by Ellis, Aven
“You’re my Sunshine, Payton. I love you. I don’t want to love anyone but you.”
“I love you,” I say, moving my hands to his face. Brooks closes his eyes from my touch, and I gently press my lips against his. “I love you,” I whisper against his mouth. “Forever.”
“Forever,” he whispers back as he eases my mouth open in the sweetest kiss I’ve ever known.
Because it’s a kiss filled with love and hope.
The first kiss of our future together.
I break the kiss and gaze up at him. “You know that wallpaper in Sylvia’s kitchen? Her garden?”
“It’s an unforgettable wallpaper, Sunshine, but go on,” Brooks teases.
I laugh and he does, too.
“It’s beautiful,” I whisper. “And it’s our garden, Brooks.”
Brooks links his hands with mine. “I’m going to ask Sylvia if she will consider selling to me. With our wallpaper intact.”
My heart bursts with joy. The dream I had of us—in that very house with fur babies for now and babies in the years ahead—is going to be my future.
“Of course, I don’t have that kind of money right now, but if we came up with a plan for a future sale, I think she would,” Brooks says, running his hand over my hair.
“I think she absolutely will,” I say happily. “She wants a house filled with love. We can give it that.”
“Yes, we can,” Brooks says.
“I also told my family I was done trying to be perfect for them. And to back off my career.”
Brooks’ face beams with happiness.
“That’s brilliant. You didn’t deserve that, Payton, and I’m so proud of you for taking that stand.”
“No, I didn’t,” I say confidently. “I told them I had all the tools to be a successful adult, to trust me to live my life, and these were my choices to make, whether they were perfect or not. And I chose to be a blogger.”
“You chose not to be perfect?” Brooks asks.
I grin. “I choose to be perfectly imperfect.”
Brooks flashes me the biggest smile. “Perfectly imperfect, I love that. And I love you. Now will you please get me out of this hallway and into your apartment so I can show you how much I love you?”
I laugh and Brooks does, too. And as his lips find mine again, being imperfect has never felt so absolutely, utterly, fantastically perfect.
EPILOGUE
Six months later
Friday, December 22
Brooks quickly pulls open the door to Coffee By Jules and ushers me in from the cold. It’s freezing this evening, with the temperature hovering around thirty-nine degrees. We decided we wanted to grab some coffee and green tea before trying to squeeze in some last minute Christmas shopping.
I go inside, the bells clanking against the door as we do. The familiar New Age music has been replaced by holiday tunes, and twinkling strands of multi-colored lights are strung up on the ceiling. It’s festive and makes me smile. I definitely need to do a blog post on holiday shopping tea breaks and snap some pictures of this. I’ll do that tomorrow, I think.
“Perfect night, isn’t it?” Brooks asks, his deep voice interrupting my thoughts.
“Yes,” I say. I pause to breathe in the air, perfumed by fresh-brewed coffee, and smile. I still hate the drink but love the smell, much like on the day I met Brooks here six months ago.
Maureen is at the cash register and Brad is one of the baristas.
“Hey, guys,” Maureen calls out, “the usual?”
“The usual,” Brooks replies, nodding.
Brooks goes to pay for our drinks, and I study the assortment of holiday-themed treats in the display case as I unbutton my coat.
“Shall we get cookies?” I ask.
I turn and glance at Brooks, who is leaning across the counter, talking to Maureen in nearly a whisper.
“Brooks?”
He jerks his head back. “What?”
I laugh. “Are you complaining the brew isn’t dark enough?” I tease.
Both he and Maureen laugh.
“Guilty,” Brooks says, rubbing his hand across the back of his neck. “But I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you. What did you ask, Sunshine?”
“Do you want a sugar cookie?” I ask, wondering why he’s uncomfortable all of the sudden.
“A biscuit?” he corrects.
“No, a sugar cookie,” I tease. “You’re going to say cookie until we get to the UK next week. Then you can call a cookie a biscuit.”
Brooks laughs. “You’re impossible.”
“And you love it,” I insist.
“I do,” he says, his eyes locking on mine.
Happiness fills my heart. So much has changed in the past six months, and I’m happy to say it’s all been nothing short of spectacular.
I practically live with Brooks now. My lease with Whitney is up at the end of the month, and I’m going to move out and officially move into Brooks’ house. But the good news is Marlowe is going to move in and take my room, so I feel good about leaving Whitney with a friend as a roommate.
My blog had a huge spike after Trooping the Colour and the interview that ran after it, and I’ve added a bunch of new advertisers to my roster. And even better, Payton’s Take on Living has truly taken off, and I now added some new monthly features, like cookie of the month and candle of the month, and those have been very popular with readers and I’m able to target advertising on those days, too.
I still work exclusively for Courtney during the week. She’s not so much a client now, but a big sister. Brooks and I have dinner with her and Dan quite a bit, and it’s always fun. Even more so because we’ve introduced Mr. Not Bacon and Angus and they are play pals. So cookouts with all the kids—both human and pig—are common. And so much fun.
