Exactly one hour later there’s a soft knock at the door before Jackson enters. “You ready?”

There’s a pit in my stomach and I want to scream no at the top of my lungs but instead I nod and stand.

It’s time. No more avoiding. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

I grab my stuff and he stands back as I walk out of my office. The hallway is dark and I frown. “Who turned off the lights?”

He doesn’t say anything, just takes my hand and leads me toward the main dining room.

“What’s going on? Where is everyone?” I can see into the room and it’s also dark. I grumble. “There’s no way they’re done with their side work, I’ll need to stop and talk to Leanne before I can leave.”

In answer he squeezes my hand and I push through the door leading to the dining room. Classical music swells and I freeze, my head cocking to listen to the familiar notes. “What’s going on?”

“Jillian told me this was your favorite.” He stops, turns me to face him. I look up at him and he pushes a lock of my hair behind my cheek. “It’s just like you to surprise me.”

“What’s going on here?” My throat is tight.

“I’m walking you home.”

“Where is everyone?”

“I sent them home.” He brushes his thumb over my jaw. “They said they’d come in early tomorrow to finish up.” He lifts my fingers to his lips. “Come with me.”

My heart is pounding so loud I can barely hear myself think. Unable to speak I nod. He leads me through the main dining room to a small private room I use for intimate parties. The door is frosted, and the walls house wines, creating a cellar feel.

He pushes open the door and the room is lit by hundreds of candles and filled with roses of every color imaginable.

“Jackson.” His name is breathless on my lips. “What. What is this?”

“I had some help.” He smiles down at me. “I couldn’t figure out what grand gesture to do, so I just did them all.”

I blink. “What?”

He shrugs, scrubbing his hand over the back of his neck. “I realized I needed to show you, so I’m doing every cliché, horrible, cheesy romantic thing I can think of since I’m obviously hopeless on my own.”

I’m stunned. I wave a hand around the room. “You did this? For me? But you hate stuff like this?”

“I do.” He laughs. “I wanted to show you, to do something I hated for you. To prove to you.” He points toward the table. “Sit down.”

I cannot believe this. I’m stunned that he’s taken the time and the effort to do something he’d clearly hate.

This is so not Jackson, and yet, somehow it’s exactly like him. Like the Jackson he might be if he wasn’t always so guarded.

I take a seat and he moves away before returning and placing a big box of Fanny May candy in front of me. “Walgreens was the only place open, so my choices were limited, sorry.”

I open the box and take out a pixie. “These are my favorites.” I take a bite, letting the chocolate, caramel and nuts melt in my mouth before handing it over to him.

He pops the rest in his mouth, chewing slowly before nodding his approval. “It’s pretty good.”

It is, like a memory of a time I was young and carefree. “Every family party we ever had growing up my mom would buy a box of Fanny May.”

“I’d like to meet your family.”

“You would?”

He gazes down at me. “More than anything.”

My throat tightens, I don’t know what to say.

I’m saved from having to speak because he sits down next to me and pushes a thin, plastic case toward me.

I picked it up and in his bold scrawl he’s written, Mixtape for Gwen. Love, Jackson.

My eyes well. “You made me a mix tape?”

“I did.”

My vision blurs as I stare down at it. “But nobody uses CDs anymore.”

He plucks it from my fingers and opens the case. “Sending you a Spotify playlist didn’t have the same effect.”

From the floor he grabs a small boom box and when he presses the button the lid pops open. He grins at me. “Another Walgreens purchase. I can’t believe they still make these.”

I’m utterly charmed, and I can only stare at him. “Me either.”

He winks at me and “In Your Eyes” by Peter Gabriel comes on.

I gasp, covering my mouth with my hands. “Oh my god, the Say Anything song at the end. Jillian?”

He nods and brushes his fingers over my arm. “I hope someday I know all this stuff on my own, but we didn’t get into 80’s classics in between sex. She said it was one of your guilty pleasure movies.”

“It is.”

