Page 88 of The Vineyard Crush

She sets down her fork, reaching out to take my hand. “Thank you for this. For everything. I never thought I’d have this kind of life, you know? A family, a home… love like this.”

The earnestness in her voice, the vulnerability in her eyes, it nearly undoes me. I lean in, capturing her lips in a soft, sweet kiss. “I love you, little flower. More than I ever thought possible.”

She smiles against my lips. “I love you too, Ridge McCords. Now, are you going to let me finish these pancakes, or do I need to kick you out too?”

I laugh, standing up. “Alright, alright. I know when I’m not wanted. Enjoy your breakfast, birthday girl. I’ll be downstairs when you’re ready.”

As I close the bedroom door behind me, I take a deep breath. The weight of the ring box in my pocket is a constant reminder of what’s to come. But first, we have a birthday to celebrate.

The rest of the morning passes in a blur of wrapping paper, excited squeals, and more sugar than is probably advisable before noon. Emma is radiant, her joy infectious as she opens each gift. From Lily, a handmade scrapbook filled with photos and mementoes of our time together. From Cody, a set of rare tea blends he’d sourced with James’s help. Avery presents her with a lumpy, misshapen clay pot she’d made at preschool, proudly declaring it perfect for growing “Emma’s special flowers.”

My gift is last – a delicate gold necklace with a small, heart-shaped pendant. As I fasten it around her neck, my fingers brush against her skin, and I feel her shiver.

“It’s beautiful,” she whispers, touching the pendant reverently.

“Not as beautiful as you,” I murmur, pressing a kiss to the nape of her neck.

The moment is broken by Lily’s excited voice. “Can we have cake now? Please?”

Emma laughs, turning to face the kids. “Cake for lunch? I don’t know…”

“Please?” chorus three voices, accompanied by what I can only describe as professional-grade puppy dog eyes.

“Oh, alright,” Emma relents, her eyes twinkling. “But just this once, because it’s my birthday.”

As we gather around the kitchen table, Emma at the head with a chocolate cake blazing with candles before her, I’m struck by how right this feels. How seamlessly Emma has woven herself into the fabric of our lives, filling gaps I didn’t even know existed.

We sing “Happy Birthday” again, this time with more gusto (and slightly off-key harmonies from Avery). As Emma leans forward to blow out the candles, her face aglow in the flickering light, I know that the time has come.

“Wait,” I say, just as she’s about to extinguish the flames. All eyes turn to me, confusion evident on their faces. “Before you make a wish, I have something I want to say.”

I take a deep breath, steeling myself. This is it. No turning back now.

“Emma Harrison” I begin, my voice surprisingly steady despite the nerves fluttering in my stomach. “From the moment you stumbled into my life with a plate of your mother’s pancakes, you’ve turned my world upside down in the best possible way.”

Emma’s eyes widen. Lily lets out a tiny squeal but quickly claps her hands over her mouth.

I continue, the words flowing now, straight from my heart. “You’ve brought light and laughter back into this house. You’ve loved my children as if they were your own. You’ve made me believe in second chances and happily ever afters.”

I reach into my pocket, withdrawing the small velvet box. Emma’s hand flies to her mouth, tears welling in her eyes.

“I can’t imagine my life without you in it,” I say, sinking to one knee beside her chair. “And I don’t want to. Emma, will you marry me? Will you be my wife, my partner, the mother to our children?”

I open the box, revealing the ring – a vintage-inspired piece with a cushion-cut diamond surrounded by a halo of smaller stones. It had belonged to my grandmother, and the moment I’d seen it, I’d known it was meant for Emma.

For a moment, the only sound in the kitchen is the soft crackle of the candles and Emma’s shaky breath. Then, with tears streaming down her face, she nods.

“Yes,” she whispers, then louder, “Yes! Of course, yes!”

The kitchen erupts in cheers as I slide the ring onto Emma’s finger. It fits perfectly as if it was always meant to be there. I stand, pulling Emma into my arms and kissing her deeply, pouring all my love and joy into the embrace.

When we finally part, both a little breathless, we’re surrounded by the kids. Lily is bouncing up and down, her excitement palpable. Cody has a rare, wide smile on his face. And little Avery is tugging on Emma’s shirt, asking, “Does this mean you’re our real mommy now?”

Emma kneels, gathering Avery into her arms. “Sweetheart, I’ve been your real mommy in my heart for a long time now. This just makes it official.”

As I watch Emma hug each of the kids in turn, reassuring them and answering their eager questions, I feel a sense of completeness I’ve never known before. This is my family – messy, imperfect, and absolutely perfect.

The cake sits forgotten on the table, its candles now little more than puddles of wax. But it doesn’t matter. We have something far sweeter to celebrate.

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