Page 75 of Love Overboard
“Right now.” He retrieved a suit coat from the chair, shrugged into it, and held the flowers out to her with both hands. “Happy birthday.”
Lacey paused before accepting the bouquet and looked around. “I’m confused … this is all for us?”
“All for you.” He waved at the dinner table with its expensive china and twenty-four-karat utensils. “I know you’ve had a tough day because of your father, and I decided you deserved better than wilted lettuce.”
Lacey blinked at hyperspeed to keep the tears at bay. She shifted the orchids to the crook of her arm and picked up one of the golden spoons. “Do cruise directors get a discount?” She put it back. “Never mind. Even if you do, it still must cost a fortune. This is too extravagant.”
Jon chuckled. “I admit this isn’t the reaction I was expecting, but I should’ve known. It’s why I love you.”
“What? You … you—”
“Love you?” Jon walked around the table, took the flowers from her, and set them on a chair. He placed his hands behind her back and urged her closer. “I do. Very much. For a very long time. And I plan to keep loving you for even longer. At least a lifetime.”
The frozen barricade guarding her heart melted at his confession. Emotion stopped her throat. She tilted forward until her forehead pressed against his chest.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
He stiffened. “Sorry for what?”
She swallowed hard. “I’m sorry for running away back then. For avoiding you when you showed up here. For … for everything.”
“Oh, thank God.” He laughed as he crushed her to himself. “I thought you were rejecting me. Again.”
Lacey sniffled. “Nope. Never again.”
A strong gust of wind invaded their private moment, knocking the orchids from the chair. They hit the floor and tumbled from their wrapping. The petals scattered on the deck.
“Oh no!” Lacey knelt by the fractured arrangement. She gathered the flowers and picked at the slender fallen pieces.
“Leave them.” Jon bent down. “I’ll get you another bouquet.”
“I don’t want another one.” She reached under a chair to snag a petal. “This is the bouquet I was holding when you said you loved me. Nothing can replace that.”
His hands took hold of hers, and she focused on him.
“You’re right. I’ll do it.” He released her and crouched. His fingers gently retrieved the stray petals and dropped them on his open palm. “Why don’t you relax? I’ll get this.”
Lacey straightened and walked to the five-foot-high wall that concealed their hideaway from the decks far below. The ocean glimmered in the early evening, and the fading twilight painted the low-hanging clouds a heavenly array of lavender and coral shades.
Jon moved behind her. He set the rewrapped flowers and petals on the bench seat and folded his arms around her in a back hug, stooping to press the side of his cheek against her own.
She sighed. “It’s obvious why they named this place Cloud Nine.”
His torso vibrated against hers. “Someone told me it used to be called the Crow’s Nest in the beginning.”
“The Crow’s Nest? Like on a pirate ship?”
Jon nodded against her skin. “Monarch created it as a special frill for passengers who wanted a picturesque dinner spot to get down on one knee, but hardly anyone reserved it. The owner couldn’t figure out why no one was taking advantage of the romantic location until his wife called him a fool. She said no woman wanted to be proposed to in a place named after a screechy bird.”
“Sounds like a smart lady.”
“She is. Are you hungry?”
“A little. Funny, I don’t recall hearing that story before.” A frigid breeze hit them, and Lacey wrapped her arms around her middle. “I should’ve brought a jacket.”
Jon released her and opened the top of the padded bench at their side. He withdrew a fleece blanket, closed the lid, and wrapped the material around her—followed by his arms.
“There’s a gourmet feast waiting. Though I wish I could eat it without letting you go.”
