by Amanda Cowen
I pass by the usual coffee shops, restaurants and stores, enjoying every moment of this beautiful city we’ve made our home. As I walk up the steps to our townhouse, I anticipate the warm taste of Cash’s skin on my tongue. His hands weaving into my hair as I work his boxers down his hips. I even fantasize about the desperate relief I will see in his eyes when I pick him up at the airport—because he missed me. I’ll probably melt instantly from his touch.
Counting the minutes until I see him, I push open the front door into a dark and empty foyer. I flick on the light switch in the dark foyer, but nothing happens. That’s weird. The lightbulb must be burnt out. I place my school bag down on the floor, slide off my jacket, and kick off my snow-dusted boots.
“Bexley?” I call out, padding forward in my bare feet
Strange. Usually she’s jumping up on me as soon as I walk through the door.
A soft glow crawls across the floor boards as I round the corner. I freeze in my tracks when I step into the living room. Candles consume the entire living space. Just like they would on an episode of The Bachelor. They cover the coffee table, fireplace mantel, floor, end tables, bookcases. EVERYWHERE. I look down when I feel my toes brush against velvety rose petals sprinkled all over the floor. I’m in awe. I take a cautious step forward and see a brown box tied with pink ribbon on the table. On the top of the box, I spot words in black marker in Cash’s familiar messy handwriting: OPEN ME.
What the heck is going on?
I pick up the package with trembling fingers, pulling it onto the couch with me. I tear through the brown paper wrapping and pink ribbon to reveal an old shoebox with a note on top.
Mittens, in you, I found a love I never believed could be real or I’d be so lucky to have. I can’t remember how I ever lived without you.
My heart races as my mind tries to figure out if this means what I think it does. Inside the shoebox is a single pink-frosted cupcake and another note.
I wooed you once. And I plan on wooing you the rest of our lives if you’ll have me.
I glance toward the corner of our kitchen where I see dozens more cupcakes on the countertop. They’re shaped into a giant pink heart. I reached for my cell to call Cash, but then the doorbell rings, and I rush to answer the door.
“Nadia?” I cock my head and eye the box she’s holding in her arms.
“Don’t ask questions. Just accept the box.” She holds the package out.
I grab it as confusion skates through my head. “Seriously, what’s going on?”
“I’m not at liberty to say.” Nadia gives me a big smile. “Now close the door in my face and open that box.”
“Okay…” I answer slowly, before leaving her outside and returning to my seat on the couch. I tear through the same brown paper wrapping to reveal another box with a note on top.
You are my best friend, my lucky charm, and my very own personal cheerleader. Every day I can’t believe how incredibly lucky I am to share my life with you.
I open the lid to reveal seven individually framed photos. The first two are the Men’s Health magazine photos of us. The third is the beautiful family photo from the Sports Times magazine interview with Lyndsey and Louis. He knows how much I love this photo. He chose some of my favorites of us together, the day we got the keys to our home, us fishing in Newfoundland, and us sitting on the beach in Santa Anna. I pull out the last frame, only to have the photo take my breath away. It’s a photo of Cash leaning over the penalty box glass at the Bexley Bruisers game and me staring up at him wearing a pair of white wool mittens—the very first time we met. It’s an aerial shot, clearly taken by a fan or the media. But how the hell did he manage to get this?
I hear the sound of the doorbell ringing again and jump from the sofa. I find Nadia still standing outside, with another package in tow. “Nadia, seriously. What’s going on?”
“I told you. I’m not at liberty to say.” She shoves the small box at me, and this time she steps inside.
I sink down on the bench in the entryway, peeling the wrapping back.
Your passion and drive are my everyday inspiration. You taught me to believe in myself, just like I believe in you.
Inside is a key, with a little note attached to it.
You are so incredibly talented. Enjoy this room to grow and build your business. Third door on the left.
I bolt up the stairs, put the key into the lock, and push open the door of the third bedroom that we’ve been using as a makeshift storage room. When I step inside, my heart catches in my throat. Tears spill from my eyes. He’s transformed the room into a jewelry studio. How the hell did he do this without me knowing? There is a work table, unlimited storage, an idea board, and room for all of my tools and equipment.
A quick knock on the bedroom door, and I don’t even attempt to wipe my eyes before I turn around.
“Me again,” Nadia says with a smile.
“Nadia, what the hell is going on?” I nervously laugh with the tears still rolling.
“Close your eyes,” she demands.
I laugh out loud. “And why should I trust you?”
“Because I’m your friend.” She grins. “Now close them.”
