Page 135 of Chasing the Sun

She let out a tiny sob and immediately covered her mouth again.

“You’re the first thing I’ve ever wanted that didn’t come with a blueprint. You didn’t just walk into my life like a storm, you rewrote every line I thought I’d already figured out. And thank god you did, because the life I was building before you? It didn’t hold a candle to this. If you’ll let me, I want to spend the rest of my life building something that doesn’t need plans or fences or backup options.”

I pulled the ring from my pocket and opened the velvet box.

It wasn’t flashy. A thin, antique gold band, a marquise-cut sapphire hugged by tiny diamonds on either side. Simple. Vintage. Unmistakably her.

“It may seem quick, but I’m done waiting for my life to start. I want to chase the sun with you,” I said, voice cracking. “Every damn day.”

For a long second, she didn’t move.

Then she dropped to her knees and threw her arms around my neck, tears warm against my skin.

“You jerk,” she whispered, laughing and crying at the same time. “You actual, unfair, impossibly good man.”

I held my breath and waited.

“Yes,” she whispered into my collarbone. “Yes. Of course, yes.”

I held her there, buried in the scent of orchard wind and of the woman who cracked me open and made me whole.

Later, when the stars came out and the fire burned low, she stood next to me with my flannel draped around her shoulders, ring sparkling like starlight as she waved to the last stragglers headed to their cars.

I pressed a kiss to her temple, heart full to bursting.

Some people waited their whole lives for a love that felt like safety.

My safety was wildfire and wonder and warmth.

Elodie was the reason I tore down every fence I’d ever built.

She was the sun.

And loving her?

That was the only thing worth chasing.