I turned to face him. “I want to, Cole. But I’m scared.”
“I know you are. But let me tell you this. My life has taken some unexpected twists and turns, but I know a few things for sure. I know I was meant to be Mariah’s father. I know I was meant to live in this house. And I know I was meant to spend the rest of my life with you.” He cradled my face in his hands. “You’re home to me, Cheyenne. You’re family to me. The way you love me makes me want to be a better man.”
Tears filled my eyes. “You’re the best man I know, Cole Mitchell. You always have been.”
“But I can be better.” He paused to take a breath. “I had my first appointment with a therapist yesterday.”
Gasping, I tipped my head back to look at him. My heart beat even faster. “Really? You did?”
“Yes. And I survived.” His shoulders rose. “My scars aren’t pretty, but if you want to see them, I’ll show them all to you.”
“Cole, that means everything to me,” I whispered, rising up on my toes to kiss his lips. “Everything.”
“Good. Now come inside. There’s one more thing I want to show you.”
He took my hand and led me up the walk, through the front door, and up the stairs.
When we reached the closed door to the master bedroom, he paused and turned to me. “Close your eyes.”
I did as he asked. A moment later, he took both my hands and I felt myself being pulled forward into the room. It was warm, and smelled delicious—like Blair’s bakery in the morning.
“Okay. You can open them.”
I opened them and gasped. My hands flew to my cheeks. I turned in a slow circle, looking at the bedroom of my dreams, lit by dozens of candles. My eyes traveled over the elegant bedding, the soft colors, the plush fabrics, the shining floors.
And the window seat—he’d built a window seat. With a cushioned bench upon which half a dozen pillows rested, along with a soft throw blanket. Not only that, but it was bookended by floor-to-ceiling shelves, freshly painted white and waiting to be filled.
“Cole,” I choked out over a sob. “Did you do all this?”
“I had help,” he confessed, looking happy about my reaction. “The guys were here all last weekend. Moretti was a godsend. And Bianca DeRossi—no matter what he thinks—is an angel. That was her in the car out front. She lit the candles for me and waited to make sure it was safe.”
BDR—Bianca DeRossi. Now it made sense. And yet it was still beyond belief.
“I’m stunned.” I shook my head, wiping my eyes again. “It’s so beautiful. Everything is perfect. Better than I dreamed it could be.”
He came over and wrapped his arms around me. “That’s what I want for you. Something better than a dream.”
Our mouths came together, open and hungry, our hands working to remove coats and sweaters and jeans and boots and what seemed like an endless amount of layers of winter clothing. Finally, we scrambled beneath the covers of the bed, naked and desperate to lie skin to skin, to make up for lost time, to express with our bodies what words could not.
“God, I swore to myself I was going to take my time with you,” he whispered, moving inside me hard and deep. “And now we’re here and I can’t slow down.”
“Don’t,” I begged, pulling him tighter to me, rocking my hips beneath his. “Don’t slow down. For once, I won’t say there’s no rush. There’s a rush. There’s definitely a rush.”
He laughed, pausing only to bring his lips to mine. “I love you so much.”
“I love you too.”
And then we were lost to each other, and just like he promised, it was something better than a dream.
* * *
Afterward, we lay on our sides, facing each other, covers pulled up to our waists.
“I’m sorry I made you wait so long before getting this right,” he said, propping his head up in one hand. “I was dying to call you every day last week, but I felt like I couldn’t, not unless I had something real to offer you.”
“All I’ve ever wanted was this.” I placed one hand over his heart.
“It’s all yours.”
“Finally.”
“Now you tell that girl inside you that I chose her, and I fucking meant it.” He poked a finger playfully against my sternum.
I laughed. “She heard you.”
“Does she believe me?”
“Yes.”
He grabbed me and rolled me on top of him. “Well, just in case she needs more convincing, let her know I’ve got all night.”
“All night?” Surprised, I looked down at him. “We have all night?”
