by Jillian Dodd
Matt holds her by the collar, and it’s then I notice something dangling from it.
A small box.
He unclips it and hands it to me.
“This is from both of us,” he says.
I inhale sharply, holding the breath in.
The box is … the right size.
No, Kitty, don’t let your imagination go there. It’s probably a dog tag with our new combined address on it.
But when I open the lid, a flash of light catches my eye. Glimmering in the box is a beautiful diamond ring. And when I look up, Matt has gotten up from his position, lounging on the rug, and is on bended knee in front of me.
Tears fill my eyes.
Because I know. I know this is finally that moment I’ve written so many times. That perfect moment when time stops and your life begins anew.
“Kathryn Antoinette Valentine, I think I’ve loved you since the day you literally stumbled into my life. And I want more than anything to be your endgame. I don’t want our happy ending to be the end of the story. I want you happily living with me forever as my partner, my wife, my love. Will you marry—”
He doesn’t get the words out before I launch myself at him, throw my arms around his neck, and kiss him.
Tears are streaming down my face, incredibly happy ones, but we’re alone, there’s a fire, and we’re on a new, soft rug.
No reason there can’t be a little sexy times in our happy ending.
Quite a while later, we’re still on the rug, our limbs tangled together, as Matt runs lazy little kisses down my neck. “You know, you never answered the question,” he says. “Did you just use me for sex, and now, you’re going to leave me?”
“Hardly.”
He laughs. “Hard or hardly?”
“I’d say, it was a little of both,” I tease.
I sit up, pulling a throw around my naked chest, and look down at him. He looks so beautiful, lying there. My hot neighbor Matt. My future husband Matt. My forever Matt.
I often write about those three little words—I love you—and I treat them like they are the most powerful words in the game. But I don’t think I’ve ever really grasped how much more powerful four little words can be—Will you marry me?
“Yes,” I say.
He takes the ring out of the box and slips it on my finger, sealing the deal.
“Do you like it?” he asks, his eyes landing on the ring.
“It’s breathtaking. The stone is different. So simplistic. So large.”
“It’s an old cut. A rose cut,” he says, sliding his hand across mine. “The stone is vintage.”
“Vintage?”
“Yes, but the setting is new. Designed for you. By me. With a whole lot of input from Hayley and your grandmother.”
“Wait. They know? And they kept it from me?” My eyes are wide, and I’m so shocked.
“They do. In fact, they’ve been waiting outside all this time for me to propose. Probably getting a little cold out there with the snow and whatnot. Especially since you attacked me.” He grins.
“Matt!”
He smirks at me.
“Oh, I hate you.” I swat my hand through the air in his direction.
He grabs it and pulls me close. “No, you don’t. Because you just promised to love me forever.”
“Um, no. Technically, I agreed to marry you. That’s where the forever comes into play.”
“Either way, we should celebrate.” He pours us each another glass of champagne. “To us,” he says.
And, well, I have to drink to that.
But as soon as I’m done, he takes my glass away and says, “We have to get dressed.”
“Why?” I say, lying back down. “I’m so perfectly happy being naked.”
“Because it’s Christmas Eve and we’re celebrating with your grandmother and Peter?”
“Oh shoot, that’s right!”
I get myself back into my new, festive dress and am ready to go in record time. A look in the mirror reflects a girl who is insanely happy. And who can’t wait to share the news.
Even though I suppose they already technically know.
“Can I call Hayley?” I ask once we’re loaded into the black town car that was waiting at the curb. One that, apparently, Grandmother has had ordered for us—and by us, I mean, me, Matt, Phoebe, Maggie the cat, and our shopping bags full of gifts.
We get all of us and all our stuff into the foyer, set it down, and step into the great room.
“Surprise!” a bunch of people yell out.
And one of them is Hayley. She throws her arms around me, tears streaming down her face. “Not to steal any of your thunder,” she says, “but not only am I here”—she holds up her left hand in front of her face—“but I just got engaged too!”
“This is the best Christmas Eve ever. Wait. What are you doing here? You were in California.”
“I lied.”
I give Nicholas a hug and congratulate him. Everyone is here. Kylie and Zack. Lois and Maggie both make an appearance. Grandmother and Peter are thrilled for us.
We are toasted to and honored by their love.
A few minutes before we’re supposed to sit down for dinner, the doorbell rings.
Matt excitedly drags me to it and opens the door.
“Kitty, meet my family,” he says, ushering them in. “Family, meet Kitty, my fiancée.”
Matt’s family is wonderful, and they fit right in. Of course, they knew he was proposing, like everyone but me. His parents are gracious, and I can already tell that my grandmother loves them. Of course, the fact that they are all handsome like Matt and well dressed with good manners doesn’t hurt. Besides his parents, Michelle and Edward, there’s his brother, Mark; his wife, Shelly; and their two kids, Lucy and Paul.
