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Chapter 12
Dinner was delicious—a hearty beef stew with crusty bread, followed by an apple tart that showcased the first fruits of the fall harvest. We talked easily about our day, about the upcoming festival, about the small dramas of small-town life that had become my world as much as his. It was comfortable and domestic in a way I’d never imagined wanting, yet now couldn’t imagine living without.
As I helped clear the dishes, I noticed Shep growing increasingly distracted, a tension in his movements that hadn’t been there earlier.
“Everything okay?” I asked as I loaded the dishwasher, my organizational system for optimal cleaning efficiency now well-established in what had once been his bachelor kitchen.
“Perfect,” he said quickly—too quickly. “Why?”
I raised an eyebrow, setting the last plate in its designated spot. “Because you’ve been fidgeting for the last twenty minutes, and you’ve checked your pocket at least four times since dessert.”
He froze, his hand halfway to said pocket. “Observant as always, Inspector.”
“It’s my job to notice details,” I reminded him, closing the dishwasher and turning to face him fully. “So what’s in the pocket?”
For a moment, he looked like he might deny it. Then, with a deep breath that seemed to center him, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small velvet box.
My heart stopped, then restarted at double speed.
“I had a whole speech planned,” he said, his voice slightly rough. “About how we met and how you drove me crazy and how I knew from that first day, even when I was shouting at you about tradition.”
He opened the box, revealing a simple but elegant platinum band. “But I think what it comes down to is this: I love you, Evan Matthews. I love your lists and your protocols and the way you organize the spice rack alphabetically. I love how brave you were when you discovered what I am. I love watching you become part of this town, part of my life.” He took a deep breath. “I want you to be my partner—officially, permanently, in every way possible.”
I stared at the ring, then at his face, my heart pounding so hard I was sure his enhanced hearing could detect it. “It’s only been two months,” I said weakly, the words automatic rather than a true objection.
His smile was gentle, understanding. “I know. And if you need more time, I’ll wait. But I also know what I feel, what the wolf in me recognized immediately. You’re my mate, Evan. My other half. The timing doesn’t change that.”
I looked at the ring again, simple and elegant and perfectly suited to my tastes. Of course it was—Shep had been paying attention to every detail about me from the beginning, even when we were antagonists.
“I don’t have the best track record with relationships,” I admitted, voicing my deepest fear. “I’m difficult. Demanding. Obsessive about details most people find annoying.”
“I know.” His smile widened. “It’s what I love about you.”
“I make lists for everything. I have strong opinions about proper dishwasher loading techniques. I reorganized your entire linen closet by color, fabric composition, and thread count.”
“I noticed,” he said dryly. “It was very helpful the third time you lectured me about optimal towel folding methods.”
I laughed despite myself, the sound slightly watery as emotion threatened to overcome me. “You really want that for the rest of your life?”
His expression turned serious, his free hand coming up to cup my face. “I want you for the rest of my life. Every list, every protocol, every lecture about proper filing systems.” His thumb stroked my cheek gently. “You don’t have to answer now. Take all the time you need to make your pro-con lists and risk assessments. I’ll still be here.”
I looked into those amber eyes that had fascinated me from the first moment, that had glowed gold in moments of passion, that had always looked at me with a mixture of exasperation and adoration that made me feel both seen and cherished.
“Yes,” I said, the word slipping out without conscious thought.
His eyes widened. “Yes?”
I nodded, more certain with each passing second. “Yes. I’ll marry you.”
For a moment, he simply stared at me, as though he hadn’t quite expected this outcome despite his confidence. Then his face broke into the most beautiful smile I’d ever seen, joy radiating from him in almost palpable waves.
“No lists? No analysis period?” he teased, though I could hear the emotion beneath his light tone.
“Oh, there will definitely be lists,” I assured him, stepping closer. “Wedding planning requires extensive organization. But the decision?” I placed my hand over his, still holding the ring box. “That doesn’t require analysis.”
He removed the ring from its box with slightly trembling fingers, then took my left hand in his. “May I?”
I nodded, watching with blurring vision as he slipped the band onto my finger. It fit perfectly—of course it did. Shep would have ensured that detail was correct, just as he ensured the safety of his town, the happiness of his people, the well-being of his mate.
