Page 159 of You're The One
“I guess they are.” I hook a finger in the pocket of his hoodie, tugging him a little closer. “This is how you want to spend your one day off? Gardening?”
“Yep. Can’t think of a better way to spend it.”
“All right. I didn’t know you could plant this late in the season.”
“They bloom in winter, remember? Don’t worry, I did my research. They’ll survive. Thrive, even.”
It sounds like he’s talking about more than flowers. But all I say is, “I believe you.”
“I’ll bring these over. You take this.” He passes me a paper bag stuffed with gardening tools and gloves.
“I can carry more than this tiny bag.”
“But I don’t want you to.” He brushes a quick kiss against my lips, dismissing the protest, and I head for the front yard where garden beds frame the steps. I crouch to pull on a pair of the gloves.
By the time I’ve picked a spot and started loosening the soil with a trowel, he’s hauled the plants from the car in two trips.
“Have I told you how much I love you?” he asks, kneeling beside me.
“A couple of times.” I smile.
By the time we’re down to the last pot, my hair’s twisted into a messy bun, my jeans are stained with grass and dirt, and my cheeks ache from smiling. It’s one of those perfect days—the kind where the sun is shining, autumn leaves scatter the ground, and a cool breeze keeps the low seventies from feeling too warm. Lately I’ve been trying to soak in days like this, to tip the scale in my favor when the hard ones come.
This one belongs in the record books.
“Hey, can you grab me that fertilizer?” Dom tips his chin toward the small bag of plant food he dropped a few feet away.
I stand, brushing off my jeans. I’ve barely picked up the bag when it slips from my hand and thuds back to the ground—because when I turn, Dom isn’t where I left him. He’s facing me, the freshly planted bed of hellebores at his back, down on one knee with a small jewelry box in his hand.
“Mia,” he starts, and my eyes sting before he gets the next word out.
I move without thinking, sinking down in front of him and looping my arms around his neck. “Are you doing what I think you’re doing?” I breathe against his ear.
“Trying to.”
His smile curves against my cheek before he turns his head and kisses me.
I draw back just enough to stand, though I cling to his hands.
“Mia.” His eyes are soft and glassy, just like mine. “You don’t just make me happy. You make me better. A better man. A better friend. Hell, even a better hockey player. If the last month’s any indication, my goals this season are going to hit thirty easy.”
My head tips back as a laugh escapes, half sob, all happiness. When I meet his gaze again, he’s smiling up at me.
“A few months ago we talked about August. How everything can fall apart in days, weeks, months, or years. But the thing is, tomorrows areneverpromised. And I want to spend every single one I get with you.
“I spent four years knowing you without ever reallyseeingyou.” His voice is steady and sure. “July brought me you. August brought me love. September brought us home. And October… I’m hoping it brings us forever.”
Hiccupping sobs break free, because that’s all I’ve got.
“Will you marry me, Mia Madonna Matthews?”
I’m nodding before he finishes. “Yes. A thousand times, yes.”
I sink into the dirt in front of him once again, fresh stains joining the ones already on my knees. My lips find his, curved into a smile.
“You didn’t even see the ring,” he murmurs against my mouth.
He’s right. I couldn’t care less what it looks like, only that he wants to put it on me. That he chooses me. Our love may have come on like a wildfire, but I know it will keep burning long after my last breath. I’ve never been more certain of anything.
