Page 95 of Saving Her Heart
"Would I lie about that?"
They file out, leaving me alone with the puppy and my nerves. I do a last check—ring secured to collar, puppy reasonably calm, dinner warm, lights working, music queued on my phone.
I hear Kendall's car pull up, and my heart rate triples.
"Okay, puppy," I say to the golden retriever. "Don't mess this up for us."
She wags her tail and tries to eat my shoelace as I hide her in one of the spare bedrooms.
"Jax?" Kendall calls from the front door. "Are you here?"
"Backyard!" I call back.
I hear her footsteps through the house, the pause when she sees the lights through the window.
"What's all this?" she asks, stepping onto the back porch.
She's still in her work clothes—pencil skirt and blouse—but her hair is coming loose from its ponytail, and she looks beautiful.
"Dinner," I say. "To celebrate our house."
"Jax, this is gorgeous," she says, taking in the lights, the flowers, the set table. "When did you do all this?"
"I had help," I admit. "Hudson and Kane did the lights."
She walks down the porch steps, turning in a slow circle to take it all in. "It's perfect. It's like a fairy tale."
"Are you hungry?" I ask. "I got Italian from that place you love."
"In a minute," she says, wrapping her arms around me. "I just want to enjoy this. Our house. Our yard. Our tree with the lights."
"Our life," I add, holding her close.
"Our life," she agrees, and I know this is the moment.
"Actually," I say, pulling back slightly, "there's something else."
"More surprises?" she asks, smiling. "Jax, this is already?—"
A bark interrupts her. The puppy, tired of waiting inside, has pushed through the door I apparently didn't latch properly.
"Oh my god," Kendall breathes as the golden retriever bounds toward us. "Whose dog?—"
She stops mid-sentence, seeing the box on the collar. Her hands fly to her mouth.
"Jax," she whispers.
I drop to one knee as the puppy reaches us, tail wagging furiously. With shaking hands, I unhook the box from the collar and open it, revealing the ring I've been hiding for weeks—a vintage setting with a center stone that catches the light from all the strings above us.
"Kendall," I start, my voice not quite steady. "Ten years ago, I made the worst mistake of my life when I left you. I've regretted it every day since. But maybe we needed that time to become who we are now—people who know what we want and aren't afraid to fight for it."
She's crying already, the puppy jumping at her legs.
"You've taught me that rules are meant to be broken when love is on the line," I continue. "That home isn't a place buta person. That second chances are precious and shouldn't be wasted."
"Jax," she whispers again.
"I love you," I say simply. "I loved you at eighteen, I loved you through ten years apart, and I'll love you for the rest of my life if you'll let me. Kendall Greene, will you marry me?"
