Cooper

Things were going exactly as planned.

I smiled out the window as we drove up Madison during rush hour, anxious to be home, eager to have Maggie in my arms, and ready for the weekend.

For years, I’d been planning, waiting patiently for the right time. After everything that had happened to her with her ex, I didn’t want to rush, didn’t want to push her into something she wasn’t ready for. I’d promised her, one day, I’d ask her the question with the ring, and now it was time to make good on my word.

The custom Harry Winston had been sitting in my safe for months, long enough for me to plan this weekend, to find the time off work, to wait for the summer when it would be warm. I’d scanned the coast and chosen the cove I’d take her to tomorrow night where we’d anchor and eat dinner on the deck as the sun set.

That was the moment I’d ask her to marry me.

Forever.

It didn’t seem like long enough. I’d woken every morning next to her for years and never ceased to be amazed by the depth of her eyes or the curve at the very corners of her lips, as if she were always smiling, even in sleep. I’d memorized the smattering of freckles across the bridge of her nose like a captain knew the stars. No matter how hard my day was, no matter how stressful things were at work, when I walked through the door, it was with a sigh of relief.

When she was in my arms, everything outside our walls faded away, ceased to exist.

Nerves twisted around my guts, sharp with anticipation. I’d done everything I could to orchestrate the perfect time, the perfect moment. The perfect ring for the perfect girl. I only hoped I could pull it off. And I hoped she was ready. I’d been ready for years. Since the very beginning.

My driver dropped me at the entrance of the building, and I hurried inside with my smile still in place. Within minutes, I was unlocking the door, my eyes scanning for her the second I crossed the threshold.

She stood in the kitchen, wearing one of my favorite sundresses, and when she looked over her shoulder and saw me, her face lit like a sunrise.

I didn’t speak. In three steps, she was in my arms.

Our lips were a seam, transmitting all the things we hadn’t said. I missed you. I love you, the way you feel against me, the way you smell, the way you make me feel. The way I want you and the way I need you. I love you, I love you, I love you.

For a long moment, we breathed each other in like we’d been underwater since we parted that morning.

She broke the kiss and leaned back, her eyes hooded and smiling lips swollen. “Well, hello to you, too.”

A laugh rumbled low in my throat. I kissed her nose.

“How was your day?”

“Fine,” she said in a way that made me certain it wasn’t fine at all.

I jerked my chin toward the living room. “Doing a little cleaning?” I’d noted on scanning for her that she’d rearranged the shelves and moved everything around in the living room.

She flushed. “What do you mean?”

I gave her a look. “My chessboard is on top of the bookshelf.”

“Well, it’s a choking hazard! The baby could choke,” she said with defensiveness I’d been unprepared for. Guilt sparked behind her eyes.

“What baby?” I asked, my brows drawing together.

“Lily’s. Lily’s baby.”

I chuckled. “Hazel can’t see six inches in front of her, and if you set her down, she’ll stay exactly where you put her. How’s she going to choke on my rook?”

“Well, I don’t want to find out. Do you?” She turned to the cutting board and picked up the knife she’d been chopping chives with. “I went by there today to see the baby.”

I stiffened. West knew about my big plans for the weekend—he’d even facilitated the conversation I’d had with her father when I garnered his blessing. The problem was, West couldn’t keep a secret to save his life.

“How’s the baby?” I asked, hoping I could hedge anything he’d said. God knew he’d said something, the blabbermouth.

The color rose in her cheeks, her smile sweet and dreamy. “Oh, she’s just so sweet, Coop. She never cries, just sleeps and coos and yawns. She’s such a tiny little thing. She almost fits in the palm of West’s hand.”

The wonder in her voice warmed me up from the middle out, and I felt us both imagining a baby of our own. I imagined her holding a tiny little thing with her big blue eyes and golden hair. Would it be a boy or a girl? Didn’t matter any to me, so long as it was just like her.

I stepped behind her and wrapped my arms around her waist. My chin rested on her crown, my hands on the flat of her stomach. But I didn’t mention my hopes for the future.

First things first.

“You ready for this weekend?”

“Mmhmm,” she hummed, leaning back against me. She didn’t say anything more.

