Page 59 of Forbidden Pawn

“And I’ve been waiting for the right moment to…” I take a breath and drop on one knee, pulling out a velvet box with a sparkling diamond ring. The ring catches the last rays of the sun, sending flashes of light from the delicate band set with a flawless round diamond, nestled by smaller stones that make it gleam like something out of a dream.

“June Collins,” I say, my voice steady despite my pounding heart. “You have been the biggest surprise of my life, and the best. I didn’t see you coming, but I now know that I needed to meet you. You literally made me a better man. You are the single most important person in my life, and that will never change. Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

Her eyes widen, her mouth falling open, and for a fleeting second, I think she might say no. But then she lets out a loud, joyful scream.

“Yes! Oh my God, Ryker!” She falls into my arms, her voice thick with happy tears. “Yes, yes, yes!”

Relief floods me, and I pull her close, our lips meeting in a kiss that feels like everything I’ve ever needed. Her warm lips on mine, her tender hands on me, her delicate body pressed againstmine, and to wake up to that beautiful smile for the rest of my life — that is all I need, and all I will ever want.

She finally pulls back, laughing, her eyes still damp as she looks around the terrace. “So, this is already yours?”

“Ours,” I correct, touching her cheek. “This is our home, June.”

She raises an eyebrow, mischief glinting in her gaze. “So, we can do whatever we want here?”

I grin. “Yes. Absolutely anything.”

Her eyes drift to the pool. “You think it’s too cold for a little swim?”

I laugh, and my hands slide down to her waist.

“Not at all,” I say, my voice low as I pull her close. “I will keep you warm.”

Epilog

June

The cemetery gates come into view as the car slows, and I can’t help but feel a quiet anticipation building.

Glancing at the ring on my finger, I think back to Ryker’s proposal and how perfectly he planned everything. It was exactly the way I would’ve wanted it, a surprise woven in with all the love and comfort we’ve found together.

More than anything, though, it’s been sharing the memories of our parents that has brought us closer than I ever expected. Through his stories about his mother, I understood the depth of his loss. It’s so different from my own grief, but it has brought us closer, like we’ve found comfort in carrying pieces of our loved ones with us together. I never thought losing my father would connect me to someone else so deeply, but in Ryker, I found someone who understands.

I wanted a way to show him just how much he means to me, and Enzo has helped me plan it all perfectly.

“Thank you, Enzo,” I say as he pulls the car to a halt outside the gates. Enzo’s been my accomplice from the start, running around the city with me, making sure every detail was set. I step out, and we share a quick wink—a gesture that doesn’t go unnoticed by Ryker.

“Anything I should know about?” he asks, one eyebrow raised in playful suspicion.

I laugh, slipping my arm through his. “I like it when you get jealous.”

He pulls me a little closer, placing a warm kiss on my forehead.

“I don’t,” he murmurs. “I don’t like the idea of sharing you.”

I meet his gaze, my heart full.

“You won’t have to,” I assure him, squeezing his arm. “Come on, let’s go see your mom.”

We start down the familiar path, hand in hand. The late afternoon light filters through the trees, casting soft shadows over the headstones. The air feels peaceful, and I’m filled with quiet excitement. With each step, we’re getting closer to the surprise I’ve planned. I wanted something that would honor his mother and show him how much he’s changed my life. As we approach the path to her grave, I steal a glance at Ryker, my heart swelling with gratitude and love.

Ryker’s shoulders sag a little as we walk, the familiar way he carries himself every time we visit. His grief mirrors mine, still there beneath the surface, something we’ve both learned to live with but never let go of. These visits help, somehow, and I feel his hand tighten around mine as we draw nearer. My heart is pounding, nerves sparking in my chest as I think about what I’ve done, hoping he’ll love it as much as I do.

Then, as his mother’s grave comes into sight, his posture shifts. He stops short, his back straightening, eyes wide with surprise.

“What the…” he breathes, his voice trailing off. I gently nudge him to move closer, barely able to contain my excitement.

We step up to the grave, and Ryker just stares at the headstone and its surrounding, speechless. I’ve transformed it into a tiny garden, framed by a delicate white picket fence. Inside, a bed of fresh wildflowers blooms—a blend of daisies, lavender, and forget-me-nots, carefully arranged to fill the space with color and life. Small stones and trinkets are nestled among the flowers, and there’s even a tiny ceramic house at the base of the fence, whimsical and quaint, like something from a storybook.

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