“We have all night.” He kissed me, brushing my messy hair back from my face. “Our first night in our bed in our house. That is, if you’ll agree to live here with me.”
“Can we have pancakes for dinner?”
He grinned. “All the time.”
“Yes,” I said, a shiver moving through me. “I’ll live here with you.”
He kissed me once more. “This is the real New Year’s Eve,” he whispered. “This is the real beginning.”
“Mmm,” I murmured against his lips. “Finally, I get to kiss Cole Mitchell at midnight.”
Suddenly he flipped me beneath him, pinning my wrists to the bed, staring down at me with narrowed eyes. “You weren’t really going to kiss that fucking Mavs player on New Year’s, were you?”
I rolled my eyes. “What do you think?”
His crooked grin appeared, slow and sexy. “No way.”
“So you get it now, huh?” I took his face in my hands. “It was always you, Cole.”
“I get it now.” He kissed me softly. “I get you now. And I’ll never let go.”
Thirty-Four
Epilogue
Cole
“Is that what you’re going to wear?” Mariah assessed me from my bedroom doorway, her nose wrinkled.
I studied my reflection in the mirror above my dresser. “Yeah. What’s wrong with it?”
“It’s boring. You can’t wear a boring outfit to propose to Cheyenne.”
“Shhh!” I scolded, rushing to check the hallway to make sure Cheyenne wasn’t right there.
“Don’t worry. She’s downstairs on the phone with Aunt Blair.”
“Still.” I yanked her into the room and shut the door. “Keep your voice down. And I’m not wearing this to propose. I’m going to change before dinner.” I zipped up the weekend bag I’d just packed.
“Into what?” she asked suspiciously.
“A suit. What do you want me to wear, tight shiny pants?”
She giggled. “No. You’d look terrible in tight shiny pants.”
I gave her a dirty look. “Are you and Buddy ready to go to Grandma’s?”
“Yes.” Then she sighed. “I wish I could come with you.”
“We’ve been over this, honey. We love you very much, but—”
“I know, I know.” She flipped her hand in the air. “Some things are better in private.”
“Right. Plus she’d be suspicious if you were there. I don’t want her to know what’s coming.”
Mariah pouted. “But call right afterward, okay?”
“I will.”
“And I get to help plan the wedding,” she whispered.
“Of course. You and Cheyenne can plan it all.”
“And be in it too.”
“Other than the bride, you will be the most important girl there.”
She beamed at me. “Got the ring?”
“Got it.” I’d picked it up from the jeweler that morning, and the box was tucked inside my bag.
“And you’re going to do it tonight at dinner?”
“That’s the plan.” I’d enlisted April Sawyer’s help in booking what she called the most romantic booth in the restaurant at Cloverleigh Farms for nine o’clock tonight. “But we better stop talking about it now.”
“Right.” Mariah mimed zipping her lips, which had been our secret signal over the last month, ever since I’d told her
that I wanted to ask Cheyenne to marry me.
Finally, she’d said.
We’d gone to the jewelry store together and she’d helped me pick out a ring, for which I then sought Blair’s approval, just in case a nine-year-old girl and thirty-three-year-old man did not have good taste in diamond rings. But Blair had taken one look and said it was absolutely perfect. I was worried she was going to let the cat out of the bag, since she and Cheyenne were so close and talked almost every day, but somehow she’d managed to keep the secret.
The jeweler had said he could have it ready for me by Valentine’s Day with no problem at all, “our” room at the Cloverleigh Farms inn was booked for the entire weekend (again, thanks to a little assistance from April Sawyer), and my mother—who knew but had been sworn to secrecy on pain of letting Buddy track mud on her new white living room rug—had happily agreed to watch Mariah and the dog at her house while Cheyenne and I were away. Last night I’d told Griffin, Moretti, and Beckett about my weekend proposal plans over beers at the pub, and they were happy for me—for both of us.
