“You are extremely careless,” I teased, knowing he was the exact opposite. The man had everything all planned out. Including this moment, it seemed, as he spoke again.
“Why don’t you reach under and check, just to be sure.”
I leaned down, pushed my hand under the cushion and found it. A small, black velvet jewelry case. My hand shook as I pulled it out.
“Will you, Caroline?” he asked in a whisper. “Will you marry me?”
“Yes, Colt.” I kissed him, not fighting back the tears that spilled onto our cheeks. “Yes!”
“Aren’t you going to open it?” he finally asked, after much more kissing and crying and repetitions of yes.
“I don’t need anything fancy, Colt.” I shook my head, wondering what he’d picked out. I knew he could buy me a diamond the size of a grapefruit.
“Trust me, baby.” I opened it and couldn’t believe how lovely it was, a sweet and simple round-cut diamond. “You know I’ll buy you anything you want. But I tried to choose a ring that you’d enjoy wearing every day, while you’re baking. I never want you to have to take it off.”
“Colt.” I threw my arms around his neck, fresh tears on my cheeks. “I never thought I could be so happy.”
“I know the feeling,” he agreed.
I sat back, looking up at his gorgeous face. He really did look like Superman with his dark hair and blue eyes, my own personal superhero. And what was that I saw at the corner of his eye?
“Is that a tear?” I asked reaching up my finger.
“It’s nothing, nothing.” He hastily denied, brushing it away with a guilty smile.
“From the alpha CEO? Unbelievable.”
“I have not ever, nor ever will acknowledge any purported involvement with any emotions heretofore referred to as crying.”
“Oh, Colt.” I feigned arousal at his terminology. “Talk legal to me.”
“Come here, you.” He wrapped an arm around me, took the ring out of the case and slipped it onto my finger. “Hard to improve on perfection.” He slid a hand down my side in admiration. “But that ring does look good on you.”
“I love it,” I answered simply. “And I love you.”
“I love you, too.” The sun dipped down below the buildings of Paris, the city’s daytime activity fading into nighttime amusements. The more things changed, the better they got. We sat together, agreeing to elope, and soon, right in Paris. Why wait when the future called out to meet us so bright?
EPILOGUE
Colt
The only person I worried about upsetting when Caroline and I chose to elope over the summer was my grandmother. Everyone else could take it or leave it. I didn’t give a fig. But Gram? I didn’t want to disappoint her by depriving her of a grand family event. Every year she hosted the renown Kavanaugh holiday party at the Waldorf Astoria in Manhattan. Nobody knew how to rock a red carpet in a ball gown like my Gram, the Dowager Baroness.
Happily, she praised our decision. “How sensible of you Colt,” she agreed. “I’ve been telling you for years. Why wait?”
“My feelings precisely,” I concurred. And so I wasted no more time before introducing the two of them, flying Caroline up to the UK to visit Gram at her estate in Yorkshire. After a leisurely stroll in the gardens, they both found a private moment to tell me how much they liked each other.
“She’s lovely,” Gram summed it up. “And she’s good for you, too.” I’d always felt that Gram saw through me, even as others kowtowed to my authority. She knew that sometimes I took the reins even when I didn’t know exactly where I was driving. But she also always let me know, in no uncertain terms, that she loved me in spite of, maybe even because of my flaws.
“I’m terribly pleased that you didn’t end up with one of those…what has Gigi called them?” As she tried to recall the word, I wondered if I was about to hear my grandmother swear for the first time in her long life. I knew my sweet, bubbly younger sister didn’t always like the types of women with whom I used to spend time. “Used to” being the operative phrase. “Ice queens,” Gram finally finished.
It did make me smile. I knew my grandmother as a loving, generous woman, but it was also true that she carried herself with an unquestionably regal bearing. She’d been compared to the Queen of England on more than one occasion. And the comparison wasn’t off-base. They were only four years apart in age and knew each other with some degree of familiarity, as could be expected of women in the same social circles with children of similar ages. PTA meetings and all that.
