Page 47 of Pucking Unhinged
I smile as he slowly lowers me, sliding me down the length of his body until my feet find the ground again. My hands come up on instinct, cupping his cheek. His skin is warm beneath my palm, and I look straight into those dark green eyes when I whisper, “You make me happy too. You always have, you know? I trusted you the very instant I met you, and I still, to this day, have never felt that connection with anyone else.”
Something flickers across his face, whatever it is seems sharp and very unguarded, and then it’s gone. Tristan tucks me back against him like he can’t stand the thought of me standing even a few inches away from him. His arm wraps around my waist, the other coming across his body just to grab my hand.
I can’t help smiling. That’s Tristan, always finding another way to keep a piece of me in his hands. Even though he’s very much an acts of service kind of guy, he constantly needs that physical contact between us. And I love it. God, I love it. It’s not suffocating, it never has been. It’s everything I used to wish for, everything I craved, begged the universe for when I just wanted one night of peace with him. Those nights he was suffering with night terrors or staying awake, refusing to let himself sleep because the memories of hurting me were too much for him totake. I wanted to be able to just hug him, kiss him, make him forget.
Now we have that. Now we’re free to do whatever we want whenever we want. And I’m not going to take a single second of it for granted. If he really, truly wanted to sew me to his chest like he used to threaten to when I was in danger and he was concerned for my safety, I’d let him. Gladly. Because being that close to him forever doesn’t scare me. He is the only thing that’s ever made me feel safe.
The trail curves up one last time before spilling us into the clearing. I breathe in deep, because the view never gets old. From up here, the pond stretches wide below, framed by trees blazing with fall colors. The air is crisp, sharp even, and it feels like the kind of moment I’ll remember forever.
WINTER
Iglance up at Tristan, my chest warm, and slide my hand free so I can gesture toward the water. “I hope one day we can bring our babies here to see this place.”
I feel him gasp before I hear it, the sudden stutter of his chest beneath my shoulder. It makes me smile because it’s not a scary thought for me. It’s what I want more than anything.
“You said we’re going to have lots of babies,” I remind him, my voice light, teasing, but wanting him to know I’m serious. “And I think they would love growing up coming here for special occasions.”
His throat works, and I see him swallow hard, his eyes flicking from the pond back to me. I press on, braver now. “We could foster too. I think that would be a dream.”
I turn back toward the water, already picturing it, already painting a future here. But before I can say more, he tugs me back, his mouth dropping to mine in a kiss that steals my breath.
“You are my dream, Winter.”
He says my name. Notdushen’ka.Not any of his soft, secret words for me.Winter.It knocks the air right out of me because instantly I know something really is up with him today.
Before I can even react, he’s reaching into the front pocket of his hoodie. My stomach flips when I see the little gray box he pulls free, a pale pink bow tied around it with Madi’s handiwork written all over it.
I swear time slows down and everything blurs.
Right here, at my favorite place in the world, with my favorite person in the world, Tristan drops to one knee and takes my hand in his like it’s the most natural thing in the world, like he’s practiced this very thing a million times.
He flips the lid of the cute little box open, and there it is. An elegant vintage diamond ring nestled against the velvet, catching the autumn light. My breath stutters, tears sting my eyes before I can stop them.
“I need you to marry me, Winter LeBlanc,” he says, his voice low but so sure, eyes locked on mine with that same dark, unshakable devotion that’s always been there. Somehow it feels bigger now. “Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”
“Yes, yes, oh my gosh, yes.” The words tumble out of me before I can even think, breaking on a laugh that turns into a sob as I throw my arms around his neck. My chest aches with it, tears spilling, but they’re all good, all happy.
Tristan’s arms lock around me as he rises to his feet, lifting me with him, holding me tight against his body like he’ll never let me go. He buries his face in my hair for a second, breathing me in, then pulls me back just enough to tip my chin up with his free hand.
“You really are my soul, you know that?” His voice is low, reverent, and then his mouth is brushing soft kisses over my wet cheeks, pressing against my eyelids, catching every tear like they were meant for him to wipe away.
“I have one more surprise for you,” he murmurs, and the way his eyes flicker dark with mischief makes my stomach twist withanticipation. What else could he possibly have that would outdo a proposal?
“But first,” his lips curve, and his thumb strokes over my hand as he lifts it, “I want to see my ring on your pretty finger.”
He slides the ring home, the cool metal glinting in the light as it settles where it belongs. My breath catches. It’s perfect. More than perfect. My hand trembles as I look at it and then look up at him, my tears spilling all over again.
Tristan tucks the empty box back into his hoodie pocket, but his gaze never leaves me.
He truly acts like I’m the only thing he sees.
I hold my hand up, the diamond catching the light. It’s hued just the faintest pink, subtle but so sparkly it takes my breath away. Of course I would’ve loved anything Tristan chose for me. He could’ve tied a string around my finger and I would’ve worn it until it frayed, but this? This feels likeme.Likeus.It’s everything I could have ever asked for, and more.
When I finally drag my eyes away from the ring, I notice him pulling something else from his hoodie pocket. A folded piece of paper. I cock my head, waiting, my heart already beating fast from the way he’s looking at me.
He opens it, smooths it flat, and shows me. “I put a lot of faith in you saying yes,” he says, his mouth tugging into the smallest, nervous smile. “Because I filed for a name change a while back. It got approved a few days ago.”
My eyes scan the words, and my stomach flips.Tristan LeBlanc.
