Page 10

Gabe, Three months later

“Are you sure your mom will be okay with Kenzie?” Cassie asks, nervously chewing on her bottom lip as we drive from our house. That’s right, our house. I made it clear after Cass blew into the locker room and told me she loved me that we were together, and it was no longer my house. We’re a family.

“You do realize my mom has raised kids before,” I comment, a teasing smile on my face. I love how Cassie genuinely slid into being Kenzie’s mom. She’s so proactive about researching things and even argued with our pediatrician over something she felt was incorrect. But the kicker? The kicker was when she said, “I’ll always fight for my daughter.”

Her daughter. Not mine. She didn’t even use the term step-daughter. Cassie views Mackenzie as hers, and I’m incredibly proud of this breathtaking woman, and how she has become an integral part of our lives in less than a year.

“I know she’s raised kids,” Cassie says exasperatedly, slapping my bicep with mock anger while rolling her eyes. “But she hasn’t been around our kid for that long. I’m worried Mackenzie won’t settle down for her. Or that your mom won’t remember the list of songs I hum at bedtime, or the order of the songs.”

“I can’t even remember the list of songs, Firecracker. But Kenz settles for me just fine.”

“You’re her dad, Gabe. Of course, she’s going to settle down for you.”

“And my mom is her grandma. Kenz will learn. And I fucking love that you say it like that, by the way.”

“What?” Cassie asks, a confused look on her gorgeous face. I love that she’s not wearing any makeup, and I can see the freckles dotting across her nose and cheekbones. Her hair is swept up in a messy bun, and she’s wearing a tank top and cutoff jean shorts. I told her not to dress up because I wanted tonight to be relaxed. When she realizes what I have planned, she’s probably going to be pissed.

“You called her ours, baby. Not mine. Ours.” Grabbing her hand, I intertwine our fingers and bring the back of her hand to my mouth, kissing it. “Do you realize you’re saying it like that? You’ve been doing it for a few weeks. I love it, Cass. I love that you consider Mackenzie to be yours, too.”

Cassie is silent for a few moments before responding. “I hate that her mom had to die without ever getting to experience her, Gabe. I wish Nicole had lived so that Mackenzie could have another woman in her life to love on her. But I won’t feel guilty over the fact that I do get to watch her grow up. And I won’t feel bad for falling for you. You two are a package deal, and I think I’m the luckiest woman in the world for being blessed with you.”

“Damn, Firecracker. Way to make me all emotional,” I joke, pantomiming wiping a tear from my eye, but it’s not that far off from the truth. Over the past few months, Cassie has become introspective about life, relationships, and parenthood. She almost always nails my feelings without me saying a word. Her ability to recognize my thoughts and know what I need … it’s mind-boggling. I used to think finding a perfect match meant both people had to be perfect, but that’s not the case. Perfection is bullshit. But finding the ideal person for you is next-level. Cassie was made for me.

And frankly, I’m sick of her referring to me as her man. We talked at the start of the playoffs because she knew she’d be introduced to many new people, and she wasn’t sure what to call herself. I jokingly said I would call her my woman, and she sighed in relief. “I’m too old to call you my boyfriend. It makes me think we’re in high school or college.”

First of all, I’m not old.

My knees disagree, but I digress.

I don’t want her to call me her man anymore.

I want her to call me her fiancé.

“Did you bring me back to where we met?” Cassie screeches as I pull into the restaurant next to Cassie’s hotel. I haven’t been back here since we met. I think I knew I wanted to bring her here to recreate our first meeting and end it with a proposal. “Wait, do you want to role-play? Should we try to recreate everything exactly as it happened?”

As I park the car and remove my seatbelt, I reach over to cup her face. “I just wanted to come here for dinner, Cass. We don’t need to redo everything from that night. I want to celebrate where we are now, but also think back to one of the best nights of my life. The night I met you.”

Cassie sighs and subtly shifts her head so it’s heavy in my hands, then moves so her lips kiss my palm. “I can’t decide if my favorite moment of my life was the night I met you, or the night I walked into your house and met Mackenzie.”

Some might be upset with that statement. How could the love of my life not choose me? But I know exactly what she’s saying. A year ago, I felt like something was missing in my life. And when Mackenzie was born, that space filled up. But not all the way. Looking back, I can tell my heart pushed me toward Cassie, but I fought it. My focus had to be on my daughter. However, that night before my extended road trip, I knew Cassie was the missing piece. My heart was complete. I just had to wait for her to catch up.

“I think I knew the moment I held Mackenzie that she would be a significant part of my life. And then with you …” she trails off, letting out a long exhale before glancing at me shyly. “I knew you were trouble the moment I laid eyes on you.”

I throw back my head with a bark of laughter. “Did you now?”

Cassie nods. “Uh-huh. And for a brief second, when I saw you walking down the stairs holding Kenz, I was so excited. It was my chance at a do-over. I knew whatever had happened between us wasn’t normal. But that first morning, when I woke up and you weren’t there, I was so hurt. Seeing you walking down the stairs with a baby made me think you had left some woman to come to hook up with a stranger.”

“I’d never do that.”

“I know that now. But I second-guessed my own judgment when I thought you had snuck out.”

“Can we continue this conversation over dinner? I’m starving,” I confess as my stomach grumbles loudly. Cassie lets out a peal of laughter. She knows how hangry I get.

