Page 142 of Cooking Up My Comeback
“Beautiful,” the photographer says, snapping away. “Very heartfelt.”
“It’s true,” I add, catching Brett’s eye across the kitchen. He’s watching me with the kind of warmth making my chest tight with happiness, and there’s something else in his expression. Something building these past few weeks, something making my pulse flutter whenever I catch him looking at me like this.
By the time the mayor and photographer leave, we’ve somehow managed to produce a full breakfast spread and enough coffee to fuel a small village. The dining room is full of people who shouldn’t technically be here but somehow make the space feel more like home than it ever has.
“You know,” I say to Brett as we watch my dad explain proper fishing techniques to Jack while Mason demonstrates the aerodynamics of coffee beans, “this is not how I imagined celebrating my first award nomination.”
“Better or worse than you imagined?”
I consider this, looking around at the controlled commotion that is my life. Coffee beans are still occasionally crunching under people’s feet. Michelle and Jack are now engaged in what appears to be a friendly debate about different brewing methods. My mother isserving breakfast casserole to anyone within reach. And somewhere in the middle of it all, Tally is taking photos because “this is definitely going on social media.”
“Better,” I say without hesitation. “Definitely better.”
“Good,” Brett says, moving closer. “Because I have a feeling this is the beginning.”
“Of what?”
“Of everything.” He’s looking at me with an intensity making my pulse flutter, and I’m suddenly very aware we’re standing in our restaurant, surrounded by our friends and family, celebrating something that felt impossible months ago.
“Brett,” I say softly, “are you about to say something romantic? Because if you are, you should know Tally’s probably documenting this.”
“Let her,” he says, and I watch in shock as he reaches into his jacket pocket. “Some moments are worth documenting.”
My heart stops when I see what he’s pulling out. A small black box.
“Brett,” I whisper, suddenly unable to breathe.
“I know this isn’t the most conventional place or time,” he says, his voice carrying enough to make conversations around us slowly fade. “But nothing about us has been conventional.”
“Oh my gosh,” Hazel breathes from somewhere behind me. “Is this happening right now?”
“It’s happening,” Tally confirms, and the grin in her voice is audible. “Mom, don’t you dare say no. We all like him way too much.”
Brett drops to one knee right there in our kitchen, surrounded by coffee beans and breakfast casserole and the people who’ve become our family.
“Amber Bennett,” he says, opening the box to reveal the most perfect ring I’ve ever seen, “you’ve turned my whole world upside down in the best possible way. You’ve shown me what it means to build something real, something lasting, something worth fighting for.”
Tears stream down my face, and I don’t even care there’s probably a coffee bean stuck in my hair.
“A year ago, I thought you were the most stubborn, impossible woman I’d ever met,” he continues, and I laugh through my tears. “Turns out I was right. You are stubborn and impossible, and you’ve made me want things I never thought I deserved.”
“Brett,” I whisper.
“Will you marry me?” he asks. “Will you let me be your partner in all of this—the restaurant, the beautiful mess that is our life? Will you let me love you and your kids for the rest of our lives?”
“Yes,” I say, my voice cracking with emotion. “Yes to all of it.”
The kitchen erupts in cheers as he slides the ring onto my finger, and it fits perfectly, like it was always meant to be there. Then he stands up and kisses me,deep and full of promises about the future we’re going to build together, while our friends and family cheer and Tally takes what she’ll probably call “the best engagement photos ever.”
When we finally break apart, we’re both grinning.
It’s messy and loud and absolutely perfect. Like us.
I look at this man who proposed to me in a kitchen covered in coffee beans, surrounded by our friends and family and the restaurant we built from dreams and stubbornness.
“Are you ready for this?” Brett asks after kissing me soundly.
A year ago, I thought Brett Walker was my biggest obstacle. Now he’s my greatest adventure.
