"I do."

The officiant barely got out the words, "I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride," before Tate scooped Emily into his arms, bent her back, and laid a kiss on her mouth that was borderline inappropriate for a wedding.

I don't think Emily minded.

I hadn't been to many weddings, and this one was so small it was more like a family get-together than a formal event, but I knew I wouldn't attend many that were sweeter or more perfect for the bride and groom.

Despite the short timeframe between proposal and wedding, Emily had found a dress that suited her perfectly, sleek, modern, and stylish, just like Emily herself. The dress modestly draped her curves while still being sexy as hell, and she glowed in the white satin, her dark hair pinned into an elaborate coronet of braids and twists, her gray eyes luminous.

Tate wore the standard tux in a deep charcoal gray, his blue eyes bright with happiness and his dark hair a little too long. When he'd said he'd get it cut for the wedding, Emily had demanded he leave it.

Only Holden and Jo stood up with them. As Tate knew she would, Emily had wanted a small, private ceremony. Aside from me, another friend we'd gone to school with, and Sophie, their aunt Amelia's nurse, the wedding guests were all Winters. That said, they were a big family, and we easily filled the formal dining room.

It was a lovely evening and a perfect way to celebrate New Year's day, watching two people I adored pledge their hearts to one another surrounded by friends. The fantastic food and decadent surroundings didn't hurt.

Still, I missed Noah. I hadn't seen him since the beginning of December when I'd taken a week off and flown out to California. He'd been working for some of that time, but he’d taken off as much as he could, and we'd spent a blissful week together.

I liked California. I liked where he lived, right down to the neighborhood. I'd told him I'd love him if he had nothing, and I meant it. If Noah came to me naked and penniless, he would still be my dream man. After seeing his house, though, I was hoping he pulled off his gamble and was able to keep it because it was spectacular.

I hadn't been sure how he expected a mortgage on a house to keep his company going since I'd been under the impression he needed a lot of cash. I’d forgotten that real estate in Northern California isn't cheap, and his modern, custom-built home in the woods with its soaring ceilings, plate glass windows, and the best of everything, designed by a renowned architect, was worth a fortune. Let's just say the equity he pulled out of the house set him up for a while.

If he had to sell it, he'd walk away with nothing, and we’d deal. But if he could keep it, I'd be more than happy living there.

So far, he was optimistic. Their software was almost ready for the market. Actually, a lot of companies would have released it already, bugs and all. The pressure to ship software was so intense that most companies released well before they’d worked out all the issues. With the stigma of Philip Martin's accusations hanging over Endicott Technologies, Noah didn't want to risk shipping a product that wasn't perfect, or as close as they could reasonably get it.

Philip was out of the picture. He'd continued to make trouble for a few weeks after Noah had returned to California. The planned protest had gone off, complete with picketers outside Endicott Tech's corporate offices. When a popular tech blog exposed those picketers as actors, Philip went from righteous vigilante to laughingstock.

The last we'd heard, shortly before Christmas, he'd lost his job. We were prepared for him to come at Noah again, but his reputation had been damaged so much, his threats would carry far less weight.

It wasn't until after Thanksgiving that I found out what had happened between Vance and Noah. Noah had refused to say a word, only telling me that Vance had conditions he wasn't willing to satisfy.

When I'd asked for the week off to visit Noah, Vance had said, "I didn't expect him to take the deal, you know. I hoped he wouldn't, but I had to offer."

"What deal?" I'd asked, confused.

One of Vance's blonde eyebrows shot up. "He didn't tell you?"

"All he said was that he didn’t like your conditions and he was going to do it on his own. He mortgaged as much of his house as the bank would let him and sold as many things that he thought he could without drawing attention."

"Interesting. I wonder if he’s still open to an investment. Without the conditions."

Suspicious, I asked, “What were the conditions?"

Vance refused to tell me. So did Noah.

Noah said it was between him and Vance, and everything had turned out for the best. Maggie stepped in and tried to salvage the deal, but Noah had politely turned her down. He'd made her a counter-offer—once he had a guarantee of a viable product and a solid timeline, they'd need cash for production and expansion.

Endicott Technologies wasn't going to license or sell the software they’d developed. They wanted to produce and distribute it in-house, including the hardware to run it. That was going to take money Noah couldn't raise through mortgages and selling cars. Especially since he'd already mortgaged his house and sold his cars.

Maggie and Vance had been satisfied by his counter-offer of future business, but I'd heard her giving Vance a hard time over the way he'd interfered between Noah and me. After that, I was determined to find out what had really happened.

