Because he loves me—eek, loves me—that much.
Because this gorgeous wild man loves me the same way I love him.
Because we’ve already saved each other.
And that makes me brave enough to face anything.
“What are you asking me, Paxton?”
He smiles slowly. “Considering I brought you here, woman, I think you’ve got a good guess. But I’d better do it nice and proper, huh?”
Oh. My. God.
Yes, I know it’s coming, and it still doesn’t take the edge off.
I ignite like a firework factory when Alaska lets go of my hands, takes a step back, and suddenly, unbelievably drops down.
He falls to one knee.
I cover my mouth with both hands, breathing in sharply as he slips a hand into his pocket and withdraws a tiny black velvet box.
His smile sears me, hopeful and bright, as his thumb flicks it open.
There’s a slender golden band with a diamond setting inside. It has a single fractional dot of gold embedded in the center of the gemstone like the heart of a strange flower, a single burning star against the white.
“So, Felicity Randall,” Alaska whispers, so much emotion in that rolling thunder, rich and inviting and enveloping me in his protection even as he short-circuits me with joy. “I can’t imagine a better life than one with you, and I’m an impatient man. I want that life to start now and last forever—if you’ll have me. If I haven’t just made things ten times worse when I doubt you ever want to see anything gold again...but I’m a sucker for traditions.” His grin widens, a teasing spark in his eyes. “Will you do me the honor of being my wife?”
Inwardly, I’m screaming.
Every last part of me.
I can’t help myself.
I spring off my knees and hurl myself at him.
He’s so tall even kneeling that I don’t have to bend to wrap my arms around his shoulders, burying my face in his neck, in his beard, in his everything, struggling not to burst out crying like a crazy woman.
“You giant, giant dork,” I rasp out, my throat tight, my lips aching with my smile. “Just...just...put it on me! Alaska, you have to slide it on. That’s the way it’s done. You have to do it.”
“And you’ve got to say the magic word,” he rumbles.
Damn him.
How could I forget?
But a simple “sir, yes, sir” wouldn’t be me.
I feel his laughter rising like an earthquake between us before erupting out of his mouth as he wraps his arms around me.
I can feel the ring, pressing against the small of my back.
I can feel his mouth go rigid and hot under mine. Then I hit him with a volley of kisses, quick and unrelenting, overflowing with sweetness before I manage to snap my face away.
“Is that a yes, Fliss?”
“Yes!” I shriek, and it’s back to pressing kiss after blinding kiss over his jaw, his cheek, working my way to his mouth—where I seize his lips breathlessly. Like I can imprint that yes on him and let him taste, feel, know how happy he’s made me when we’re tangled up so close it’s like we’re one person. “Yes, yes, yes, God yes.”
Groaning, Paxton buries his fingers in my hair and pulls me in for a deeper kiss.
I taste every beat of my heart. Every sigh of my breath. Every fluttering butterfly taking flight in my stomach.
All captured in one awesome melding of the senses and the gentle graze of teeth.
He kisses me like I’m a butterfly myself, and he’d rather die than crush the dust from my wings.
He kisses like he knows he’s the only wind I need to soar.
And I kiss him right back, gasping at the intensity.
I almost don’t want to let go when he slowly draws back, his mouth red and his eyes raging with the same emotion threatening to rip me apart like confetti in the most wonderful mess.
“Gonna need that hand, Fliss,” he teases.
Sniffling, wiping at my eyes, I offer him my trembling fingers.
I can’t look away as he carefully plucks the ring out of the box and slips it onto my finger.
It’s warm like it’s crafted from love’s white-hot brightness. Its weight sits just right on my finger, this perfect presence that feels like an anchor holding me down, holding me steady.
I’m smiling my head off as I look down at it, glittering on my finger in the emerging starlight overhead.
“You know, Felicity Charter has a pretty nice ring to it,” I murmur. “I...I’m glad I know what happened to my dad, but...I’m ready to leave the Randall curse behind. And the Randall name.”
“You ask me, there never was a curse.” Standing, Alaska takes my small hands in his huge paws again. Just one of those hands could guide me anywhere, and I feel it as I look at him. “There was just the road that took you where you were meant to be, Fliss.”
He’s right.
I know he’s right.
But tonight, I feel like a fairy-tale princess, and he’s the charming prince who broke my evil spell with one glorious, sincere kiss.
Falling into his eyes, I can’t help but laugh.
There’s just too much giddiness bouncing around inside me, and I can’t stop it from coming out.
“Even if there’s no curse...are we going to keep the other tradition?” I sway closer to him. “Your timing’s good. Another week and the first frost would’ve killed all the flowers.”
“Got a better idea. Though the flowers would’ve been a good fallback if you’d decided you couldn’t stand to see another speck of gold again.” His eyes glitter with wickedness and humor. “Close your eyes and open your hands. Keep them together.”
I tilt my head curiously, wondering what he’s up to.
Only one way to find out...
Reluctantly, I let go of his hands and cup mine together, all too aware of the weight of the ring, trying not to fidget with it when I just want to touch it and never stop.
But I close my eyes and wait.
There’s a faint click, and then something pours into my palms.
Whisper-light at first, but growing heavier, a silky and almost liquid feeling like flour or sugar. I knit my brows together.
“What is that?”
“Almost done.” That weight in my palms grows just a little heavier before that clicking noise sounds again. “Okay. Open your eyes.”
I do, just in time to see Alaska closing a dark capsule with a few faint sparkles on the lid. The rest of its contents shine in my palm.
Gold dust.
Holy crap.
My palms are full of it, a soft mound of shimmering glitter finer than powder. The gentle evening breeze catches a few wisps and swirls it away from me.
I stare, my breath constricting.
“Is this...?”
“Real?” he finishes, chuckling. “As real as I am. It’s about all I ever found in that old mine up in Alaska. If you aren’t cursed, neither am I, but I figured there was no better way to let go of old memories and start making new ones.” He lifts his chin toward the cliff’s edge. “Go ahead. Make a wish.”
“I don’t need to,” I breathe. “I already have everything I need.”
But this handful of gold dust feels surprisingly heavy.
Like the promise of a bright future given form.
So, holding my hands up and smiling with a delighted laugh, I do it.