Two weeks before Christmas, Caroline and I flew to New York City for a few family events. There was the annual Kavanaugh holiday party, of course, and this year was no different. Except I’d have my wife with me. That was new, and I knew some in my circle would have a word or two to say about it behind closed doors. Me, the king of industry, shacked up with a little bakery owner no one had ever heard of from Southern Oregon! What they didn’t know was I was the lucky one. I felt grateful every day for the crazy circumstances that had brought us together.
I ushered Caroline into the gala, proud to have her by my side. She wore a deep green gown that made her eyes look like emeralds and showed off her curves in a way that made me definitely want to leave the party early. All those hills and valleys, I could never get enough of exploring her charms. But we had a large party to attend first, with boatfulls of caviar and glittering lights.
My tolerance for all that had dropped somewhat. It was probably Caroline’s influence, or maybe it was the lasting impact of our short time together on the island when all the bullshit had been stripped away. I didn’t mind showy, opulent displays, but I certainly didn’t need them to enjoy myself.
“This is gorgeous!” Caroline marveled at the ballroom with its lavish details and holiday decorations. Thank God she seemed to feel much more relaxed than her disastrous first visit to New York. To think she’d gotten the impression that I’d been trying to change her, mold her into something she’s not? Perish the thought.
“I think I see Kara,” I said as I led her through the crowd, using the good nine inches of height I had on her to help me navigate. She and Kara, my half-brother Declan’s wife, had really hit it off. They’d met a couple months ago at my younger brother Heath’s wedding. They’d discovered that they both shared a passion for baking. The rest, as they say, is history.
As the two of them connected like old friends, I chatted with Tim, my new COO. What a step up he was from Leonard with his dour outlook and constantly displeased and disapproving attitude. Tim and I were taking things in new directions, making fresh starts in all the right ways.
Speaking of, Dominic made a surprise appearance at the party. He’d technically been a member of the Kavanaugh family a few years back, during the brief time that his mother had married my father before his untimely passing. But Dom hadn’t exactly made it to too many of our family functions. Covered in tats and tough as they came, Dom wasn’t such a black tie guy. Which made it all the more surprising when he walked through the entryway.
“Dominic!” I strode over to give him a warm welcome. A few of my older relatives eyed him with suspicion. And they were right. He was a 6’3” tattooed, muscled, combat-trained badass. He looked exactly like the kind of guy you wouldn’t want to run into in a dark alley. Only I knew the side on which he fought. He might look like a bad guy, but he was definitely one of the good guys. And he’d been fighting officially as one of them for the past few years, as a covert operative in the Special Forces.
“I can’t believe you’re here!” I clapped him on the shoulder and shook his hand. I’d be grateful to him until the day I died that he’d been there years back to help me…well, not die.
“Heard you had a hell of a year,” Dominic responded, giving me a nod. I didn’t know which significant event he was referring to, the whole plane crash/marooned on a deserted island thing or my wedding. With Dom, I had a feeling it was the latter that would phase him.
“It’s been a big one,” I agreed. “I want to tell you more about it. And introduce you to my wife.”
I hadn’t expected I’d have the chance to introduce them. I invited Dom every year, but I hadn’t seen him in…come to think of it, a long time. Not since that summer out in the Hamptons. Four and a half years ago?
“How you been?” I asked. Dominic was a man of mystery, both out of temperament and necessity. You didn’t become a Green Beret specializing in unconventional warfare if you had a big mouth. I’d managed to get ahold of him a few times over the years for quick phone calls. You did that with people who’d saved your life. But he could never talk for long. One time I was pretty sure I’d heard gunfire in the background.
“I’m out,” he answered, brief and direct.
“Is that right?” I’d been looking around for Caroline, scanning the crowd, but I stopped to glance at him. I’d assumed he’d stay in the military for a while, make a career out of it. It seemed to suit him, and I was sure they’d recognized the find they had in Dominic. Especially since I’d had some well-placed contacts put in a few calls to highly-ranked officials. Dom was exactly the kind of person we needed defending and protecting.