Page 118 of You, with a View

“Sixty years, huh?” Even two lifetimes don’t feel like enough.

“At least.” He runs a finger over my wet cheek, then asks quietly, “Will you marry me?”

I throw my arms around his neck, and he teeters with a laugh, wrapping his arms around my waist to keep us steady.

“I will marry thehellout of you,” I say, pulling him to me for a kiss that’s all him laughing, me crying.

“I love you,” he whispers once, then again as he slides the brilliant diamond onto my finger. I say it back, against his mouth, his cheek, right up against his ear so he never forgets this moment and what he’s given me.

After a few minutes of dizzy, euphoric making out, Theo pulls me to a stand.

I gaze at the pictures, imagining someone finding them someday. Wanting to know our story. “How did you do all this without me knowing?”

His hand moves up and down my back in soothing strokes as he appraises them. “I worked it out in advance with someone, depending on where we were—sometimes it was days in advance, like with the boat tour, and sometimes minutes, like that picture in Rome. I gave them my number so they could text me the picture afterward.”

“Who printed them out? Who put them up? My whole family was involved?”

Theo nods. “Thomas and Granddad got them printed. Everyone, including your parents, came and swapped out the old pictures with these.”

That explains the FaceTime call I got from my family two days ago. They were all giddy to the point of hysterical laughter. I chalked it up to a boozy brunch, but now I know they were just beside themselves with excitement.

“You are all so sneaky, oh my god.” I press my hand against my forehead, feeling the cool metal of the ring against my heated skin. “How am I ever going to beat this?”

Theo turns to me, pulling me back into his arms. He gazes down at me, pure happiness and unabashed affection written all over his face. “It’s not a contest, remember?”

I stare down at my ring, mesmerized, before blinking up at him. “Is this real? This is my life?”

“Shepard,” he says, grazing his lips against mine. “It’s ours.”

His glancing touch turns into searching kisses, and I push him back toward our bedroom, yanking at his shirt. He lets me pull it over his head, laughing, bringing my hand up to his mouth so he can kiss my finger right above the ring he just gave me.

We’ve had all kinds of sex many times over—frantic, slow, intense and rough, the makeup kind after a fight, the sneaky type in places we could get caught—but engaged sex is going to be my favorite. I can already tell by the way he grips my hips tight in his hands, by the need in his eyes.

Theo backs me into the wall next to the bedroom, dipping his mouth to my throat. He presses it right over my steadily beating pulse and smiles against my skin. “Where should we go on our honeymoon?”

I consider it, but only for a second. Then I smile, wrapping my arms around his neck. “How about a road trip?”

Acknowledgments

When I was a teenager, my grandma found a story I’d left up on my computer. When she told me she’d read it, I wanted to dissolve into a puddle of angst and humiliation. But she assured me she loved what I’d written, and said something that stuck with me: “Finish writing it. I want to see how it ends.”

I never finished that story, nor did I finish the dozen that followed it. But I did finish this one with her encouragement echoing in my head. I think that if she’d been able to hold this book in her hands, she’d tell me just how much she loved the ending. But more than that, she’d tell me how excited she was for the beginning of this thing I’ve been dreaming about for so long. I want to thank her first, because the spark of this story began with her.

My endless gratitude goes to my incredible agent, Samantha Fabien. The way you understood this story and Noelle’s journey from the beginning, and your unwavering belief in me, still feels a little unreal. I’m so grateful for you—and our grandmas for conspiring to bring us together! Many thanks also to the larger, equally wonderful Root Lit family.

To my amazing editor, Kerry Donovan, thank you for loving Noelle and Theo as much as I do and for taking a chance on all of us. I feel so lucky to have access to your guidance, skill, and deep well of knowledge. To the rest of the Berkley team who’ve helped make this a real, actual book—Mary Baker, Megan Elmore, Christine Legon, Dache’ Rogers, Fareeda Bullert, and Anika Bates. Thank you to Emily Osborne for the incredible cover direction and Anna Kuptsova for her stunning cover artwork. I’m so appreciative of all of you!

I dragged a million people along this journey with me, so please bear with me. Firstly, to Anya and Kate, whose nicknames I won’t put here because sometimes we’re not publicly embarrassing—who am I without you? I never want to find out. Thank you for holding my hand, for laughing with me until I cry and crying with me until I laugh again. Our friendship is the best friendship in the world.

To Sarah T. Dubb, Risa Edwards, and Livy Hart, this book would quite simply not exist without you. Thank you for your encouraging words in the margins and for pushing me to be better every day. To Alexandra Kiley, Maggie North, and Sarah Burnard, thank you for giving me such thoughtful, encouraging feedback while I wrote this, and to Jen Devon and Ingrid Pierce, thank you for being amazing cheerleaders along the way. You are all incredible humans with fierce talent. What a combo!

Ongoing gratitude to those who read, reassured, and hyped: Mae B, Kate Robb, Aurora Palit, Sofia Arellano, Rebecca Osberg (#BTeam represent), Ambriel McIntyre, Nicole Poulsen, Carla G. Garcia, Tasha Berlin, Caitlin Highland, Jenn, and Ashton. My deep appreciation also goes to the Berkletes, who I one hundred percent could not survive without. Special shout-outs to Sarah Adler for lending an ear in the early whirlwind days, and Alicia Thompson, who is an excellent hand-holder and an even betterfriend. Many thanks to the Hopefully Writing and #TeamSamantha slack groups, who have been such great support systems. To Esther, the first person to highlight these finished words: thank you for helping me check off a bucket list item. I’m surrounded by so many people whose generosity somehow exceeds their immense talent, and I think about the jackpot-hitting luck of that every day.

To Mom and Aunt Teri, who, along with my gram, introduced me to romance books—that turned out to be pretty life-changing! Thank you both (and Maddy!) for celebrating with me every step of the way. You can read this, but maybe let’s not talk about it after. To Dad, who will only ever read this page, thank you for being proud of me no matter what. To my extended family—the one I was honored to be born into and the one I was lucky enough to marry into—I love you all!

To my husband, Steve, you’ve given me the space and time to make this happen, and have supported me through it all in true #1 hype man fashion. Thank you for showing me what a love story looks like so I could turn around and write one (and also for telling everyone I wrote a book as soon as we step foot in a bookstore, every time). To my little hype boy, Noah, thank you for allowing me to experience the most rewarding, unconditional love. Thank you for wanting to help me write my next book, too. Someday you’ll figure out why that would’ve been awkward. I love you both more than anything.

And to you, reading this: I never thought I’d be lucky enough to have people hold my book in their hands, so thank you for making this dream completely, fantastically, finallyreal.

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