Page 69 of The Sexy Ex's Brother
Sienna doesn’t speak, but I feel her step back. She gives us space. Jack’s voice is soft, but it carries like thunder in my chest.
“I love you,” he says, steady and raw. “I didn’t plan to do this like this. I wanted candles. Maybe flowers. Something worthy of you. But I’ve carried this ring for weeks, hoping for a moment. A real one. And this is it. You showing up. You still choosing me, even when you didn’t have to.”
He takes a breath, and I swear I can feel it echo inside me.
“I don’t need perfect,” he says. “I just need you. I want the chaos. The truth. The hard conversations. The fights and the making up. I want all of it, with you. So, marry me, Ivy.”
The air shifts. The hallway holds its breath. The ring sparkles. The elevator hum behind me. The warmth of sunlight filtering through the hallway window. But mostly, I feel this. Us. And I realize, it was never Margot. It was never about another woman. It was fear. Fear of believing in something that might not last. Fear of being wrong again. But right now, none of that matters.
I reach out slowly and touch the edge of the ring box with trembling fingers. And then I do something I haven’t done in weeks. I smile. Because even after all of it, the panic, the spiral, this man still loves me like I’m his beginning, not his consequence. And this time, I’m ready to love him back the same way.
“I love you,” I whisper, voice thick. “And yes. God, yes.”
He exhales like the answer has stitched him back together. And when he kisses me again, slow, unhurried, the kind of kiss that makes you forget everything but the person holding you, I kiss him back with everything I am.
Sienna clears her throat behind us, but I barely hear her. Because in this hallway, between everything we’ve been andeverything we still might be, I said yes. And I meant it. I’m not running anymore.
36
JACK
She says yes, and I can barely breathe. We’re still standing in the hallway when it hits me all over again, she’s said yes. And I don’t want to waste a single second. The idea sparks before I can talk myself out of it. We’ve waited long enough, for each other, for this life. So I decide then and there, I’m taking her away.
It was always the plan, just not this soon. I’d meant to wait, to let the dust settle before pulling this particular surprise, but when she showed up at my door, wearing that smile and saying yes, every ounce of patience vanished.
I glance down at her after the kiss and tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. "Come with me," I say, my voice low. "I want to take you somewhere."
She tilts her head, curious. "Where?"
"No stress. No headlines. Just us."
Her smile is instant, soft and sure. "Give me five minutes."
She ducks into Graham’s apartment to freshen up for a few minutes while I head into mine to grab a few essentials, and I head into mine to grab a few things, a change of clothes, mywallet, and the ring box I don’t need anymore but can’t quite leave behind.
Five minutes later, there’s a soft knock at my door. I open it to find her standing there, fresh-faced and glowing, eyes full of mischief and trust. She doesn’t say anything right away, just reaches for my hand like she’s picking up a conversation we never had to start.
By the time we leave the building, her hand is in mine like it’s always belonged there. We move in sync, weaving past doormen, revolving doors, the lobby flashing behind us. We walk the short distance to the waiting car. I open the door and guide her in gently, letting my hand rest briefly at the curve of her back, as if I might never get to touch her again. She slides into the backseat before I follow. She’s still a little stunned, her fingers tracing the ring like she doesn’t trust it’s real.
“Where are we going?” she asks softly, her voice lined with disbelief and wonder.
I let the corner of my mouth lift. “Someplace warm.”
Her lips curve, just a little. She shifts closer, tucking one leg beneath her as she leans against my side. Our hands find each other again without thinking. The ring sparkles in the late afternoon light. I press a kiss to her knuckles.
“I should warn you,” she murmurs, glancing down at her outfit and then back up at me. “I didn’t exactly pack.”
I smirk. “You’re covered.”
The rest of the drive unfolds in a hush, a cocoon of laughter and soft teasing, of warm glances and the occasional brush of her knee against mine. She keeps trying to guess where we’re going, each guess more dramatic than the last.
At one point, between a mouthful of grapes and a playful elbow to my ribs, she narrows her eyes. "You know, I had a whole plan," I tell her, watching the gleam in her eyes.
She blinks. "A plan?"
I nod. "For the proposal. It was going to be this whole thing, at the new foundation space, surrounded by candles and music, with a plan to take you downtown afterward to a classy rooftop spot for champagne. Maybe even fireworks, if I could’ve swung it. A romantic gesture that you’d pretend not to see coming. But then…”
"Then I showed up at your door," she finishes, grinning.