We have a delicious celebratory meal, and I float through the night on a cloud of happiness mixed with a lot of toasts with champagne.
After dinner, Grandmother pulls me aside.
“I want to tell you about your ring,” she says.
That causes me to sit down quickly on the couch next to us.
“Well, the stone anyway. The stone was my grandmother’s, who, at a time when marriages were often arranged, married for love. They lived a long and happy life together, and she bore three daughters and five sons. Her husband was a bit of a gambler and started a business at the right time, and they became fabulously wealthy. He gave her this diamond for their thirtieth wedding anniversary. When Matt came and asked me for your hand in marriage—”
“He did that?”
“Of course he did. I offered to pay for your ring. He refused, as I had known he would, so I offered him this stone. Told him he could have it set however he wanted. He liked the fact that the stone didn’t look like all the other diamonds he had been looking at and said it was perfect for you. The rest is history.” She takes my hand in hers and examines the ring. “The setting is beautiful. Simple and stunning. Just like you.” Her eyes get teary, and just when I think she’s about to get more emotional, she says, “So, have you set a date yet? You must start planning the wedding.”
“Actually, Grandmother,” I say, “I was thinking that we could start planning it.”
“Oh, Kitty,” she says, covering my hand with hers.
I can tell she’s touched, and I’m pretty touched by the fact that for the first time in my life, she called me what my mother had—Kitty.
The next morning, I wake up next to Matt in our beautiful, new bedroom in our four-poster bed. I don’t really remember getting into bed. I was exhausted from the festivities and the rush of all that had happened.
I pull my left hand out from under the covers and check to see if last night was real.
I’m happy to report that the ring is still there.
And this spring, I’m going to marry my hot neighbor. But I’m not going to write a book about it.
I don’t think.
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London Prep Series (New series!)
New exchange student Mallory is causing quite the stir at London Prep -- specifically with best friends Harry and Noah. Their fast friendship makes way for a tricky love triangle in this entertaining tale of high school drama!
London Prep
London Prep: Book Two
London Prep: Book Three
London Prep: Book Four
The Keatyn Chronicles®
Discover a breathless fairy-tale romance with swoon-worthy characters, suspense, and a glittering celebrity world. Fans of Gossip Girl, Pretty Little Liars, and reality TV will devour this pulse-pounding, sexy teen drama set against the backdrop of Hollywood and an East Coast boarding school. A USA TODAY BEST-SELLING SERIES.
Stalk Me
Kiss Me
Date Me
Love Me
Adore Me
Hate Me
Get Me
Fame
Power
Money
Sex
Love
Keatyn Unscripted
Aiden
That Boy Series
Small-town contemporary romance series about falling in love with the boy next door.
That Boy
That Wedding
That Baby
That Love
That Ring
That Summer
That Promise
Kitty Valentine (New chick lit series!)
When author Kitty Valentine’s latest novel totally bombs, her editor suggests she dates different kinds of men for inspiration.
Kitty Valentine dates a Billionaire
Kitty Valentine dates a Doctor
Kitty Valentine dates a Rockstar
Kitty Valentine dates a Fireman
Kitty Valentine dates an Actor
Kitty Valentine dates the Best Man Kitty Valentine dates a Cowboy
Kitty Valentine dates a Hockey Player
Kitty Valentine dates Santa
The Love Series
Caught up in a firestorm of tabloid gossip, actress Ashlyn Roberts doesn’t expect to end up in Vegas — or to wake up married to the sexy Cash Crawford. A USA TODAY BEST SELLER.
Vegas Love
Does catching the garter and bouquet at a wedding really mean you belong together? For Palmer and Cade it could be the second chance they’re looking for in this sexy romance.
Broken Love
And coming soon…. When the girl that got away shows up at Carter Crawford’s door and asks him to pretend to be in love with her at her sister’s wedding, will he be pretending?
Fake Love
Spy Girl® Series
A sizzling romance series filled with action and adventure. Fans of The Selection and The Hunger Games will discover a heart-pounding thrill ride of espionage and suspense set in glittering high society. (And there’s a really handsome prince.)
The Prince
The Eagle
The Society
The Valiant
The Dauntless
The Phoenix
The Echelon
Girl off the Grid
Thrown together on an eco-trip to Costa Rica, fashion blogger Camille and photographer Adam instantly hate each other. But as they journey off the grid together, they realize there’s a fine line between love and hate.
Books by my daughter, Kenzie Hart. Also FREE with Kindle Unlimited.
The Curious Swan
A sweet, whimsical romance set in the English countryside with a Jane Austen/Alice in Wonderland vibe.