The only other person who knew was Liza, my therapist. We’d discussed it a lot, in fact, and I felt good that she’d been supportive of the idea. Not because I was “cured” or anything, but because I was openly talking about how taking such a big step might affect me and what I could do to cope with the panic attacks that still occasionally snuck up on me. I can’t say that I enjoyed putting all my emotions out on display and dissecting them the way she liked to at our sessions, but I could see how it helped to stop pretending they didn’t exist and take steps to anticipate and mitigate the negative stuff. I liked having a process for dealing with it, and best of all, Cheyenne could see that I was willing to do the work on myself in order to be a better partner to her. I could even see how it made me a better father—more patient, empathetic, and understanding.
Everything was in place.
All I needed was the love of my life.
* * *
Cheyenne
I gasped. “You got our same room!”
“Of course I did,” Cole said, opening the door for me. “After you.”
I moved past him into the beautiful, familiar room, my heart thumping happily. On the table by the window was a champagne bottle in an ice bucket and two glasses. The drapes were pulled open to reveal a winter wonderland—a pasture and red barn, the rolling hills of the vineyard, the rows of bare trees in the orchard—all blanketed with snow. Removing my coat, I laid it over the back of a chair and stood in front of the glass, taking it all in.
“God, this reminds me so much of Blair and Griffin’s wedding day. Remember that blizzard?”
Cole came up behind, wrapping his arms around me. He kissed my temple. “I remember everything about that day. And that night.”
Smiling, I placed my arms over his. “Seems like yesterday, doesn’t it? And yet it seems like we’ve been together for a hundred years.”
“I agree. I don’t know what I did without you. Were you really right there next door all that time?”
“Pretty much.”
“God, I was stupid.”
“Don’t feel bad.” I patted his hand. “Most men are.”
He switched his grip to a headlock and growled in my ear. “Careful, little girl. I’ve got you all alone in the woods now.”
Giggling, I pretended to fight him off. “Oh no! Whatever are you going to do to me?”
He swept me off my feet and carried me over to the bed, tossing me onto it and stretching out above me. “Well, I was going to pour you some champagne, run a bubble bath for you, maybe book you a massage before our dinner reservation . . . but now I’ve changed my mind.”
“Oh yeah?” I wrapped my arms and legs around him.
“Yeah.” He buried his face in my neck and kissed my throat, his hand stealing beneath my sweater. “Now I just want you right here in this bed.”
“Mmm. Works for me.”
“And I want you naked.”
I laughed. “Even better.”
He picked his head up and whispered against my lips. “And I want to make you scream as loud as you did that first night in this room.”
Smiling, I rubbed my lips back and forth against his. We always had to be so quiet at home, so that we wouldn’t wake Mariah. “Well, then. You better get busy.”
* * *
The first time was frantic, fast, rough, and—yes—loud. So loud that I felt bad for any guests staying in the surrounding rooms at the inn.
“Don’t feel bad,” Cole said, running his fingertips up and down my spine. “I hope everyone heard. Then they’ll know what a man I am.”
“Oh, Lordy.” His stomach growled noisily. I picked up my head and grinned at him. “I think you worked up an appetite.”
“You might be right.”
“Should we go down to dinner?”
“Does that mean we’d have to put clothes on?”
“Um, yes.”
He frowned. “Maybe I’ll switch my vote to room service.”
“But I brought pretty clothes to wear. And I think you’ll like my outfit for tonight.”
“More than I like your naked body?”
“Well, maybe not that much.” I laughed. “But you’ll still like it.”
“Okay, fine. We can get dressed and go eat.”
I gave him a quick kiss. “I promise, we will get naked again right after dinner. What time is our reservation?”
“Nine.”
I checked the clock on the nightstand. “Ooh! I barely have forty-five minutes to get ready!” Rolling off him, I scrambled from the bed to the bathroom and switched on the shower. I didn’t have time to wash my hair, so I just threw it up so it wouldn’t get wet.
