by Nora Roberts
“Del.” She couldn’t get her breath. “You can’t—Your mother’s ring. Parker.”
“I woke her before I woke you. She’s good with it. She said to tell you don’t be stupid. Our parents loved you.”
“Oh, damn it.”The tears simply flooded her face. “I don’t want to cry. I can’t help it.”
“You’re the only one I’ve ever thought about asking to wear this. The only one I want to wear it. I’ve just driven all the way to Greenwich and back to get it for you. To give it to you because you’re the only one. Marry me, Laurel.”
“I won’t be stupid. Kiss me again first, when I’m not wishing I didn’t love you.”
She felt the sea breeze on her skin, in her hair as their lips met, and the strong, steady beat of his heart against hers. And heard the whistles and cheers.
Turning her head so her cheek rested on his, she saw the group gathered on the deck of the house above. “Parker woke everyone up.
“Well, ours has always been a family affair.” He drew back. “Ready?”
“Yes. I’m absolutely and completely ready.”
The ring he slid on her finger sparkled in the first beams of the sun while the eastern sky blossomed like a rose. A moment, she thought, to savor, then sealed their moment with another kiss.
“This is the right time,” she told him. “This is a good place. Tell me one more time I’m the one.”
“You’re the one.” He cupped her face again. “The only one.”
The one, she thought, on this fresh new day. And the one through all the days after.
Hand in hand, they started back up the steps to share the next moments with family.
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