“Guinevere, no! Sit!” Ashby said sternly to the St. Bernard puppy at his feet. She looked up at him with a doggy grin and wagged her tail. “Merlin’s been teaching you bad habits again, hasn’t he?” Ashby grumbled as he got back to work. He wasn’t really mad at his and Trent’s rambunctious puppy, though. He never could be.

He still didn’t want her and Merlin running around the bar and wrecking everything before Trent arrived. Ashby would hate for all his and his team’s hard work to go to waste.

It was a double event tonight. The bar and restaurant were having their grand reopenings and all the staff would be in attendance as well as guests from the local towns and further afield. Ashby didn’t need to be there, setting up himself. The events team were perfectly capable. But he was so proud, he wanted to have his boots on the ground, mucking in with the others.

He’d finished tweaking the table with all their new brochures on display, then smoothed down his skirt as he moved through the crowd over to the floral display.

He had leggings on under the skirt as well as his fluffy boots. But there was no mistaking his lacy blouse, lip gloss and eye makeup as anything other than ladylike. But, as he’d explained to Trent before, he wasn’t trying to look like a woman. He wasn’t wearing a bra or trying to alter his body shape in any way. He just felt like being pretty for the resort’s big party. And so far, the staff and guests had responded with overwhelming positivity.

Part of the relaunch and new marketing campaign had been because Ashby had proposed to Bob and the other managers that they make it known that the Grand Resort was now a rainbow-friendly vacation spot. Not exclusively LGBT, but somewhere which welcomed all guests, no matter their orientation. Bob had been very nervous thinking it would drive other customers away to begin with and Ashby couldn’t blame him. But ultimately, they decided that any guests that had a problem with a queer-friendly space could go on holiday elsewhere.

So Ashby wanted to feel free from gender constraints for the big opening. The way he felt free in so many aspects of his life now. He was liberated by his new job, thriving in a way he never thought possible. He was also completely, almost painfully, in love.

He sighed down at Guinevere, his thoughts turning bittersweet. Because this wasn’t just a party for the reopening.

It was also Trent’s farewell party.

He wouldn’t be gone for long. His next film was only scheduled to keep him away for six weeks and then he would be back until October. Ashby knew he would miss him like crazy, but it was fine. He had so much occupying his time now, he wouldn’t be bored. Trent promised they would talk every day, and Ashby thought he might fly out and visit him in Monaco halfway through the production.

He could tack it onto his trip back to London. He needed to finalize the sale of his flat and see some of his friends. There were a couple of them who were convinced he’d lost his mind. He needed to assure them he had never been happier in his whole life.

He had purpose. He was in love. He was living and expressing himself authentically. Now, if he could just wrap his head around this damn visa business he’d be all set.

Even though his mum was American, it still wasn’t easy. He was nearing the end of his tourism visa, and he had to leave the country. But he couldn’t leave Trent. He could extend it to a business visa for another three months, but then he would have to leave the country before he could come back on another visa. If the State Department saw any reason to ban him, they had the right to keep him out of the country for five whole years. There was no way Ashby could stand that. If his green card application would just hurry up…

He shook his head. This wasn’t the day to be worrying about that. In any case, he wasn’t allowed to wallow in his thoughts for long. Partygoers continuously came up and fussed over Guinevere. Some eyed Ashby’s outfit warily. Others were brave enough to compliment him on it. Ashby felt content in a whirlwind of people.

The bar was packed and the restaurant had been re-arranged to have a buffet for the guests. The new décor was a slick and sophisticated scheme with electric blues and metallic finishes. They had officially renamed the place Summit, and Darnell was busy wowing patrons with his impressive mixology skills, making drinks from their newly revamped and extensive cocktail list.

Kadie was sitting at the bar cheering him on every time he threw up a spinning bottle or set something on fire. After a month’s hard work on Ashby’s part, she had finally asked Darnell out. As Ashby predicted, Darnell didn’t care that she was ten years older than him. He’d been too shy to ask her out. By the looks of it, they were very happy together.

Bob was looking like a new man, attending the party with his son who was looking healthy and happy. Bob had lost ten pounds and got a haircut. No longer did he drown his sorrows at the bar every night. He and Ashby had worked their arses off to improve almost every aspect of the resort. Painters and decorators had been working around the clock to modernize every single room. The spa was expanding and now had several luxury suppliers that Skye had cried over when she’d tried the products. The gift shop had been cleared out and was now selling beautiful and charming items from local businesses, most of which were Arapaho.

It made Ashby’s heart swell to see Trent and his dad rebuilding their relationship. Ashby had tentatively made plans with his own parents to come over and visit at Christmas so they could meet each other. It seemed crazy that he was thinking that far ahead. They had never even met Gordon in the two years Ashby had been with him. But that was the difference with Trent. He knew they had a future together. They made each other so incredibly happy.

Trent loved Ashby for exactly who he was. He never tried to change him or force him into a box. He loved Ashby no matter what he was wearing. He was helping him work through his anxieties and making sure his confidence grew every day. It didn’t hurt that Ashby had never had better sex in his whole life. Their obvious chemistry in the bedroom alone was enough to give him faith that this was a long-term thing.