My relationship with Sophie has changed for the better, too. Now that everything is out in the open, we’re rediscovering each other as friends, which makes me happy. Mom and Dad haven’t brought up my career since the episode in the restaurant. While I know they wish I would do something else, I think they are finally letting go of their fears for my future. But as they say, Rome wasn’t built in a day. Mom still lives in her catalog world, but as long as she isn’t pushing me to move into those pages I’m fine.
I’m not going to lie. I haven’t quite given up all my perfectionist tendencies—I’ll still spend hours tweaking a blog post trying to get it just right—but thanks to Brooks, I see that I only waste time trying to chase something I’ll never achieve, or doing things I don’t enjoy because I think I should. I quit yoga. Best decision ever—and now Brooks and I take an early morning FlyWheel class, which I actually enjoy rather than dread.
Speaking of Brooks, all ghosts of his past have vanished. He knows I love him, I support him, and nothing will ever change that. He’s confident now with me. His parents came over for Thanksgiving last month and I absolutely adore them. I see now how Brooks grew up to be such an amazing man—and I know he’ll be a tremendous father when the time comes, too.
Brooks is doing well at the clinic, and the client roster seems to expand daily. His assistant at the clinic—Derna—is now dating Dr. Nesmith, and we’ve gone out with them, too. They are a fun couple, and we enjoy spending time with them.
But my favorite times of all are being at home with Brooks and our fur babies, watching Neflix with a bottle of wine and cuddled on the sofa. That is the time I treasure most of all.
I glance at Brooks, who has moved down to the counter to pick up our drinks when they’re ready. He’s talking to Brad now, but over the hiss of the espresso machines in front of me I can’t hear what they are saying.
I smile as I watch him, standing at the counter where we first met. Fate brought us together. And we’ve talked about our future and buying Sylvia’s house and when we’d have children.
We truly are forever, I think happily.
All because a new barista got our orders switched.
“Order for Payton and Brooks,” Brad s
ays, sliding two cups across the counter.
I leave the cookies behind and head over to pick up my drink. I grab the cup that says “Payton” on it, but I notice there are all kinds of check marks on boxes. I furrow my brow and inspect it closer, and to my shock, I realize the printing on the cup is customized:
√ One green tea latte with coconut milk and raw honey changed my life six months ago.
√ I love you. I love your bright light, your boundless energy, the way you don’t give an inch. The way you embrace me, just as I am. Your love for family and friends and this city we both love with all our hearts. You are my sunshine. I won’t share my life with anyone but you.
√ Will you marry me, Payton Elizabeth James?
My heart pounds inside my chest as I read the last sentence. My hand is shaking so bad tea begins to slosh out of the cup. I look up at Brooks, who takes the cup of tea from my hand and sets it on the countertop. And now he’s getting down on one knee in front of me, and . . . he is proposing to me right now!
“Payton Elizabeth James, I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Argue about pie for pudding. Keep that ridiculous wallpaper in our kitchen. Watch Sherlock with you. Take Angus for walks. Make dinner for you. I want all those moments to belong to us, but now as your husband.”
I’m crying as he retrieves a ring from his parka pocket. He opens a velvet box, holding a beautiful platinum and diamond engagement ring with a sapphire center stone.
One reminiscent of Kate Middleton’s.
Now I’m really crying, and I feel tears slide down my cheeks.
“It’s not Kate’s,” he says softly, his voice growing emotional. “But it’s your ring. Your take on Kate. And I would love nothing more than to place this on your finger if you will say yes. So will you marry me?”
“Yes,” I say, nodding excitedly. “Yes! I will marry you!”
Suddenly, cheers go up in the coffee shop, and Brooks slides the ring onto my shaking hand.
“You said yes, Sunshine.”
“I said yes,” I say happily. “And I’m never taking it back!”
Brooks stands up and kisses me, and more cheers go up around us. I hear the holiday music stop and suddenly “Signed, Sealed, Delivered, I’m Yours” starts playing. We stop kissing and laugh at the music choice. I cup his gorgeous face in my hands.
I gaze up into his brandy-colored eyes, the eyes of my fiancé.
“I love you,” I say happily.
“I love you, too,” Brooks says.
And as we kiss again, I see my future full of love, life, children, and lots and lots of animals with this man. It won’t be perfect. We’ll have ups and downs and days the house is a wreck and we’re exhausted from kids and pigs and you know what? We’ll handle it. Because we’ll have each other. We have love, friendship, support. We’re a team.
And we’re in this together. For the rest of our lives.
And that truly is absolutely perfect.
THE END
CONNECT WITH AVEN!
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OTHER BOOKS BY AVEN ELLIS:
Connectivity
Surviving The Rachel
Chronicles of a Lincoln Park Fashionista
Waiting For Prince Harry (Dallas Demons #1)
The Definition of Icing (Dallas Demons #2)
Breakout (Dallas Demons #3)
On Thin Ice (Dallas Demons #4)
The Aubrey Rules (Chicago on Ice #1)
Trivial Pursuits (Chicago on Ice #2)
