“Where are we going?”
He pulled her in and kissed her head. “What part of ‘it’s a surprise’ didn’t you understand?”
She pulled away to look at him a little closer, as if she would be able to read his mind. But he had a poker face on, so Miranda just sank into place beside him and enjoyed the feeling of being so utterly complete.
“Are we headed toward Hillwood?” she asked.
“Not telling.”
Miranda sat up, her mind ticking off possible reasons he would be taking her to this ritzy neighborhood. But nothing stuck. They were both so invested in their individual careers that they hadn’t given any serious thought to the idea of one of them moving. And they worked at spending their time together while being completely present, talking about what was happening in the here and now, not what might happen someday. Which was when Miranda realized that people who weren’t satisfied in the present fantasized about the future. People enamored with their everyday life stayed present.
“Jack,” she complained as they wound their way up a hillside. “Come on. At least giv
e me a—” They topped the grade, and Miranda’s words evaporated. She looked through every window to a spectacular three-hundred-sixty-degree view. “Wow. Just…wow.”
Jack shut the engine down, got out, and rounded the truck. He took Miranda by the hand and walked her to the center of the plateau.
“How could I have lived and worked here my whole life and never known this existed?” she asked.
“It’s not just you. Took four different real estate agents to find just the right spot.”
She turned her head to ask what that meant, but Jack wrapped his arms around her from behind and rested his chin on her head. “As you can see, there is an amazing sunset toward the west.” He took a quarter turn to face northwest. “There’s the Cumberland River.” Another quarter turn. “Then we have the Nashville skyline you’ve helped build, literally.” Another quarter turn. “You can see the sun rise over the airport this direction.” A final turn to face south. “And hill after beautiful rolling Tennessee hill as far as you can see.”
Miranda stroked her hands across his arms. “This is amazing. Feels like we’re on top of the world, doesn’t it?”
“We are.” He bent his head and kissed her neck. “When I’m with you, I always feel like I’m on top of the world.”
Miranda squeezed his forearms and tilted her head back to look up at him. “It’s so good to have you home.”
He grinned. “Hold that thought.”
Then he released her and ran to the truck.
“Jack…?” She laughed. “What are you doing?”
When he grabbed the tube and started back toward her, Miranda’s stomach took a thrilling, terrifying roller-coaster ride.
He grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the truck, where he rolled plans out across the truck’s hood. Miranda was so dumbstruck, Jack had to physically pull her hand to a corner of the plans to hold them flat on one side. He held them flat on the other.
Her gaze jumped to the border, where the project name was always printed. It read “Taylor Home.” She refocused on Jack. “You’re building a home here?”
“No.” He met her gaze with a weighty, meaningful look. “I’m building our home here.”
Miranda’s mouth dropped open. Her lips moved, but no words came out.
Jack put up a hand. “Don’t say anything yet. Just see what I’ve done. I’ll change anything to make it exactly what you want.”
Her mind was still floating in a confused haze when he started explaining the design. A stunning architectural statement with the elegance of Jack’s designs using materials from Miranda’s obsession—storage containers. The design he’d created took full advantage of every view. The space wasn’t massive, but Miranda would definitely call it sprawling, with an open floorplan for comfortable living, room for guests, and space for lots of entertaining, indoors and out. Even the landscaping had been laid out, complete with decks on every side of the house and a pool.
Overwhelmed, Miranda put a hand to her forehead. “What is this?” She looked at him, and despite the internal warnings to keep her heart on lockdown, it escaped the cage and winged wildly through her chest. “Are you moving? Are you going to live here?”
“Yes. I’m moving.” Without breaking eye contact, he let the plans roll back into a tube. His expression sobered. “And I want us to live here.”
Miranda cut a look at the drawings, then around at the land, her mind whizzing in a dozen different directions. “We haven’t… But your work… Jack, you didn’t…”
She put her hands on either side of her head and closed her eyes, trying to still her mind. The feel of Jack’s hand on hers pulled her eyes open again.
He was on one knee. Her heart flew right into her throat and stuck there.