I roll my eyes before I squeeze them shut. Nadia holds my hand and guides me out of the room, down the hall and into another room.
“Don’t open your eyes yet,” she warns.
“Okay.”
I can hear her unlatch the balcony doors. Without opening my eyes, I know I am standing in our bedroom.
“One last thing,” Nadia says. “Open your eyes and take these.” She’s holding out a pair of white wool mittens.
I laugh. “Now why would I need these?” I slide them into my back pocket, skeptical.
She nudges me toward the balcony doors. “Out you go.”
When she slips away, closing the bedroom door behind her, I walk out toward the balcony overlooking our backyard. My mouth opens as I eye the ground below.
WILL YOU MARRY ME? is written in the snow. The letters are so huge you could probably see them from space.
I spin around, tears falling from my eyes.
Cash is bent on one knee, holding out a tiny black box with a gorgeous vintage glistening ring inside of it. “I feel like everything in my life has led me to you. My choices, my heartbreaks, my regrets. Everything. You loved me when I couldn’t even love myself. You make me a better man and I want to spend the rest of my life with you.” The sound of his voice melts through my every pore. “You are my everything, Quinn. Will you—”
“Yes!”
“Manners, Mittens,” he says, his trademark dimples flashing, “Yes, what?”
“Yes! Please! I will so marry you!” I’m shaking, trembling as I take the last few steps to him, over the span of what feels like a million rapid-fire heartbeats.
He slips the gorgeous three-carat diamond ring onto my finger.
“Quinn…” He looks up at me as I step so close I can see the pulse in his throat. “I love you so much.” He stands and reaches forward, gripping my waist. “I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you.”
“I love you too.” I lick my lips and then bite the lower one. “I can’t wait either.”
He places a kiss on my forehead and reaches into my back pocket, pulling out the pair of mittens Nadia gave me. He slides them on my hands, covering my sparkly new diamond ring.
The room falls quiet and with a little smile, his lips pull into a kissable curve. And just like the very moment we met at the arena, he’s successfully taken my breath away.
“I love all the candles. The notes. The cupcakes. The photos. The jewelry studio. The proposal.” I gush, looking up at him. “How did you manage to do all this without me knowing?”
He holds me at arms’ length so he can look down at my face. “During exams you’re the most focused person I know. You’re oblivious to everything except studying. It was easy.”
Laughing, I agree with a nod. “You know me too well.”
“I should hope so. I�
�m your fiancé and soon to be your husband.”
“I like the sound of that...my husband.” I kiss him, a glancing touch across his lips. I mean it to be small, but his mouth opens and the sound that escapes is a moan.
It’s the sexiest sound I’ve ever heard him make because it’s so raw. In an instant his tongue is sliding over my lips, my teeth, my tongue and his hungry growly noises are filling my head. He slides his hands down my body and presses his palm to the front of my jeans. Under his touch I melt, needing him so much it feels like a match has been lit beneath my skin.
He’s staring right at my face, straight into my eyes. Our faces are close enough that we’re sharing a breath, back and forth. He lifts his chin slightly and he’s kissing me, and it’s so intense somehow, but I can’t look away. For as long as we’ve been together, I’ve never felt this. Like a burst of insatiable love and this overwhelming moment of clarity and peace that he is my forever. This feeling is so much larger than ever before.
“You’re my forever,” I tell him.
He smiles. “And you’re mine.”
Our crazy love hits me in a burst: I’m engaged to Cash.
We are two imperfect people who refused to give up on each other. We chose each other. And we will always choose each other over and over again. Without pauses. Without a doubt. In a heartbeat.
“I’ve got one more surprise.” He brings my hands together and kisses the top of my mittens.
Laughing, I go up on my tippy toes and kiss his throat. He smells like shampoo and the spicy smell I can’t forget in a million years: cinnamon and honey. He takes a step back and lifts up his shirt, revealing his abdomen and ribcage, with the words AMOUR PARFAIT and two dates below inked into his skin. I groan at the sight of his bare skin, golden and smooth.
He runs his palms from my hips to my breasts and back again, pulling me forward into him. “The first date is the day we met. The second one is today, the day I asked you to be my wife.” He points to a spot below the second tattoo. “And this is where I’ll add our wedding date.”
“I love it,” I say into the warm skin of his chest. I run my fingers along the words AMOUR PARFAIT, and look up at him. “What does that mean?” I ask.
He smirks, showcasing his lickable dimples. “‘Perfect love.’ Because you make my life perfect.”
Epilogue
Quinn
Eighteen months later
The wedding photographer walks past me, snapping a few photos before bending to ask, “Think I could get some shots of the whole family now?”
