How the hell has it been a year already?

My life is a blur these days. First there was moving in with Will, then having Amelia over way more frequently. Pancake breakfasts, morning hikes, taking her to school with me, trying not to show her a lot of favoritism, kind of failing. It’s all been part of twelve wonderful, delirious months.

And now, here I am, back in the auditorium at Bay of Dreams. The kids are going to be auditioning tonight for You’re a Good Man, Charlie Brown. This time, I put my foot down. There will be no ridiculous political messages, nothing post-modern, only the pure and simple story of Charlie Brown, Snoopy, and their friends.

And the plight of migrants. I couldn’t find a way to keep that one out, but I’m sure we’re going to handle it very tastefully.

My footsteps echo on the floor as I walk over to the stage. I climb up the stairs, and stand there looking out at the long, empty space. Mom and Dad are going to love this show. They’re coming out for it, and to spend more time with Will and Amelia. They even agreed not to bring red noses or business cards. This play’s going to be purely my creation, with the help of the kids, of course.

As I put my bag down and head to the table at the back—nothing like moving the furniture now, to save time when they show up—I notice something. It’s a white box, of the pastry variety, and my stomach instantly rumbles. Man, my stomach is a pushy beast. Just the way I like it. Grinning, I flip the box open and…yes. Yes, there they are—the maple bacon donuts of heaven itself. I may just have had lunch, but it was soy bean salad with vegan goat cheese sprinkled on top. I barely got five forkfuls down.

Will likes to keep me fed. God, I love that man.

I lift a donut out of the box, bringing it to my lips with something like pre-orgasmic satisfaction…when I notice there’s a piece of folded paper on top of the donuts. At first I think it’s a receipt, but the paper quality’s too nice for that to be the case.

Yes, I notice things like paper quality. Who worked at a stationary store through college? Yours truly.

I unfold the note, which reads: Pond of tranquility. ASAP

That’s Will’s handwriting, and for an instant a quick twinge of concern hits me. Is he all right? Why is he communicating with me in pastry form? Does he know that’s something I want on the regular from now on? Never one to ignore a donut, I take a bite and walk outside.

The lawn is still and peaceful. The sun’s beginning to set, creating a slanting afternoon light over the brick patio and across the trees. I head down to the pond.

“Will?” When I get there, I find a bag from Dylan’s Candy Bar. It’s filled with ten million varieties of gummy candy. My favorite. Okay, is this like Hansel and Gretel? Is Will fattening me up for the oven? Is that a new role play game we’re getting involved with?

Is it wrong to say the idea turns me on a little?

There’s a note attached to the bag: By the pine

The pine is what Bay of Dreams calls the tallest tree on the premises. It’s a little further into the woods, so I wander the path, feeling like I’m in a confusing fairytale. A fairytale with bacon. The best kind.

There he is, standing by the tree, leaning against the trunk with his hands in his pockets. Dear god, that man is delicious. Screw the candy and donuts—that is the tastiest sight of all. He’s taken off his work clothes, and is dressed in a simple dark gray tee shirt, the one that perfectly picks out every line of his abs, pecs…man, I get lost every time I look at him. A little too lost, because I helpfully trip over a tree root and nearly go sprawling. I also nearly lose my treats in the process, which is unacceptable.

“Whoa!” Will’s arms are around me in a second, keeping me from wiping out on the path. He rights me but doesn’t let go. Just the response I was looking for. “I know I’m a lot to handle.”

He gives the rakish grin I love—second out of eight grins I’ve categorized so far. Then he kisses me, and heat pulses through me. Again, I nearly drop the donut. Man, I gotta eat this bad boy.

“I love the surprises, but any particular reason why?” I ask when we finally pull apart. Taking another bite of the donut, so it doesn’t go to waste, of course, I follow him back to the pine. Then I remember what time it is, and frown. “Also, shouldn’t you still be at work? The world of stocks won’t broker itself.”

Will laughs at that, then looks me over. His eyebrow cocked, he nods as if in appreciation. Well, it makes sense he appreciates. I am double fisting sugar. It’s sexy.

“There was one more thing, before I go and let you get to your auditions.” He shakes his head, a lock of dark hair falling in his eyes. I’d brush it away, but I might get maple sugar in it. “But they were out when I went to the store.”

“Please. You spoil me enough as it is.” I stand on my toes and kiss him. Does the fluttering ever go away? Because I don’t want it to.

“It was a Ring Pop.” He smiles against my mouth. “Strawberry.”

“Aw, my favorite! That’s okay. I shouldn’t be eating that much anyway.” I offer him half the donut, but he holds up his hand.

Aw. He’s missing out.

“I got you a substitute, though.” He takes a small black box out of his pocket.

This time, I can’t help my reflexes. The donut and the bag of candy hit the dirt.

“It’s. Ah.” I blink, taking the little velvet box. Slowly, with shaking hands, I open it. That is a diamond right there, yes it is. The ring flashes in the deep afternoon light. It seems that the birds quit singing, and the squirrels quit chittering. Everyone in the forest is now watching my reaction. It’s like a Disney film, only with way more pre-marital sex.

“Chelle Richardson.” Will gets to one knee, and for an insane minute I think he wore his non-work clothes so he wouldn’t get them dirty on the ground. But that’s not it. Work Will has been balancing out better with Play Will, and Play Will is my favorite. That’s the Will who plays games with Amelia and me on Saturday nights, who takes me to my favorite spot on the beach at Point Dume. That’s the Will he’s wanted to be for a long time. That’s the Will I want to marry.

If this is a marriage proposal. For an insane minute, I think he’s asking me something else. Because my brain is like that. Fortunately, that idea doesn’t stick around.

“Will you marry me?” Will asks.

I could come up with a clever way to answer, or I could just kiss the hell out of this man. I choose the latter. Never let it be said I don’t make good decisions. He stands, and I’m in his arms in a second. Nearly climbing him, also. His hands roam my body as we kiss, the ring box still clutched tight in my grasp. No one takes this ring away. Sméagol forbids it. The ring is my precious.

It will tell you a lot about me that Andy Serkis is whispering in my ear while I make out with the man I love.

“I take it that’s a yes?” Will laughs when we finally pull apart, after a full minute.

“Yes. I’ll keep saying it. Yes.” Trembling, I’m back on the ground and trying like hell to get the ring on my finger. Will helps with that, sliding the band onto my left hand. He pulls me against him again and I let myself go. I feel free, and safe, and wild, and happy. And hungry.

But the food’s on the ground. Oh, bother.

“I have an idea for before the kids arrive.” I kiss him, bite down gently on his lower lip. Growling with pleasure, his hands cup my ass.

“What’s that?”

“There’s a box of donuts in the auditorium.”

Will throws his head back and laughs, the surprised laughter that never fails to delight me.

“I thought you’d never ask.” He hooks an arm around my waist, and together we walk back down the path.

Donuts, a marriage proposal, school plays, and it’s only a Tuesday.

I can’t wait to see what happens next.

* * *