Page 227 of Love Redesigned

“Nope.”

I push against the small of her back. “Just a few more steps.” I lead her toward the perfect spot and let go. “Now, stay right there and don’t take your mask off.”

“Okay?” She blows hot air while I rush to flip the outdoor switch. I return to find her right where I left her.

My fingers tremble as I slide the eye mask over her head.

She gasps. “Julian.”

I tuck the eye mask into my jacket pocket. “What do you think?”

She takes a few steps toward the gazebo and pauses. “You made this?”

I slide my hands into the front pockets of my jeans. “Yup.”

My team may have helped me put it all together, but I waspresent for the whole process.

“It’s stunning.” She reaches out to stroke the column.

“Glad you think so.” I walk up the steps and stop in the center of the platform.

Dahlia follows while gawking at all the details. “It’s exactly like the one Gerald designed for Francesca.”

“I made a few modifications.” I trace over a wood-carved dahlia that would have been a rose if I had stuck to Gerald’s original design. Thankfully, my mom had a different idea, which added a personal touch to the piece.

Her eyes shimmer. “I love it for so many reasons, but most of all because you made it.”

I pull her against me. She melts into my embrace, our bodies molding together as we get lost in another kiss.

At some point, snow begins to fall around the gazebo, covering the ground like powdered sugar.

“A white Christmas! It’s been years since I had one!” She takes off running.

I stay under the gazebo, watching her spin in a circle while attempting to catch snowflakes with her tongue.

Nothing in the world is more beautiful than Dahlia laughing up at the sky, standing in front of the house I plan on turning into a home with her.

I let her have a few minutes of fun before I loop my arm around her waist and pull her toward the Founder’s house.

“Where are we going?”

“Home.”

“What? Why? We just got here!”

“We’re not going anywhere.” I open the back door andwalk inside while dragging her behind me.

A sigh escapes us as our fingers and toes start thawing.

Dahlia pokes at my chest. “What did you mean when you said we were going home?”

I wave around the living room. “You’re standing inside it.”

She blinks.

And blinks some more.

“We’re keeping the house?”

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