Page 57 of Finding Haven
I’m ready to be her husband.
She has spent most of the morning and early afternoon with my mom and sister, getting pampered and being completely spoiled. I want her to feel as beautiful as she is on a day we’ll always remember. It took me a few moments to even form a coherent sentence when I picked her up from my sister’s. Quinn stepped out onto the porch wearing a navy blue dress with a pink floral design, her honey-blonde hair curled in loose waves over her shoulders, and a pair of strappy heels that make her a few inches taller than normal.
Now, as the bridge comes into view and I pull our car off to the side of the road, my heart is thrashing in my chest. Over the last few months, Willowbend Bridge has been part of a total reconstruction project, making it safer and restoring it to the former beauty it was known for.
“What are we doing here?” Quinn asks, turning in her seat to face me.
When we came to town for Jake's birthday last year, I knew I needed to return here to truly find closure. Quinn stood patiently by my side as I said an overdue goodbye to Ryan. Afterwards, we spent what felt like hours on the bridge, watching the flowing river below as I shared memory after memory of this place with her. Before the accident, in Hartridge local fashion, I'd always imagined that this would be where I would ask the woman of my dreams to become my wife.
Reaching over, I take her hand in mine and bring her knuckles to my lips, pressing a whisper soft kiss to each one. “Come on, Sugar, I want toshow you something.” I release her hand and step out of the car, using the time it takes to walk around to her side to take a few deep, calming breaths. I open her door and hold out my hand for her.
“Someday, you’re gonna have to let me open my own door,” she quips with a smile, sliding her hand into mine.
I smile. “Not a chance, baby.”
The cool, gentle breeze helps to calm my heated skin as we walk hand-in-hand towards the center of the bridge.
I’ve spent the better part of the last eight months trying to figure out how I was going to do this and what I wanted to say. Now that the moment is finally here, I realize that I didn’t need to worry about writing down and remembering a speech. The words begin to flood my mind as we walk hand-in-hand over the bridge that changed the course of my life.
I take another steadying breath as we stop in the center. The bridge is quiet, with the exception of the breeze and the rustling willow branches that sit on either side, and the lights that now line the outer edge of the bridge add to the warm glow of sunset. Quinn always refers to this time of day as “golden hour” whenever she’s talking about photography.
“Before I met you, I’d spent so much time suffering alone in the dark. I let my past trauma consume my life.” Keeping her hand in mine, I turn to face her, admiring the way the sunlight dances across her features. It steals what little breath is left in my lungs. My eyes meet hers as I begin to let the words spill from my mind. “I’d gotten used to the idea of living my life alone. I don’t think I even realized how trapped I’d become until I met you. You caught my eye the night we met at the bar, and I’ve spent every day since falling more and more in love with you. You chased awayall the shadows with your light, and because of you. . .with you, I feel like I’m finally living again.”
Releasing her hands, I reach up to tuck a strand of blonde hair behind her ear as tears brim her eyes. “Zack?” she whispers, her voice thick with emotion as I reach into my pocket and pull out the small black velvet box I’ve been carrying around.
Fuck, if she cries, I’m going to cry.
Holding her gaze, I slowly drop to one knee and open the box, presenting her with the ring that I spent weeks agonizing over.
“Quinn, I love you more than I ever thought I’d love another person. If you’ll let me, I’ll spend the rest of my life showing you how incredible you are. I’ll love you and worship you and take care of you, even when you insist on doing everything yourself.”
A soft laugh bursts from her lips as she swipes away a tear as it begins to glide down her cheek.
“Will you marry me?”
One of her signature sun-rivaling smiles is the only answer I get before she bends down, wrapping her fist in the front of my black button-up shirt as she hauls my mouth to hers. My arms circle her waist as best I can while kneeling, smiling into the press of her lips.
“I love you, Sugar, but I’m gonna need your words for this one.”
“I love you, Zack. Of course, I’ll marry you.”
Epilogue - Quinn
It’stakenafewmonths to find the perfect studio location, and after endless hours stressing over the smallest details, opening day is finally here. I wasn’t sure I would ever find exactly what I was looking for until Zack and I were out driving around town one day and happened to pass a corner space with a large “for lease” sign in the window.
The lease includes both levels of the two-story building. I’ve turned the ground level into an office space as well as a showroom of sorts. A small navy blue couch and two accent chairs, along with a glass coffee table displaying two different photo albums, form a seating area for clients. Some of my more modest client portraits decorate the walls as large framed prints. I felt a bit weird about displaying them at first, but they were a huge conversation starter at yesterday’s grand opening party, which was Hailey’s idea. As an event coordinator, she helped spread the word and was graciously able to donate certificates to the hotel’s Elysian Spa for anyone who booked a session and paid their retainer fee during the grand opening.
The upper level is the designated studio space, and it’s big enough that I was able to create a few setups, including a bedroom, living room, and even a faux-shower. Getting all of the furniture and decor hauled up the stairs was a hassle, but Zack, Austin, and Ethan all made it seemlike a piece of cake. I had my camera with me during the grand opening and made it a point to photograph each person who showed an interest in booking and signed up for my email newsletter. Granted, given the nature of the party, all of the photos taken were business headshots or simply posed couple portraits, but it still gave me a way to show off my work and make a potential connection.
Now that the high of yesterday’s party has officially worn off and it’s time for my first in-studio client, the nerves have begun to set in. I debated on what I should be doing when my client arrives. I couldn’t decide whether I should be sitting in one of the chairs and looking through the photo albums, sitting at my desk, or standing. . . somewhere. The indecision led me to my current state of pacing while my mind fills with dozens ofwhat ifscenarios.
What if they don’t show up? What if they do show up but I suddenly forget all the poses I typically run through? What if I say something stupid while attempting to make small talk to help them feel more comfortable? What if I get so caught up in the chit-chat that I forget to collect payment for their session?
My rambling thoughts come to a sudden halt when Zack walks through the studio doors. His dark hair is styled in that effortlessly tousled look that I love, drawing my attention to his warm whiskey eyes as a smile curls at his lips. He’s dressed as though he’s headed to work at the hotel, wearing black dress slacks that hug his strong thighs, a dark gray Oxford shirt with the top button undone, and a black leather belt cinched around his waist. “Hey there, Sugar,” he says, strolling in with a confident swagger.
As much as I adore him for wanting to surprise me on my first official day in the studio, my client is going to be here soon. Making sure that whoever I’m working with feels safe and comfortable is one of the most important aspects of boudoir photography. While Zack would never harm someone without cause, I don’t need him hanging around the studio. Besides, if he was concerned for my safety, he could simply monitor the security cameras that have already been installed on the first floor.
“Babe, I love you for coming to see me, but you can’t be here right now. My client’s going to be here any minute,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady as I fight against the nervous energy coursing through my body.