Maggie was good at keeping secrets, but she had a low tolerance to alcohol. I dragged it out of her one night after she’d had one too many glasses of wine. When I learned the truth, I'd started to cry.

I knew Noah loved me.

I did.

Learning that he'd risked his company, that he’d chosen me over Endicott Technologies and then hadn't used it as leverage to win me back . . .

Understanding what he’d put on the line for me made me dizzy with love. I never told him I knew.

"Another glass of wine?" A waiter in a white dinner jacket asked, offering a bottle of red.

"No, thank you," I said.

From beside me, Jo said, “You can stay here tonight, you know."

"I know, and I appreciate it, but I think I'm all partied out."

Jo gave me a knowing look and shared a glance with Holden. They both knew that as much as I'd loved the wedding, I was a little down. Noah was supposed to be in Atlanta for New Year's Eve, the night before, but there was a massive weather system in the Midwest dumping snow and ice everywhere, and almost every flight in the country had been delayed or rerouted. Nothing was running on time.

Instead of flying straight from Northern California to Atlanta, Noah had been hopscotching the country trying to get here. The last I heard, he was in Houston, grounded due to ice. He was doing everything he could to get here, and I knew I'd see him soon, but being at the wedding without him was a disappointment.

Not just for me. I hated thinking about him spending the New Year's holiday alone in a strange airport.

"He'll get here," she reassured me, giving my hand a squeeze. I couldn't help but notice the ring on her finger, the exact one she’d seen that day with Emily and me, the same ring I'd pointed out to Holden. Once he’d bought it and Tate had safely whisked Emily out of town for a romantic weekend and surprise proposal, Holden had wasted no time in sliding it onto Josephine's finger. It looked perfect there.

I'd caught Jo staring at it with a happy smile more than a few times since Holden had asked her to be his wife. Unlike Emily, Jo wanted a traditional wedding. Nothing huge like the wedding Holden's older brother, Jacob, was planning, but bigger than both of the weddings the Winters family had thrown in the last two weeks.

According to Jo and Em, Winters House had been a whirlwind between Charlotte Winters’s wedding to Lucas Jackson on Christmas Eve and then Em and Tate’s much smaller ceremony today.

Raised voices at the other end of the table had me sitting up straighter. Both Holden and Jo leaned forward, trying to see what was going on. A low voice swore loudly, followed by the crash of silverware.

“Oh, shit,” Holden said, glancing my way. “I apologize in advance for my family.”

“What’s going on?” I asked.

Jo shook her head as Holden said, “Aiden and Gage have some shit to work out.” Craning his neck to see past his cousin Vance, he said, “Here it comes.”

A second later, the meaty thud of a fist hitting flesh sounded, followed by a roar of rage. I smacked my hand over my mouth, watching in awe as Holden’s refined, austere older brother, Aiden, launched himself at his cousin Gage, taking the former special forces soldier to the carpet in a whirlwind of writhing limbs and swinging fists.

“Oh, my God!” Jo whispered to me. “I would have bet my engagement ring Aiden wouldn’t be the one to start a brawl in his own dining room.”

“Technically, Gage started it,” Holden said, taking a sip of wine and watching the fight. He made no effort to hide his amusement. None of them did. Tate was outright grinning.

“Aren’t any of you going to stop it?” I asked. As if she’d heard me, Aunt Amelia’s nurse, Sophie, jumped to her feet. She stormed over to the men and stared down at them with her hands on her hips. Just when I thought she was going to do something to stop the fight, she turned on her heel and left the room, muttering under her breath something about men and idiots.

Answering my question, Holden said, “Nope. I’m not getting in the middle of those two. A guy could get hurt that way.”

“Holden—” Jo protested.

“They’ll be done soon,” he assured us. “This has been brewing for years. They’ll both feel better after they pound on each other for a while.”

The fight showed no signs of stopping. Both men were on the ground, and they looked so much alike it was hard to see who was winning. Holden and the other Winters boys might be fine with watching their two oldest battle it out in the formal dining room, but I was feeling distinctly out of place.

Carrie, our friend from school, was sitting to my left. She leaned in and said quietly, “Are they usually like this?”

“No idea,” I whispered back.

“I’m kind of feeling like it’s time to head out,” she said.

I had to agree. The fight showed no signs of slowing down. If they didn’t stop soon, someone was going to get hurt. From across the table, I heard a female voice say, “If he bleeds on the carpet, Mrs. W is going to be pissed.”

If someone was bleeding, it was definitely time to go. Sending a wave across the table to the bride and groom, I leaned over to hug Jo and said, “Carrie and I are out of here. Call you later.”