I Fall Apart
This beautiful love story told in verse will take you an emotional journey—from the happiness of falling in love to the sadness of heartbreak.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Jillian Dodd is the USA Today best-selling author of more than thirty novels.
She writes fun romances with characters her readers fall in love with—from the boy next door in the That Boy trilogy to the daughter of a famous actress in The Keatyn Chronicles to a spy who might save the world in the Spy Girl series.
She adores writing big fat happily ever afters, wears a lot of pink, buys too many shoes, loves to travel, and is distracted by anything covered in glitter.
Excerpt of London Prep:
I’m on my way out the door with a set of keys to the house I’ll be staying in during my three-week school exchange in London and directions to the school written out on a piece of paper. I tried to tell Helen, my host, that, growing up in the city, I have a pretty easy time finding my way around, but she insisted on giving me written directions regardless. She also marked a few cafés on her makeshift map, telling me that I must stop for a scone and tea after.
School is only a few blocks away from their home, and it doesn’t take much to figure out that the building I’m standing in front of is Kensington School. It’s an imposing structure with classic lines, looking as if it could have had a former life as a house built for nobility, its borders guarded by an iron gate.
Honestly, it’s beautiful.
Greenery grows up one of the stone walls, and I walk through a brick archway into a central courtyard. There is a large oak tree in the middle with a circular bench built around it. The walls of the building climb up into the sky, and I take a moment to appreciate it.
My school in New York isn’t anything like this. It’s modern and industrial. It professes to promote creativity and the future, doing away with traditions and aged character. I love that about my school. It’s progressive and new.
But something about this school makes me feel happy. And the thought of walking through this courtyard tomorrow, dressed in the school uniform, hearing the faint sounds of the city moving on all around us but almost being both trapped and set free in this living piece of history, is … well, exciting.
I swallow hard, surprised at myself. I shift my gaze from the building, trying to discern which of the numerous doors to enter through. I walk a few steps, and then one of them opens. I can only assume that the large, round woman standing in the doorway is Ms. Adams.
“Miss James?” she questions, taking a few steps closer to me as I nod in affirmation. “I’m Ms. Adams, school administrator. It’s nice to meet you.” She shakes my hand. She doesn’t have a firm grip, but it isn’t the softest either. She’s wearing a thick wool skirt, topped with a brown sweater, and her formality is comforting.
“Nice to meet you,” I say, taking my hand back.
“Now, if you’d like to follow me to the office, we will get you all sorted out.”
She turns, leading me into the building. It’s just as beautiful on the inside as it is on the outside. I love the old stone walls and thick wooden moldings. She turns a corner, taking me into a room that branches off into offices. A moment later, she has me seated at her desk.
“Would you like a cup of tea?” she asks, turning on a kettle.
“I’m all right. Thank you though,” I reply politely.
She looks a little taken aback by my answer but gives me a nod before proceeding to sit in silence until her kettle rings out, and then she has a cup of steaming water in front of her.
It’s possible that she already doesn’t like me simply because I don’t like tea.
“Now then, I won’t keep you too long, as it’s Sunday and I want you to get settled in. I’ve got a packet here for you,” she says, handing me a thick brown envelope, “that I thought we might go through together. First off is your schedule. You’ll be taking Statistics, Latin, Art, and Geography. Those classes run every day and then are
shortened on Tuesdays and Thursdays to account for sports. You’ll have to choose one sport, and I’ve included the list of options here.”
She gestures to another piece of paper on the desk before flipping it over and looking at the next one, moving at a fast clip. “You’ll be expected to attend all classes. If you’re ill, please have your host family contact the school. You’ll need your student card for lunch, as it runs as a charge card. Your class schedule is listed here with buildings and room numbers along with a map. This sheet has your locker information on it. You’re in locker number seventy-five on the main floor, and here,” she says, pointing, “is the combination. We’ve already put your textbooks for classes in it, so they will be there, waiting for you in the morning. Be sure to take the appropriate one with you to each class.”
I nod my head, following along. So far, all she’s rambled on about is the schedule and locker, and those things are pretty standard.
“As for your uniforms, we have a school spirit shop at the far end of campus. I’ll escort you there now to get your uniforms sorted out. Pick out whatever you like, and again, it can be directly charged to your student card. We will have it packed up and delivered to your host home this evening so that you’re prepared for school tomorrow. Please read over the list of rules, which includes regulations on the dress code.
“We have a full-time counselor on staff, and if you’re having trouble adjusting or need someone to talk to, she is the one to contact. We’ve put you with the Williams family, as you already know. This is advantageous to you, as their son, Noah, is also in your year and can help guide you through daily life at Kensington.”
