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“You were right that I was keeping you from my family,” Harlan says, “because I was afraid of the truth about Darla coming out. I was wrong to ever ask you to lie for me.”

“Blackmail,” Jameson coughs.

“I was wrong to blackmail you,” Harlan amends, casting Jameson a dark look. “As you may have gleaned from my brother’s rude interruption, I told my siblings the truth about Darla. And the truth about you. But I didn’t tell them everything.”

I swallow nervously, my heart thrumming a mile a minute.

“The whole truth, Quinn Monroe,” he says devoutly, “is that I love you.”

I sniffle, starting to cry.

“I love the way you pour your heart into every single cake you make. You care so much about making your clients happy, and about your friends, and your mom. I love that you and Lorraine have so much love in your home, and you’ve welcomed me there. I love how determined you are to raise this baby well, and take care of everyone around you. And I love the way you leave your little messes around my house, and you forget where you put things, and you sneak food to my cat, and you make the whole place feel like a home. It’s not home anymore when you’re not there, Quinn.”

“I know,” I say shakily. “My home doesn’t feel that way anymore, either, because you’re not there.”

“So, I want to build a life with you, and our baby, and Lorraine. I want to start every morning with you, watching you grump around and then perk up over your morning coffee.”

I laugh, and he wipes the single tear from my cheek as he talks.

“And I want to come home to each other every night,” he says. “I want to watch you build your dream, and support you every way I can. I want us to raise our daughter together, and I want to pick her up after school every day, even if it means Graysen has to get used to me working from home.”

I glance at Graysen, who kind of rolls his eyes.

“And I want to have more kids with you, Quinn,” Harlan vows, “in a home that smells like your baking. I want you to be my wife. And I promise you that I’ll work every day to make sure you feel loved and cared for. Because you have the biggest heart of anyone I know. You make people feel loved. Even me. And you deserve to feel that kind of love back, tenfold.”

He gets down on one knee in front of me, and I tremble with emotion.

“Please, will you marry me? I promise to be a wonderful father to our little girl.” Now he’s crying, and it totally does me in.

“Yes. I’ll marry you. Please don’t cry.”

He swipes the tears from his eyes as Jameson leans sideways to try to see his face—and Harlan’s tears, which maybe he’s never seen.

Then Harlan pulls out a ring box.

“I forgot to present you with the ring.” He laughs nervously. I’ve never seen him this way, such a mix of naked emotions. His fingers even shake opening the box.

Then he slides the ring onto my finger.

“Oh my god,” I gasp when I get a look at it.

Harlan looks up into my eyes again. “Do you like it? Lorraine thought you would.”

“Of course! I love it.” He gets to his feet and pulls me to him. Our kiss is wet with salty tears. “I’m a disaster right now,” I breathe when we pull apart. “You talked to my mom about this?”

“Of course,” he says.

“Can I hug my new sister?” Savannah asks. “I’m trying to be patient over here.”

Harlan steps back so Savannah can hug me, and Harlan’s brothers congratulate him. “It’s my mom’s ring,” I tell her, showing her the modest diamond ring. “The one my dad gave her when he proposed. I know it’s simple, but Harlan couldn’t have picked a more perfect ring for me.”

“He pays attention,” she says softly. “That’s how he shows you he cares. That focus of his.”

“Yeah.” I wipe the tears from my cheeks. “He does.”

I get a round of hugs from Harlan’s brothers. Then Graysen says, “Well, what a great way to start the holiday season. Can we take you both for a drink, to celebrate?”

Harlan looks to me before answering. “Quinn?”