Stone Cold - Page 68

A few months ago, we ran into Jude at the farmer’s market. With jeans, a t-shirt, and a pretty brunette on his arm, he looked every bit the part of the man I know and a far cry from the man he was when he was with Stassi.

The two of them calling off their wedding was a wise move on both parts.

I can spot a divorce coming a mile away, and those two were about to book a one-way ticket.

He gave me a wave from across the way, followed by a bittersweet smile of sorts. I wish I could say he grew up and learned the errors of his way. I also wish I could say he was happy for me, the same way I was happy for him all that time ago.

Paul has assured me everything worked out the way it was supposed to.

Maybe with a little time, we can revive the remains of our friendship and see if it still has a pulse. For now, it lives on in my memories. But I don’t spend much time thinking about the past these days.

I don’t live there anymore.

The line moves again, and I pull out my phone to go over my proposal speech again.

Early in our relationship, Jovie made me promise that we’d never talk about getting engaged nor would we look at rings together. She wanted it to be a genuine surprise.

I check the ring box, inspecting the inside to ensure the antique rose-cut stone is still securely inside.

With my heart hammering in my chest, I wait patiently for my turn. And the minute I’m up, Jovie squeals, running out from behind her signing table and throwing her arms around me.

“You came to surprise me,” she says. “That’s so sweet.”

“Actually.” Digging into my pocket, I produce the ring box and promptly fall to one knee.

Her red lips form a perfect O-shape as she realizes what’s happening.

“Jovie Annabeth Vincent,” I say, “You’re the love of my life. My blue sky. My lighthouse. You’re my personal plot twist and the song that’s been stuck in my head for the past ten years. I want to spend the rest of my life falling asleep with you in my arms and waking up to your blaring podcasts as you take your hour-long showers and use all the hot water.”

She chuckles, as do the readers who have gathered around us, forming a half circle.

“Will you marry me?” I prop the box open, but before I can retrieve the actual ring, she’s already jumping up and down, physically unable to contain her excitement—a good sign.

“Yes, yes!” She pulls me up from the floor and throws herself around me, nearly knocking me over. “I’ll marry you.”

The half-circle of readers surrounding us cheer and applaud.

And just like that, Jovie Vincent gets her happy-ever-after … after all.

Tags: Winter Renshaw Romance
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