The car moved smoothly to the top floor, not making a single stop along the way. I licked my lips, then clasped my slightly damp hands together. Nerves fluttered in my belly. I still couldn’t believe Killian had asked me to marry me at the signing. Actually, I couldn’t believe he even attended it. By all accounts, Killian loathed airplanes, and it was a long flight from Virginia to San Francisco.
I wiped my hands on my jeans, not wanting to appear overly nervous or anxious. Even though we’d parted after an ugly fight, the only response that popped into my head when I saw his proposal was a resounding yes. It had taken all my willpower to hold back and ask him to talk to me later.
But I wanted to know why he was proposing after saying all those hurtful things. What made him change his mind? I wanted to make sure we were both on the same page before we committed to something as huge as marriage. I might be cynical about romance in real life, but that didn’t mean I wanted my relationship with Killian to fail.
Taking a deep breath, I stepped out into the huge garden. The lawn was lush and soft. Pink roses in full bloom twisted around twin arches. But it was the sight of an endless sea of flowers that stunned me. The air was heavy with their sweet fragrance, and I walked into the middle of it, where Killian stood by a table set for two, waiting.
He looked brilliant under the sun, his hair slightly messy, his blue eyes focused and determined. Although he was smiling, his jaw was set in a resolute line.
My knees grew weak, but I managed to remain standing, breathing shallowly. God, I was so nervous. And hopeful.
“Emily.” His raspy voice sent shivers down my back.
“Hi,” I said, unsure how to start.
“Wanna sit down?” he asked, pulling out a chair.
“No, thanks. I’ve been sitting for hours.”
He nodded, then pushed the chair back. “I bought full-page ads in all those papers.”
“Yeah. I saw.” My mouth was parched. I felt like I should say something more, but I still wasn’t sure what. If I’d run into him immediately after seeing the ads, I might’ve said, “I forgive you,” but I was seeing him after he’d proposed.
He frowned a little. “I thought you didn’t.”
“How could I miss them? They were next to Dad’s ads in the papers.”
“So… I know they weren’t really that eloquent.” He frowned a little. “I wanted to say, ‘I’m sorry. I acted like an asshole,’ but apparently newspapers don’t like people using words like asshole in their ads.”
I let out a small laugh at how serious and annoyed he sounded.
“So I’m going to ask.” He cleared his throat. “Can you forgive me for jumping the gun and acting like an idiot?”
I nodded. “Yeah. Thinking back on it… You tried to ask me who was in charge of my accounts, and my answer probably didn’t reassure you.”
“I overreacted because I thought you were the one.” He took a step closer and held my eyes. “And you are the one. You make me laugh. You make me feel like a person, not some rock icon. When I saw you again at the signing, I knew I was looking at my future, and if I didn’t hold on to you, I’d regret it for the rest of my life.” He pulled out the ring he’d taped to the book. “This is my grandmother’s ring. The one my grandfather put on her finger when he proposed to her. I want us to live in love and happiness like they did, Emily.”
Love for him fisted around my heart, swift and firm, like it was going to be part of me forever. I couldn’t breathe, and my eyes grew hot with tears of joy. I looked at the simple diamond solitaire. His explanation made the ring even more special. The vision of our bright future stirred in my head, expanding until all I could think of was us, loving, laughing and growing old together.
Killian dropped to one knee. “I love you, Emily. Will you marry me?”
“Yes. Of course I will.”
Smiling, he rose to his feet and put the ring on my finger.
I kissed the man who made me believe real love could exist in real life. “I love you too. We’re going to be awesome, Killian.”
Chapter Forty-Six
Emily
September in Virginia was perfect for an outdoor wedding—still warm, but without the oppressive heat of July and August. The sky was high and clear, just white, fluffy clouds dotting the endless azure.
I’d told Killian an outdoor event would attract paparazzi, but he’d said he wanted everyone in the world to know he was marrying me. “You’re mine, all mine.” I’d smiled, since that was sweet, and I was happy he was becoming less uptight about that kind of publicity.
Since we didn’t have a ton of time to prepare, I’d considered wearing my mom’s dress, but she categorically refused to even consider the idea. She insisted I needed something new—not a dress tainted with something as terrible as her own marriage. And as of yesterday, that marriage had become a thing of the past. Thanks to the kick-ass lawyer Killian had helped me find for Mom, she got to flip Dad the bird. Legally speaking, of course.
“Give me, like, two seconds. I’m on my last sentence,” I said, typing away in the bride’s dressing room as Mom fussed with my hair and the small train on my wedding gown. I knew it was ridiculous to still be working on my book, but I didn’t want to be wrestling with it on the honeymoon.
“I can’t believe you set your wedding date as your deadline!” Mom said.
“I didn’t! It was supposed to be done two weeks ago. I just couldn’t meet the original deadline because of a certain person.”
“Who on earth are you talking about?” She sounded bewildered.
Oh, for God’s sake. I typed The End, saved the manuscript and sent it to my editor. Then I shut the lid on my laptop and spun around to face my mom. “You! The certain person is you. You’ve been dragging me around everywhere.”
“Because weddings don’t plan themselves! You know that!”
“Well, I certainly do now.”
“It’s the same thing as books not writing themselves.”
“Ha! Okay, fine, you have a point. But see, now that I’m done, I don’t have to work on it on my honeymoon!” This book was my gift to Killian and Mom, since the bad guys in the story were modeled after Caitlyn and Dad. And it was my revenge as well. Never piss an author off if you didn’t want to end up as a bad guy in a book.
“Were you going to?” Skye said. She and Lucy were my bridesmaids. And they were in hot pink dresses—my favorite color.
“Of course she wasn’t,” Lucy said. “Look at her! She’s gorgeous. Very bridal. And brides don’t work on honeymoons. It’s totally illegal. Now come here,” she said to me. “We need to take a picture.”
Lucy gestured to Skye and Mom, then took a selfie with the four of us.
“I wish we could have rock star weddings all the time,” Skye said. “You wouldn’t believe how well the kids behaved after I told them that if they didn’t, they weren’t coming.”
I laughed. “Well. I don’t know if there are going to be more weddings.” The other three members of the band weren’t anywhere close to matrimony. Even Cole, who’d been engaged for a while, hadn’t set a date.