I couldn’t help but frown at her lack of enthusiasm. “Weather’s supposed to be great. I thought we could stop and anchor before we get to the Hamptons.”

“Sounds good.” The knife clicked on the worn wood.

My frown deepened. “Everything okay?”

A sigh, a deep sound, heavy with something she wasn’t telling me. “Everything’s fine.” Her voice was happy but tight around the edges.

“That was convincing.”

She set down her knife and turned around in my arms. “Everything’s fine, I promise. I’m just tired.”

“Want me to cook dinner?” I asked.

Maggie smiled. Her arms wound around my neck as best they could, given her height. “If you want. I’m not really hungry.”

I hummed, leaning down for an easy kiss. “Well, I don’t want you to cook just for me.”

I bent down a little more and swept her up in my arms. She chirped in surprise, her arms squeezing my neck to hang on. She didn’t need to. I had her, and I wasn’t likely to let her go.

“My girl is tired and not hungry,” I said, moving toward our bedroom. “Sounds like we should spend the rest of the night in bed.”

She laughed. “What about you? Aren’t you hungry?”

I smirked. “Oh, I am. But not for anything in the kitchen.”

She would have laughed if I hadn’t kissed her first.

I laid her down in bed and climbed in after her, keeping my lips on hers where they wanted to be. I stretched out next to her with her small body tucked against mine, kissing her without demand, just absolute contentment in the feeling of her small face in my palm, the tip of her nose brushing against the side of mine, her soft, humid breath against my cheek. I could have kissed her like that forever. If tomorrow went well, I would.

She broke away, settling back into the bed. I propped my head on one hand, tracing the curve of her cheeks and the shape of her chin with the other. Our legs tangled together.

“You didn’t tell me how your day was,” she said.

“Tragically boring. The best part of my day was coming home to you. Always is.”

Her cheeks flushed prettily. I thumbed the heat of her freckled skin.

“I’ve been looking forward to this weekend forever,” I said softly, knowing she wouldn’t know what I really meant. I wished I could say more. I wished I could ask her the question right then, like I almost had a thousand times.

The perfect moment awaits. You’ve held off this long. Be patient for twenty-four more hours.

“It’ll be fun,” she said, this time meaning it. “It’s been too long since we’ve gone sailing. I hate being busy.”

“Me too.”

She reached for my tie, busying her hands and eyes. “Tell me the story again.”

“Which one?” I asked.

The whisper of silk filled the silence. “About our future.”

One side of my lips rose. My hand found her hip. “Well, one day, I’ll whisk you away to a beautiful place, the perfect place, and I’m going to get down on one knee and ask you to love me forever.”

“I’ll already love you forever,” she said, as she always did.

My smile widened. “Well, I’ll make you promise.” I said, as I always did.

She chuckled.

“And you’ll say yes—I hope, at least—with your face shining and surprise in your eyes even though I’ve told you this story a hundred times.”

“Two hundred at least.”

“And then you’ll kiss me, and I’ll put the ring on your finger where it’ll stay forever.” Forever. I went on, “We’ll get married wherever you want—New York, Jackson, Fiji. I don’t care where, so long as you’re there in a white dress with the words I do on your lips.”

That earned me a smile. Her eyes met mine like the brush of a feather before shifting back to her hands. Her fingers worked the top buttons of my shirt.

“Then, we’ll travel every chance we get. I want to see you in every hidden corner of the world. I figure, between your job and mine, it’ll take three or four years to hit all the places left on our list. And when we’re ready, we’ll settle down and start a family.”

Something passed across her face, gone before I could place it. “Why haven’t you asked me yet, Coop?” The question was gentle, quiet, without accusation.

I swallowed to force my tight throat open and said slowly, gently, “Because I’ve been waiting for the perfect moment.”

“But what if there is no perfect moment? What if there’s no right time or being ready?”

Something in her voice struck me. I reached for her face and tipped it so she’d meet my eyes. “What’s the matter, Mags?”

Her eyes shone with tears, and she shook her head. “I just love you.”

“I love you, too,” I said, the words drawn from deep in my chest. “Maggie, I—”

“Kiss me,” she said.

And I obliged. Soon, she wouldn’t have a single question, a single doubt in her mind. Tomorrow, she’d know.