I couldn’t stop the tears if I tried. And I don’t care. Because this man loves me, tears and all.
“Of course.” I wrap my arms around his neck and hold on tight. “Of course, I’ll marry you. Can it be a holiday wedding? I mean, it’s too soon for this year, but if you’re okay with a year-long engagement, we can plan it for next year. I don’t know if you’ll want to get married here or in London, but—”
He presses a finger to my lips, shutting me up.
“I have to do this first,” he says and slips the ring onto my finger. “And this.”
He kisses me silly. Every time he kisses me like this—which is pretty much every day—I go positively gooey.
I’m a lucky girl.
He leans back and brushes a lock of my hair out of my eyes.
“We’ll figure out the rest. Together.”