweeping me up into his arms. “It’s a deal.”
It’s more than that. It’s our very own odds-defyinghappily ever after.
* * *
