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Four months later

I woke to the smell of coffee and the sound of laughter from the kitchen.

Four months. Four months since I’d moved into Lane’s house—our house—and every morning still felt like a gift.

Fall had drifted away, and winter was settling in. Snow covered the scarred ridge line, and it was beautiful again.

I padded down the hallway in one of Lane’s old academy sweat shirts and a pair of old jeans, following the sound of voices.

Remy was at the table, coloring. Julia was at the stove, flipping pancakes. And Lane was leaning against the counter, coffee mug in hand, watching them both with that soft, relaxed expression I’d come to love.

He looked up when I entered, and his smile widened. “Morning, beautiful.”

“Morning.” I crossed to him, and he pulled me into his arms, kissing me thoroughly despite the audience.

“Ew, you guys are so mushy,” Remy said, but she was grinning.

“You love it,” I said, stealing Lane’s coffee mug.

“Maybe.”

Julia set a plate of pancakes on the table. “Eat up.”

Right. Today was the day. The day Lane had been planning for the last month.

Today, probably, he was going to propose. He’d promised me that once Blake was out of our lives and on his way to prison, we would get married. Blake Paulson’s sentencing had happened three days ago. Ten years. He’d gotten ten years for stalking me and assaulting us both. He would have more time stacked up from the other states, too.

Today, Lane was going to ask me to marry him. I had a feeling in my gut. Plus, I kind of already knew. Because Remy had accidentally let it slip while we were coloring two nights ago.

“Daddy has a special surprise for you on Saturday,” she’d said. “But it’s a secret! I’m not supposed to tell!”

I’d played dumb, but inside, my heart had been racing. “What kind of surprise?”

“The best kind. The kind that means you’ll be my mom for real. Not just my extra mom.”

So yeah. I knew.

But I was going to let Lane have his moment. Because he’d been planning this for weeks, recruiting Julia and Remy and Cameron to help. And I loved him too much to ruin his surprise.

After breakfast, Lane grabbed my hand. “Come with me. I want to show you something.”

He led me out to the back porch where we’d had our first real conversation months ago. But now, the porch had been transformed. In the winter, there were screens to drop to insulate the porch. The screens were dropped, blocking out the cold and snow, and the porch looked nothing like it had the night before. Flowers were everywhere—in pots, wound through the spindles of the deck, hanging overhead. Sunflowers and daisies, my favorite. And they were all real.

“Lane—” My voice broke. “What is all this? Where did you get all the flowers?”

“This is me, trying to do this right.” He pulled me into the center of the porch, his hands gentle on my waist. “Jo, these last six months have been the happiest of my life. You’ve brought light and love and laughter back into our home. I wasn’t sure there would ever be lightness after Holly died, but you’ve brought it. You’ve been a mother to Remy in all the ways that matter. You’ve been a partner to me. You’ve been... everything.”

Tears were already streaming down my face.

“I know we haven’t been together long. I know some people would say that it’s too fast. But Jo, when you know, you know. And I know.” He dropped to one knee, pulling a small velvet box from his pocket. “Josephine Bennelli, will you marry me? Will you be my wife, Remy’s mother, and my partner for the rest of our lives?”

I was crying too hard to speak, so I just nodded frantically.

“Yes,” I finally managed. “Yes, yes, yes. A thousand times, yes.”

Lane slipped the ring onto my finger—a simple, beautiful diamond that caught the morning light—and then he was on his feet, pulling me into his arms, kissing me like his life depended on it.

Behind us, I heard clapping. I turned to see Remy and Julia watching from the doorway, both of them crying happy tears.