Page 151 of Bottles & Blades

“Buttercup, my heart, the woman who’s only ever seen me for me?—”

Eyes burning, I suck in a shuddering breath.

“—I want to give you everything you’ve ever dreamed of, want to build our life together with you as my wife.” He pulls the ring free, settling the round diamond-adorned band at the tip of my finger. “I want forever with you, baby. Will you marry me?”

My tears escape and it’s a good thing I already got my “Yes!” out.

Because I can’t form words. I can only nod.

He grins, slides the band down my finger, settling it at the base of my knuckle.

I only have a moment to appreciate it there before he lays a kiss on me that threatens to turn me to goo—and I know the only reason I don’tactuallymelt is because cheers erupt around us, jarring me out of the pleasure of his mouth.

We slowly break apart and, cheeks hot, I smile at the complete strangers who are cheering for us.

Complete strangers except for Marie, I realize, my heart so damned full it feels as though it should burst—and it somehow gets even fuller when I notice she’s pointing her cell in our direction.

Documenting this moment for us.

My chest hitches, a sob escaping.

“Hey,” Jean-Mi whispers, brushing my tears away. “This is supposed to be a happy moment.”

“I’ve had sadness,” I tell him.

Gentle blue eyes on mine. “I know, buttercup.”

“And I’ve had goodness.”

He cups my cheek, drying the rest of my tears. “I know that too, buttercup.”

“But I never had anything more beautiful than my time with you.”

Our next kiss isn’t interrupted by cheers.

It’s curtailed by pointed throat-clearing.

Jean-Mi pulls back, his mouth curving up as the unimpressed waiter nudges us toward that beautifully arranged table. He tugs out the chair then leans close and murmurs,

“Okay with you if we ignore local customs and eat early tonight?”

I glance out at the water, the beautiful sunset, the gorgeousness this man arranged for me.

And there’s no hesitation.

I take my seat.

And know that I’ve never been more excited for forever.

Marie

I reach for the handle of the sedan that’s just pulled to a stop at the curb?—

Only to find my fingers brushed away.

Starting, my head jerks up, focus yanked from my phone, and I glare at the man who’s similarly focused on his phone and, apparently, not noticing that this ismyfreaking car.

“What the hell are you doing?” I snap, brushinghisfingers away.

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