Page 89 of Hot Saltwater Kisses

He shot me an impish look from underneath his lashes. “Think of it as motivation.”

“No pressure, huh?”

His laugh echoed against the backdrop of the ocean, one or two neighboring tables glancing over. “None at all. So. Tomorrow? Or are you going to make me sweat it out until Christmas Eve?”

A grin pressed against my cheeks. “Wait and see.”

“Not like I’ve got a choice,” he grumbled. His expression turned serious a moment later. “Hey, just so we’re clear… Take your time, okay? I’m not going anywhere.”

I studied him—the earnest set of his eyes and the way his hair fell across his forehead, curling just slightly around his ears. Nearly one and a half years in, and I was still so stupidly in love I couldn’t see a future without him. My grin broke through. “Yeah. I know.”

Dessert arrived in the form of a decadent duo of chocolate creations. We swapped bites, debated the merits of dark versus white chocolate, and then why Nia and Tom still pretended it was casual when they were so obviously, utterly gone for each other. By the time our plates were empty, any tension had melted away.

The gentle sway of the spiral staircase led us back to the surface. Outside, a warm breeze greeted us, stars scattered across the sky like specks of bioluminescence in the deep, the moon a thin slice of silver.

We took off our shoes to follow the shoreline, the sand cool beneath our feet. Our hands bumped, at first by accident, before Logan lightly tangled our fingers.I love you, I thought, and maybe I didn’t have a perfect speech or a bottle of champagne, maybe we were both a little tipsy and I had no plan, just rings in my pocket and my heart in my throat.

Good enough.

“Logan?”

He made a questioning noise, watching the waves that rolled in. When I pulled him to a halt, his attention snapped to me.

“Maybe,” I started softly, and fuck, I was doing this. I was reallydoingthis. “Maybe I don’t need until Christmas.”

His face went still. “No?”

“No.” I stepped a little closer and dropped my shoes in the sand, fumbled for the small, weathered box in my pocket. “Since, you know. I might have been carrying this around for a little while now.”

He inhaled, lips parting as his gaze flickered down. “Is that?—?”

“Like I said…” I took a steadying breath, in time with the waves. “I wanted to do the asking. So—Logan Prescott. You’re a pain in the ass, and you leave your socks in weird places, and you always need to have the last fucking word.”

“Wow.” A shaky laugh escaped him. “You’re really nailing this.”

“But also,” I pressed on, “you are the best thing that’s ever happened to me. Because even though you get me, you don’t let me get away with anything. Because you make mebetter. So, uh.”Smooth.I cleared my throat. “Marry me?”

A beat passed when he simply stared at me, and shit, had I misread him? No. Noway.

“Logan?” I tried, voice catching just a little.

“Sorry, yeah.” He gave a sudden, breathy chuckle, teeth flashing in a smile that lingered. “I just honestly didn’t think you’d ask.”

I inhaled and raised the little box. “Is that a yes?”

He didn’t answer—not with words anyway. Instead, he pulled me in for a kiss that didn’t bother with niceties, hot and open right off the bat, swirling tongues and hands clutching me close. The world grayed out until it was just us and the steady pattern of the ocean.

Yes.

THE END

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