“She said I’m supposed to hold the boom box over my head, but that seems a little over the top to me.” He narrows his gaze on me. “But if it’s important to you.”

My resistance is draining away by the second. I laugh. “It’s not.”

“That’s a good sound, I miss that sound so much, Gwyneth.”

I blink, the words catching in my throat. “Me too, Jackson.”

“I want you to know something.”

“Okay.”

He leans over and his fingers slide over my neck, sending an explosion of tingles rushing over me. “This next thing practically killed me.”

“Okay,” I choke out.

He brushes a thumb over my lips. “If I didn’t love you so much I’d never do this, but this is the only way I can think of to grovel.”

“What is it?”

“You’ll find out.” He takes my hand and pulls me from the seat. “It’s time to walk you home.”

“Okay.” He starts to pull me out of the room, but I stop.

I point to the candles. “We have to put them out.”

“Don’t worry, I’ve got it taken care of.” He smiles down at me. “I’m guessing burning down your restaurant isn’t the best way to woo you.”

I give him the first genuine smile I’ve had in weeks. “It might be a setback when you’re doing such a good job.”

“Good.” His gaze flickers to my mouth. “I haven’t tasted you in too long, and I want to kiss you more than I want my next breath. But if I start, I’ll never stop, and I still have things planned for you.”

I nod, practically shaking.

There’s hope for us, I don’t know how yet, but there’s hope.

He takes my hand and we walk outside. I start laughing, shaking my head. “Oh my god, you didn’t?”

“I did.”

I cover my face, shaking my head. “This is ridiculous.”

He rubs a hand over my back. “It is. But it would have taken me weeks to plan something and after being without you for far too long, I don’t have weeks left in me. So I went for over the top instead.”

“You succeeded.”

He pulls me close and kisses my temple. “And I’m not done yet.”

“Is this what killed you?”

“Nope.” He grins down at me. “It gets worse.”

I stare at the horse-drawn carriage that’s waiting for us in all its cheesy gloriousness. “I don’t see how that’s possible.”

“It was either go big or go home.” He meets my eyes. “And I’m not going home without you.”

It’s working. I can see the hope shining in her eyes and I’m so glad I didn’t wait for perfect. Gwen knows me—maybe not the nuances learned over time with someone—but she understands me. She knows this crazy romantic stuff is not the norm for me. That the only way I’d pull out these kinds of tricks was for the woman I love.

She understands the significance.

I started planning as soon as I realized what I needed to do, enlisting her friends and coworkers in on my plot.

Over the course of the evening, whenever Gwen wasn’t looking, we worked to make it happen.

So here I am, about to be carted around in a horse-drawn carriage, neither of us wants, to prove my love.

It’s a logic only Gwen would understand.

We climb in and as we settle into the seat she shakes her head at me. “I can’t believe you did this.”

“Well, believe it.” I put my arm around her and pull her close. “It’s the last time, so enjoy the ride.”

We clop down the street and the driver takes the route I’d instructed. When we get to the park, I spot the flicker of lights up ahead.

She straightens, craning her neck to see. “What’s going on?”

“You’ll find out soon enough.” This is probably the most embarrassing thing I’ve ever done in my life, but with the look on her face, it’s worth it.

We come to the group of benches, lit up by torches held by Gwen’s group of friends. Leo’s on one of the benches, and he starts singing when the carriage comes to a stop.

His voice is loud, clear and beautiful as the words to “Can’t Take My Eyes Off of You” fills the night air.

Gwen looks at me, her blue eyes impossibly bright. “The song from Ten things I hate about you.”

I shrug. Of course I’d never heard about these movies until Jillian told me, but they make my girl happy so I’ll watch them in the future as another way to understand her. “Another favorite?”

“Yes.”

“I can’t sing for shit,” I tell her.

“That’s okay,” she says. “I’d rather you be here.”

When the last of the notes drain away, we move on and her friends all cheer and throw confetti at us as we pass.

She grins at me. “Oh my god, this is horrible.”