Cash wraps his arms around my waist and slides them over my belly. He nestles his chin against the top of my head and lets out a contented sigh.
The photographer motions us over to join the bride and groom standing on a giant rock overlooking the ocean. White-capped waves crash against it, and the sun beams fiercely around the newlyweds.
Cash kisses the top of my head. “We’d better head over.”
I slide my hand into his, but complain anyway. “This Caribbean heat makes me feel nauseous. I’m sure Lyndsey won’t mind if her pregnant matron-of-honor sits out of the next few shots.” I shift my eyes to him, hopeful.
“Have you met your sister? She’s a fearsome bridezilla. She could cross-check you at a moment’s notice if you even try to make a run for it.”
Only Lyndsey would get married on a private Caribbean beach in the height of summer. Had I known I’d be four months pregnant on her wedding day, I would have begged her and Louis to wait another year to get married or at least have suggested a much cooler destination. Like Antarctica.
“Our baby is sucking all the life out of me.” I lean into his shoulder. “You did this to me.”
“How sweet of you to remind me.” He smirks down at me, with that knowing look in his eye.
The look tells me his dirty mind is scrolling through images of us. Him tugging my hair, his body moving over mine for hours, my voice low and begging for his teeth, his nails, and his kisses. Both of us sweaty and exhausted. And then suddenly the reality that those incredibly intimate and satisfying moments as husband and wife gave us this incredible miracle growing inside me.
“I’m serious,” I say. “I think parenthood is going to be amazing, but I also feel like we’re on this crazy rollercoaster that we can’t get off and we’re headed toward a lifetime of insanity.”
“Technically, we’re not parents yet.” Cash bends to kiss my nose. “But when that baby pops out, I know we’re going to be great.”
“I hope so, but that still doesn’t help with the fact that right now I’m sweating like a pig.”
Cash rolls his eyes, pulling me toward Lyndsey, Louis, and my father. He’s become immune to my pregnancy-brain complaints. I’m lucky he’s learned to differentiate between my hormones and when he actually needs to be sympathetic.
Clearly, right now it’s my hormones talking. This day has been absolutely magical. Lyndsey is a picture-perfect bride. Long flowing hair, a gorgeous white mermaid-style gown, and sun-kissed skin. Louis hasn’t stopped smiling from the moment our plane landed on the island. He looks handsome in his fitted light-gray linen suit, and during the ceremony, tears tumbled from his sweet hazel eyes.
“Just think, as soon as we get a few family shots, we can head up to our air-conditioned room.” Cash wiggles his eyebrows at me. “I’ll give your swollen feet a nice rubdown, and maybe we can have a quick nap before the reception starts.”
“I love it when you talk dirty to me like that,” I tease.
Cash laughs. “Oh, how things have changed.”
“For the better?” I ask.
“Nah, Mittens, for the best. Not only are you my wife. You’ve got our baby in your belly.”
A thrill runs from my chest, down my belly, and pulses in my heart. “Yes. Yes, I do.”
I close my eyes as he leans close and grazes his teeth over my jaw. “I love you so fucking much, my sexy, sweet Mittens.” He kisses me and then helps me climb up the rock, cupping my butt possessively as he hoists me to safety.
“Quinn, I want you standing beside me,” Lyndsey says, waving me closer. “And Dad, I want you standing beside Louis.”
Our father drapes his arm around Louis’s shoulder and glances over at me and Cash with a proud grin. It’s been a long and bumpy road, but Dad has totally come around and can proudly sit back, relax, and know his girls are well taken care of. In the past six months, Hilton Ashby has married off both his daughters to two amazing men and hockey players. He’s even about to become a first-time grandfather.
“What a beautiful family,” the photographer gushes.
We all smile during the repeated flash of the camera. I quickly glance around at my family— Lyndsey, Louis, Hilton, and Cash. As I stroke my baby bump, I feel this overwhelming fulfilment. Happy tears prick my eyes, and my chest is suddenly so tight it’s hard to breathe. I love them all so much. I am so incredibly thankful for each and every one of them.
“You okay?” Cash whispers.
“I’m just pleasantly overwhelmed,” I murmur.
“Don’t worry.” Cash’s smile straightens into a determined expression, and his eyes move over my face in that way that feels like a caress. “We’ve totally got this, Mittens” He taps the part of his ribcage where his Amour Parfait/Perfect Love tattoo is etched on his skin.
I lean back against his shoulder, and he wraps his strong, protective hand around mine.
THE END