It wasn’t just fucking, though. It was communication, and that was why it made Ashby so sure of their compatibility. Trent still wasn’t all that great at using his words. But when those failed him, he used his hands, his lips, his whole body. He never took Ashby for granted, always making sure he was happy and getting what he needed, in and out of the bedroom.

“What are you smiling about?” Maeve asked. She’d snuck up on Ashby as he was fussing with the fresh flower arrangements.

He arched an eyebrow down at Guinevere. “Some guard dog you are,” he said. She was already scrabbling at Maeve’s legs though, looking for the treats she always carried in her pockets.

“Nah-uh,” she said, wagging her finger at him. “You had goo-goo eyes. Were you thinking about your handsome man?”

“Maybe,” Ashby said with a grin. “Were you thinking about your handsome man?”

Maeve tutted as she fed Guinevere too many treats as usual. “I don’t know what you mean,” she said haughtily. Ashby sniggered.

“Well, both our men just walked in, in case you’re interested?” he teased. She snapped around and looked where Trent was walking into the bar with his dad who had Merlin on a leash. As much as his behavior had improved, it was better to be safe than sorry.

“Is my lipstick okay?” she asked in a whisper.

“Smile,” Ashby instructed. “Yep. Nothing on your teeth. You’re good. Not that you care,” he added with a wink.

“Oh, shut up,” she said, fluffing her hair, then smiling over at Mr. Charles Sr.

She went to go greet him while Trent made his way over to Ashby. He was stopped several times by people wanting to say hello and wish him good luck. Ashby waited patiently, though. He used the opportunity to get two glasses of Champagne for them and sit at the small table for two he’d reserved for them. Guinevere trotted by his feet and had a good sniff around the table legs while they waited for Trent to join them. Ashby reapplied his lip gloss and tried not to feel nervous. God, he was going to miss seeing Trent every day.

“Hey,” Trent said. He leaned down to kiss Ashby on the cheek before shrugging off his leather jacket and sitting next to him. “Sorry to keep you.”

Ashby shook his head. “You’re the man of the hour,” he said. He picked up the two flutes and passed one to Trent. He was looking ruggedly handsome as usual in a Henley that clung to every delicious, bulging muscle. “Cheers.”

“Cheers,” Trent agreed. They tapped their glasses together, the ‘ting’ ringing through the air. Ashby had hired a harpist for the evening and people were chatting easily over the music. It meant he and Trent didn’t have to shout to hear each other.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, squashing down the apprehension in his belly. Trent might have been leaving tomorrow, but it wasn’t for long and they would talk every day.

Trent bit his lip. “Nervous,” he said.

Ashby tilted his head in confusion. “About flying?” he asked.

Trent smiled and shook his head. “Not about that,” he said. “About you.”

Ashby blinked, even more confused. “Why would I make you nervous? I mean, I know this visa thing is being more of an arse than I thought it would be, but I’ll almost certainly be here when you get back.” Ashby hoped. Oh, god, did he hope.

Trent licked his lips. “You know I love you, so much,” he said.

Despite all the progress he had made, fear still shot through Ashby’s chest. Trent was not breaking up with him. He needed to relax. Even if there was an ocean between them, they would still find a way to be together. “I love you, too,” he said, taking Trent’s bigger hand between his two.

Trent bit his lip. “I think about our future a lot,” Trent said. “I…I’d like to do something to make it more certain. But only if you want. It’s, well, I guess it’s something I’d want to do at some point, so I figured why not now?” He lifted Ashby’s hand, kissing the knuckle. “I don’t want you to have any doubts about us,” he said warmly.

Ashby’s heart was skipping in his chest. “I don’t have any doubts,” he said, impressed that he managed to keep his voice steady. But it was the truth. After three months together, he couldn’t imagine his life without Trent.

“I’m glad to hear it,” Trent said. He exhaled in what sounded like relief and smiled.

Then he reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a ring box.

Ashby couldn’t help it. He’d always sworn he wouldn’t be one of those people who gasped and covered their mouths, with tears in their eyes. But until someone asked you to marry them, he realized you never really knew.

“I know,” Trent continued, “that this is soon. I’m not saying we have to act on it for a while. But…well, visas are much easier if you’re engaged.”

He opened the box to reveal an elegant platinum band inside.

Ashby blinked, fighting to say something as he lowered his hands. “You’re proposing to get me a green card?” he asked, only half-teasing.

Trent shook his head. “I’m proposing because I can’t imagine not spending the rest of my life with you. I know you’re the one, Ashby Wilcott. You made me whole. You’re my one in a million. If it will help you stay in the country, I want to do it now. Because I’m crazy about you, gorgeous. I don’t want anything to come between us.” He bit his lip. “But if it’s too soon, I understand.”

“Shut up and kiss me,” Ashby said, flinging his arms around his fiancé. “Oh my god, I love you so much. Yes, yes!”

Trent hugged him close, shaking. “I love you too,” he said as Guinevere scampered around their feet, barking happily.

Trent made Ashby whole, too, he knew it. He’d lifted him up and helped him become the best possible version of who he could be. Yes, it was soon. But that was because it was just the beginning. They were on this journey into the unknown, growing every day, becoming stronger. Why wait when Ashby knew he only wanted to continue on this journey one way?

Together.