“I know.” I take her hand and squeeze. “I’m not done yet.”

We head in the direction of her condo and when we get close, my nerves start kicking in. I want this, more than anything, but in my head we’d talk first and leap second.

I know now that’s not possible.

The only way is to leap. To fling myself off the cliff like that day by the lake when our love affair started.

I don’t have the answers.

Neither does she.

But we have to jump, and find our way together.

Besides Natalie, it’s the scariest thing I’ve ever done in my life.

And I’m going to go for it, without hesitation.

The carriage pulls up in front of her building and we get out, walking through the entrance and to the stairs.

You can hear a pin drop as we walk up to her floor, the silence is thick and filled with portent. As we make our way down the hall, she pulls out her keys.

I take a deep breath.

I’ll have her tonight, but that’s no longer good enough for me.

I want her for always.

She opens the door and steps inside, stilling at the sight of her kitchen table lit by candles. She walks over to it, and stares.

I come to stand next to her.

She points at the center of the table. “This is what killed you.”

I nod. “This is what killed me.”

She looks up at me, smiling as a tear slides down her cheek. “I love it.”

“Then it was worth it.”

“You made me a box cake.”

I shake my head at the offending cake I’d been forced to make to prove myself to her. Strawberry cake and cream cheese frosting from a can. I repress my shudder and run my fingers down her arm. “I had no choice, I heard it was your favorite growing up.”

“It was, isn’t that terrible?”

I grin down at her. “It did make me question everything I know about you.”

“I was six. I loved pink.”

“I forgive you.” I rub her back. “Do we have to eat it?”

“Of course.” She laughs. “I promise you’ll love it.”

“I highly doubt that.” I lean down and whisper in her ear, “I’ll eat it off you, that’s a romantic gesture, right?”

She tilts her head as though she’s contemplating. “I’ll count it.”

I pull her toward her bedroom. “Come on.”

“Should we talk first?” Her feet drag a little.

I push ahead. “No.”

Before I open the door, I say, “Close your eyes.”

“Okay.” Her lashes flutter closed to rest on her cheeks.

I enter her bedroom, also lit by candlelight. Taking her hand I lead her into the room, positioning her in front of the bed before standing behind her. When she’s right where I want her, I say, “Okay open them.”

Her shoulders start to shake and her fingertips press against her lips.

I rub my hands up and down her arms before sliding around her waist and pulling her tight against me. “I love you, Gwyneth, and I don’t want to live without you.”

She appears frozen with what I hope is surprise and not horror.

When she doesn’t speak, I continue. “I know it’s asking a lot, and I know we have a ton of stuff to work out. I know I’m a bastard, and I was horrible to you. I’m going to do whatever I can to make it up to you. But, us, our future, I want to work it all out together. I’m committed. And I’ll spend every day proving that to you, if you’ll let me.”

“Yes.” The word is a whisper, but it feels like an explosion inside me. She nods her head. “I will.”

She’s answering the question on the table. The one spelled out in horrible rose petals across her bed. “Promise? No matter what?”

“I promise.”

“You’ll take the risk on me?”

“I will.”

Relief floods through me. “Then I have one more thing for you.”

I go to her dresser and grab the wrapped box. I walk back to this woman that’s turned my entire life upside down and hand it to her.

It’s silly, I know that, but this entire night is silly and I no longer care. I just want to feel like I’ve won her, like I deserve her.

She opens it and starts to laugh.

“It’s the best I could do on short notice.” I pick up the ring pop. “So, Gwen Johnson, will you please do me the honor of being my wife?”

“Cherry is my favorite.” She looks up at me.

“We’ll get you a proper ring tomorrow.”

“I have a condition.”

“What’s that?”

“I want to adopt Natalie.”

I lean down and lick at her lips. “We wouldn’t want it any other way.”

“Then yes.”

“Good.” My mouth claims hers.

I’m going to get the girl of my dreams.

My daughter is going to get the mother of hers.

I couldn’t ask for anything more.