Being in the shower reminded me of the morning after Griffin and Blair’s wedding. It made me smile, remembering the way he’d said, You’re making it really easy to fall in love with you.
I got out of the shower and dried off, and while I was getting dressed, Cole slipped in. He left the bathroom door open, and as I was pulling the sweater dress I’d worn at Thanksgiving over my head, I heard him say, “I’ve got some fond memories in this shower. Is it too late to ask you to get back in?”
I smiled. “Yes!”
“Dammit.”
By the time he got out five minutes later, I’d already tugged on the thigh-high burgundy boots and I was fussing with my hair.
Holding a towel around his waist, he stood behind me in the mirror and shook his head. “Fucking hell. Not the boots.”
Grinning mischievously, I added another pin to my loose, messy bun. “The boots.”
“But I won’t make it through dinner.”
“You won’t even see them during dinner.”
“Doesn’t matter. I’ll know they’re there.” He came up right behind me and kissed the back of my neck. “Let’s stay in.”
“Cole, you’re getting me all wet,” I said, laughing. “Now go put some clothes on before I lose my mind. You look too good in a towel.”
He tossed it aside. “How about without the towel?”
Groaning, I spun around and faced him, looking him over head to foot. The messy wet hair, those gorgeous eyes, the five o’clock shadow, the broad shoulders and chest, the sculpted arms and abs, the massive cock between his muscular thighs, stirring again. I forced my eyes up to his. Placed my hands on his chest. “Without the towel, you look even better. I still can’t believe you’re mine.”
“Believe it.” He kissed me softly. “I guess we can have dinner before I ravage you again. The torture will be bittersweet.”
I laughed. “I’ll be ready in five.”
He disappeared into the bedroom area while I finished getting ready at the mirror. When my hair was neat enough and my makeup complete, I turned off the light.
“Well?” I said, presenting myself to Cole, who was dressed in a charcoal suit with a light blue dress shirt. His hair was combed, his shoes were shined, and the room smelled like his cologne. As
always, he set off butterflies in my stomach. “How do I look?” I asked.
He looked up from adjusting a cufflink. “Hmm.”
“Hmm?” I stuck my hands on my hips and pouted. “That’s not the right answer.”
“I know, but . . .” He studied me as he came closer.
“What?” I looked down at the chunky, off-the-shoulder sweater dress. “I thought you’d like this outfit. It’s the same one I wore on—”
“I know. I do like it.” He circled me like I was a bride trying on a wedding gown and he was the dude from Say Yes to the Dress. “It’s just missing something.”
“It is?” I touched my earlobes. “Oh, I forgot my earrings!”
“No. That’s not what’s missing.” He moved around to the front of me again, reached into his pocket and took out a small box. Then he opened it. “This is.”
I couldn’t breathe. Twinkling against the black velvet cushion inside the box was a gorgeous diamond solitaire on a delicate silver band.
Cole got down on one knee. “This was supposed to happen at dinner,” he said. “But I just can’t wait another minute.”
I covered my mouth with both hands and squeaked.
“Cheyenne Dempsey, I’ve known you almost my entire life. And even though our paths took us in different directions for a while, I know in my heart that right now, I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be. I’m with the woman I want to spend the rest of my life with. And when I think about our future together, I’m happier than I ever imagined was possible.”
I started to cry and had to wipe tears from beneath my eyes.
He smiled, although his eyes shone too. “Now I don’t come alone,” he said. “Mariah and I are sort of a package deal.”
Laughing, I sniffed and nodded.
“But she and I agree that you make our family complete—for now, at least. Hopefully we’ll continue to grow it in the years to come.” He plucked the solitaire from the box and took my left hand, slipping it onto my ring finger. “I love you more than I could ever say.” His smile turned boyish and a little crooked. “And as someone once told me, when you have something precious in your hands, you need to hold on tight. Tonight, I’m asking to hold onto you forever. Will you marry me?”
Make Me Yours: The Bellamy Creek Series Page 31