Fortunately, the brawl was far enough from the door that we could slip out mostly unnoticed. The Winters family didn’t do anything low-profile. Even a small family wedding had turned into a circus. I loved them all to pieces, but I preferred my simple life to their drama and scandal-filled existence.

All I needed was Noah and school.

I couldn’t help checking my phone before starting the car. It remained stubbornly dark and silent. No word from Noah. The weather was easing in the Northeast and upper Midwest, but ice storms were scattered across the South and Southwest, exactly where Noah was the last time he'd texted.

I wanted him at my side, but more, I wanted him safe. I tried to banish the image of him sitting on the floor in an airport terminal, propping his head on his briefcase while he tried to catch a nap. Ever since I'd seen news coverage of the flight delays, seen hundreds of people in that exact position over the holiday, the idea of Noah alone and far from me had been driving me nuts.

The weather wasn't great in Atlanta, but the streets were mostly clear of ice and the night had remained blessedly dry. I drove Carrie home cautiously, waiting outside her apartment building until she was safe in the lobby. I don't know what I expected as I drove back to the loft. Noah's car parked out front? Noah waiting on my doorstep? Either way, I was disappointed.

I was still living in the loft, though Noah’s tuition payment had included money for room and board. Vance, overprotective and suspicious, had insisted that I continue living in the loft just in case. I'd tried to argue, but Maggie shook her head and advised me to just give in, saying that unless I had a compelling reason to live in student housing, the loft was far more comfortable and it would get Vance off my back.

Vance and Maggie hadn't wanted to let me go when I started school, and I hadn’t wanted to quit. For the first semester, most of my obligations were later in the afternoon, so we'd agreed that I'd continue helping them out in the mornings as well as the occasional evening and weekend, and we’d see how it went.

I loved working for Vance and Maggie and adored little Rosie, and I needed a way to earn money while I was in school. I wasn't taking living expenses from Noah. Not when things were stretched so tight for him. He'd already paid my tuition. That was more than enough.

I stripped off my cocktail dress, let down my hair, and crawled into bed, hoping I'd have news from Noah by morning.

An insistent buzzing woke me from a deep sleep. I rolled over and sat up, squinting into the darkness, trying to make sense of the obnoxious sound filling the loft.

The door!

I lurched out of bed in the dark, half-tripping over a pair of shoes I'd left on the floor, and raced for the video screen by the elevator. Clicking the button to bring it to life, my heart leaped in my chest.

Noah. He looked exhausted and wet, but it was Noah. I hit the button to unlock the door and jumped into the freight elevator. When the doors opened on the first level, he was there.

I threw myself into his arms, planting kisses everywhere I could reach—his forehead, his cheeks, his neck, his collarbone, his lips. My mouth moved over his skin as I murmured his name, Noah, Noah, Noah.

Finally, I pulled back to ask, “How did you get here?"

His arms closed around me, holding me tightly as he dropped his head and took a deep breath. Exhaling, he stepped back and looked down at me.

"You don't want to know. Let's just say I had to promise our firstborn to get a rental car and the roads are a fucking mess."

Belatedly, I realized not only was he wet, but he was freezing cold. More icy rain. Reaching up to brush his damp hair off his face, I said, “Were you out there driving in this? Noah! What if you'd been in an accident?"

"I wasn't. And I'm here. It took me three days, but I'm here." Backing me into the elevator, he pressed the button to take us to the second floor and eyed me from head to toe, taking in my flushed cheeks, my tangled hair, and my nightgown, a barely-there navy blue silk slip. "You normally answer the door dressed like that?" he asked.

"Only when it's you."

I twined my fingers with his, alarmed at how cold they were. "You drove here? Didn't your car have heat?"

He shrugged. "It was supposed to.”

I dragged him into the bedroom, darted into the bathroom to start a hot shower, and returned to find him standing there, his bag on the floor beside him as he tried to toe off his shoes. Watching him fumble, I realized how exhausted he must be. I needed to get him warmed up and in bed. By the time I’d peeled off his wet clothes, steam billowed from the shower.

For a second, I thought about letting him go in by himself, but when his fingers closed over my wrist, and he gave a tug, I happily followed. My silk slip only got a little wet before I stripped it over my head and tossed it to the bathroom floor. Noah stood under the hot water, letting it beat down on him, gradually relaxing under the warming spray. I poured body wash into my hands and smoothed it over his skin, taking my time as I explored every inch of the body I knew so well and had missed so much.

