Page 130 of That Reunited Feeling

Her chest heaves as she moves the ring from side to side, the sunlight glinting off it at all angles. “It’s so beautiful.”

“Is that a yes?” I get to my feet and cup her face.

She nods. “Yes. I want to be in your force field forever.”

I drop my lips to hers. They are soft and warm and salty and right where mine belong.

My fiancée wraps her arms around my neck as I circle her waist and draw her to me, wallowing in the long, slow, deep kiss, full of love and life and our futures.

“Oh, yuck.” Dylan’s hanging out of an upstairs window. “I asked you not to make out.”

Hannah shields her eyes from the sun as she looks up at him. “Come down here. We have some news.”

Thirty seconds later, Dylan steps out onto the patio, carrying a guitar.

Shit.

Now the order I’d planned to do things in is shot to pieces. But with a teenager around, I guess I’m going to have to learn to go with the flow.

“I found this.” He holds up the guitar. “In the closet of the room I want. Did someone leave it behind?”

I dip my mouth to Hannah’s ear. “You’re not the only person I need to propose to.”

She clutches her heart and gives me puppy dog eyes.

Turning back to Dylan, I say, “Bring it over. I’ll tell you about it.”

And this part might be even more nerve-racking than proposing to Hannah.

“Let’s sit down here.” I take the guitar from him as we park ourselves on the bench that looks out at the view, and rest it across my lap. “I need to talk to you about something serious for a minute.”

He looks horrified, wounded. “Am I in trouble?” Then drops into a sulk. “I haven’t done anything wrong.”

“I know. We’re so proud of you. I just need to ask you something.”

I rest my hands on the guitar and take a deep breath. If this goes wrong, Hannah will have that ring off her finger in a flash.

“I love your mom very much. And I want to spend the rest of my life with her. But that means I’ll be inflicting myself on you too. So, just like I needed to propose to your mom and ask her if she’d be my wife, I need to propose to you and ask you if you’ll be my stepson. Will you?”

There’s a gasp and a sob and a sniff from the spot just over my shoulder where Hannah’s standing. I have to force myself to keep looking at Dylan. If I make eye contact with Hannah right now, I’ll be as much of a blubbering mess as she undoubtedly is.

“Hell, yes,” Dylan says, like it’s the most absurd question in the world. “You’re the coolest, with the studios and everything.”

Well, that’s a relief.

“Except.” He holds up a finger. “Your bike helmet obsession. Not that cool.”

Hannah’s hand lands on my shoulder. Warmth radiates from her touch to every corner of my body. A warmth that will last forever. “Let’s not criticize Tom for wanting to keep your skull in one piece.”

“Anyway.” I run my fingers over the guitar strings. “I gave your mom an engagement ring. And I’d like to give you an engagement…guitar.” Saying those words aloud sounds so incredibly cheesy. Rehearsing it in my head, it sounded cute. But now I feel like a super-awkward dork.

Rather than risk more embarrassing words, I hand the guitar back to Dylan.

“Seriously?” He takes it from me and looks at it like he’s just opened a suitcase packed with hundred-dollar bills. “This is mine? A new one? Of my own? To keep?”

“Yup. And maybe one day, years from now, you’ll use it to teachyourkid how to play.”

“I don’t know about that, but this is awesome.” He takes hold of it like a natural and strums a perfect C chord. He’s come a longway since that thunky first sound he made in the study at Maggie and Jim’s house.

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