“Come on, grumpy. Let’s get you fed,” Cassie teases as she opens her door.

“Hey!” I shout, jumping out of the car and jogging over to her. “You’re supposed to let me open the door for you.”

“I know, but I’m hungry too,” she says, her eyes alight with love and mischief. When Cassie’s beautiful eyes sparkle, I’ll do just about anything to keep her that happy.

Walking into the restaurant, I steer her toward the bar.

“We can get a table,” she offers, pointing toward the quiet section in the back.

“So you can take advantage of me? I think not,” I joke. In reality, the bartender has been saving the two seats where we met so I could actually recreate a good chunk of the evening. As soon as we’re seated, drinks are placed in front of us. A beer for me and a margarita for Cassie. She looks at me, her brow furrowed in confusion, with one eyebrow cocked as she studies me. I bite my lip as I fight the smile that is aching to escape, and shrug in response.

I’m not surprised when Cassie orders her favorite meal. We don’t go out to dinner very often, choosing instead to cook at home, but whenever we do, Cassie orders chicken alfredo. Considering almost every restaurant in the country has some version of the dish, I know to expect that order. She doesn’t know that I always watch her take the first bite because she does a little happy dance every damn time. More times than not, the dance is accompanied by a high-pitched hum as she gleefully scoops up another bite. It’s my favorite thing to see whenever we have a meal together.

I remember every detail from the night we met. Everything, even down to the outfit she wore. If it wasn’t in the nineties today, I would have carefully laid out her clothes from that night to see if she took the bait. Instead, I discussed almost every topic we covered and asked her if anything was different. She agreed that Denver sports fans are rabid, and the weather changes every five seconds. She was still unprepared for how windy it gets here, but loves watching the sunset over the Rockies no matter the temperature.

As dinner draws to a close and we’re walking out of the restaurant, arms wrapped around each other, I lean down and whisper in her ear. “Care to have a little walk down memory lane?”

As I steer her toward the hotel, she giggles. “Gabe Dawson, are you asking me to make out in an elevator with you?”

“That, among other things,” I respond.

We swiftly walk past the reservations desk and grab the same elevator we used so many months ago. I, of course, take the opportunity to push her against the wall and kiss the hell out of her. I pick her up and throw her over my shoulder when we get to the floor.

“Gabe!” she squeals.

“That’s not what you’re supposed to say,” I respond, smacking her butt.

“Oh, we’re going for accuracy?” she teases.

“Of course, Firecracker. Chop-chop.”

“Good Lord,” she mutters. “Room nine-fourteen.”

I take off, running down the hallway, skidding to a stop in front of the room. Bending, I let Cassie slide down my body, then turn her so she’s facing the door. I begin kissing her neck as she shivers against me.

“Okay, we should probably stop. What if someone is in here?” she whispers.

“I’m pretty sure the room is empty.”

“How could you possibly know that?” she asks.

I pull the key out of my pocket and wave it in front of the reader. “Because it’s our room for the night.”

As I push the door open, I subtly move Cassie, so she’s further into the room. “What is flickering in here?”

“What? I can’t see anything,” I lie. It’s battery-operated tea light candles. Obviously, I can’t have real candles going when I didn’t know when we’d be here tonight. “Hey, can you reach the light switch? It’s right by you,” I tell her.

As soon as she turns on the light, Cassie gasps.

The room is covered in peonies. Cassie once told me she wasn’t the biggest fan of roses, although I have a couple dozen roses scattered on the floor. She likes how roses smell but hates how they almost always seem to die incredibly quickly. When I asked her what her favorite flower was, she got utterly glassy-eyed as she expressed her love for peonies.

So, I bought out the peony population of Denver. It took me visiting six different florists yesterday, and one online bulk order that arrived this morning at the hotel. I’ve got white, pink, coral, lavender, and peach-colored peonies. It’s a spectacular sight, but my gaze is glued to Cassie. When she turns to face me, tears in her eyes, I’m already down on one knee.

“Firecracker,” I begin, “I knew the moment I met you that I wouldn’t be the same man I was before you. Every day, you remind me of how much of a gift you are. I’m humbled to be yours, Cass. I watch you with Mackenzie, and I know there isn’t anyone else who could possibly be more perfect for us. You make me want to be a better man, and I hope you’ll want me to be an even better husband. I’d be honored if you’d be my wife.”

She laughs, a teary laugh that sings to my soul. “Are you asking me, or telling me?”

“Both.”

Cassie bends down to grab my face, giving me a quick kiss. “Of course you are. I answer yes to both.”

“Thank fuck,” I breathe, standing and picking her up to spin her around. Cassie squeals as she wraps her arms around my neck. “I love you, baby.”

“I love you too,” she murmurs into my neck.

“Do you want to see your ring?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“What?” I blurt out incredulously. It took me an entire month of searching every damn jewelry store in Denver before I found this sucker.

“I know you, Gabe. I know you probably picked a perfect ring for me, and I’ll wear it proudly. But right now, I just want to hold you,” she whispers.

This woman.

“Promise me you’ll put it on soon?” I ask.

“Okay, but why?”

“Because I really want to make love to my fiancée when she’s wearing only my ring.”

Cassie shudders in my arms. “Oh my.”

Oh my indeed.