I knew Noah was feeling better when he filled his own hands with soap and went to work on me. He took his time, exploring every inch of my body, and when he was done, I was a quivering, aroused mess, desperate for more.

So was Noah. I'd been on the pill since the middle of November, so we didn't have to worry about condoms anymore. Thank God. I didn't want anything between us when he lifted me, pinning my back to the tile wall of the shower and thrusting inside.

A month without Noah felt like a lifetime. We were doing well with the distance thing, learning patience and understanding, but nothing felt as good as being right here.

Noah surrounding me.

Noah filling me.

Noah everywhere.

Dropping his head until his lips grazed my ear, he said in a ragged voice, "Ella, Ella, I can't wait, baby. It's been so long."

I was right there with him, already on the edge of orgasm. I could barely get my head together enough to talk, but I whispered, “Don't wait, don't wait, Noah. I want to feel you come."

Turning my head, I kissed the side of his jaw and nipped his full lower lip. Against his mouth, I said, “Fuck me hard and come inside me, Noah."

He did exactly that, his deep, hard thrusts grinding the base of his cock into my clit and driving me over the edge. My body clamped down on his as I cried out his name.

It was a minute or two before we got our breath back and he set me on my feet. My knees wobbled, and I fell into his chest, knowing his arms would come around me, holding me up.

"Welcome home," I said.

Noah’s thorough kiss was answer enough. We let the water rinse us clean, then Noah shut it off and dried me, squeezing the moisture out of my hair and stroking the towel over my skin. He dried himself with brusque strokes, watching with heavily lidded eyes as I braided my damp hair so I wouldn't wake up with a tangled bird’s nest on my head.

"Are you hungry?" I asked.

"I can wait till morning. I got drive-through after I hit the road. I just want to go to bed with you."

That, I could do. Taking his hand, I led him to the bed. Before he joined me, he unzipped his bag and pulled something out, hiding it behind his back.

When we were securely tucked beneath the covers, on our sides and facing one another, Noah said, "I've got something for you."

He handed me a black velvet box. I looked from the box to him, confused. Was it a Christmas present? Knowing we'd be together over New Year's, we hadn't exchanged gifts yet. It looked like jewelry, but I didn't want to read anything into it.

Taking the box with fingers that suddenly felt stiff and unwieldy, I pried open the lid. And stared.

It wasn't just jewelry—it was a ring. And not just any ring. It was a perfect diamond solitaire in a classic six-prong platinum setting.

It was an engagement ring.

But Noah hadn't proposed.

Unless this was his idea of a proposal. Uncertain, I pried my eyes from the ring and met Noah’s bittersweet chocolate gaze. There was a line between his eyebrows when he said, "I know it's too soon. You don't have to see it as an engagement ring if it's too much. It can just be a promise. A promise that when you're finished with school and we can be together every day, there's going to be an engagement, and we’re going to get married."

"So this isn't an engagement ring?"

"Do you want it to be? I tried to talk myself into waiting until you're done with school, or we've had more time. But I know what I want, Ella. I know who I want. There's never been another woman I've imagined as my wife. There's never been anyone I dreamed of spending my life with except you. I've loved you since the first day you sat beside me in class and asked to borrow my pen. If you’re not ready to be engaged, I’ll wait, but I want you to keep the ring. And when we're apart for too long, and life is crazy, I want you to look at that ring and know that you carry my love with you all the time, not just in your heart but on your hand."

A tear trickled from the corner of my eye. Maybe it was too soon. We'd barely been back together for two months. But I knew what I wanted, too.

Noah.

Always Noah.

I pulled that gorgeous, perfect ring from the box and handed it to Noah. "Put it on my finger," I said. "It's not a promise ring. It’s an engagement ring."

Noah slid the ring on my finger, then he pulled my hand to his lips and kissed it.

"I want to wait until I finish school for the wedding,” I said. “I don't want to be your wife until we’re done with living apart.”

"Agreed."

Noah grinned at me, his dark eyes shining. "I love you, Els. The second you finish school, we’re getting married. I don't care if it's a big wedding or a small one. I don't care where it is as long as when it's done, I get to go home with you."

That was the kind of deal I could live with. Noah tossed the velvet box over the side of the bed and pulled me into his arms, arranging me so my head was pillowed on his shoulder, my left hand on his chest, his fingers twined with mine, the ring sparkling in the dim light of the bedroom.

I knew exactly what Noah meant when he said it was a promise ring. We were engaged to be married, but that ring was a promise that neither of us would ever forget what we’d learned.

Nothing is more important than love. Nothing. Though I didn’t need the ring to remind me. Not as long as I had Noah.