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Chapter Forty-Four

Lux

“I think you have a paint drip,” Rafael teases, examining the section of wall I just finished painting.

“I think you have a screw loose,” I quip, pointing to the half-assembled crib in the corner.

“Hey! Double-entendre,” he grins. “Nice.”

I shrug with a smile and stretch my back, groaning in pain. As much as Rafael fought me on it, I wanted to be involved in getting Bean’s room together—even if that meant sacrificing my back.

“Are you finished with your aggressive mama bear nesting thing now?” he asks, wrapping his arms around me and rubbing my back. “Can I call in the professionals to finish painting the room?”

“No,” I pout.

Putting this room together for our baby is huge for me. I handpicked everything from the sunshine yellow wall color to the vintage-looking crib.

Ever since the mess with the Mancinis and Vince ended and Rafael went into semi-retirement, I have been over-the-moon happy.

But even I know the hard part is coming up fast. Late night feedings, never enough sleep, stinky diapers—I want to enjoy the calm before the storm as much as I can.

“Even if the professional happens to be Enzo?”

I scoff, untangling myself from his arms. “Enzo is a hardcore mafia dude. He wouldn’t drive out to the country to paint a baby’s room.”

“Enzo sits in his penthouse staring at computers and eating cold pizza all day,” I correct her. “He’s never shot a man, or even handled a weapon. And he actually painted houses to put himself through grad school, ipso facto…”

“Don’t you dare ipso facto me,” I warn, grabbing the roller again. “As much as I love Enzo, I want to do this myself.”

“Fine,” he finally relents. “But can we take a lunch break or are you planning on popping this kid out today?”

My stomach grumbles at the mention of food, so I happily drop my roller and skip into the kitchen. I marvel at my kitchen, forgetting my hunger, as soon as I enter it.

I’ve dreamed of this my entire life when I was living in shitty apartments with one-pot burners and janky microwaves.

I run my hand over the smooth wooden countertop, taking in the white-washed walls, colorful pastel cabinets, and honey-colored wood floors. It’s bright, cozy, and magical—everything I’ve ever hoped my dream home to be. I just never expected I’d find it.

“No kitchen today,” Rafael says, coming up behind me.

“But why? I love it,” I beg, lovingly patting my pastel blue Smeg cooktop.

“Because we’re going on a picnic today,” he grins, looking like the devil I know he is. He grabs my hand and drags me onto the back porch, where a picnic basket sits waiting for us.

“Okay, even better,” I agree, my heart soaring in my chest. Rafael quickly learned that surprises are my love language and I’m fully smitten. “In the yard?”

“No, we need to walk a little if you’re up for it,” he says. “Otherwise, we can take the car.”

“I’m not dead yet,” I announce with gusto. “Let the hike begin!”

We stroll hand-in-hand across the wide lawn behind our home. A dense tree line borders our land on the far edge and Rafael leads me to it.

I’ve never gone out this far and a jumble of nerves hits me. As a reformed city girl, I’m used to manicured parks and concrete. Forests kind of freak me out.

I lean into Rafael, feeling his warmth through his shirt. It calms me down enough to follow him into the dense stand of trees.

The grass from our backyard ends, and the ground transforms into a soft carpet of pine needles and dirt. The trees look like giants once I’m actually beneath them, and I gasp in wonder.

“Nice, isn’t it?”

“Amazing,” I breathe. “Are we having our picnic in here?”

“Not quite,” he laughs, kicking a pinecone out of the way. “There’s a major surprise on the other side of this.”

He pulls me forward, and we run through the trees, giggling like little kids.

When we break through the tree line to the other side, my breath catches in my throat, and all I can do is stare. Just behind a short wooden fence, sit hundreds and hundreds of orange trees.

The late afternoon sun glows over them, illuminating the grove in soft shades of pink and orange. A soft, sweet breeze caresses my bare arms. The dirt floor transforms into fluffy green grass again—so bright it’s almost neon.

Everything feels like it’s in technicolor.

“Better?”

“I’ve never felt more at home,” I say in awe.

“I have a theory you were born in an orange grove,” he laughs, guiding me over the fence. “That, or on the sun.”

“Well, one of those is definitely not feasible,” I say, trying not to fall on my ass as I climb over. “I’ve never seen an orange tree before.”

We set up our blanket under a particularly leafy tree. Rafael climbs it to swipe a few fresh oranges while I unpack the basket. I pull out a fresh baguette, some dips, some deli meat and cheese, grapes, and a bottle of sparkling apple juice.

“You really outdid yourself with today’s menu,” I yell, gazing up at his very muscular ass above me in the trees. I can’t believe that’s all mine. I smile cheekily to myself.

“Thank you, but sunshine? I think I’m stuck,” he admits, his voice muffled by the thick leaves. “Can you just grab these so I can use two hands?”

I haul myself off the blanket, also needing two hands these days with how quickly the Bean is growing.

“Just don’t kick me,” I warn to his dangling legs. His hand pops out of the leafy canopy, passing me an orange. I grab it, reaching my hand up for the next one, but something lightly stabs my palm. I glance down at the orange, wondering if they have thorns, and drop it in shock.

“Maybe don’t drop that?” Rafael laughs, shimmying down the tree and falling onto one knee. He picks it up, placing it back into my hands. “It’s kind of irreplaceable.”

I curl my fingers around the orange, gawking at the beautiful vintage diamond ring hanging around its stem.

“But I already have a ring?” I ask stupidly, glancing down at the sun-shaped beauty on my hand. “And a husband.”

He chuckles lightly and clears his throat. “A man can’t propose to his wife a second time without a new ring, can he?”

“But …”

“Will you just listen for once?”

I nod, my eyes already misting over. Rafael grins, taking my hand lightly. The other one is still holding the orange, and I grin, thinking we look like a medieval matrimonial painting.

“Lux Davis, you’re the light of my life,” he begins. I immediately start crying, making him concerned. I wave him on, dabbing my eyes with the orange.

“You’re the weirdest, most amazing human I’ve ever met,” he continues, looking bewildered at my orange-as-a-napkin trick. “You love surprises, but you have no idea how much you surprised me when you showed up in my life. And how much you continue to surprise me each and every day. From morning to sundown, and even in my dreams, I spend all my time in awe of you, falling more and more in love each time.”

“Oh my gosh, Rafael, please,” I bawl, sinking to my knees. “You’re killing me here.”

“Okay, okay,” he laughs, a tear fighting for its life in the corner of his eye. “I want to give you the big fairytale wedding, before I give you the big fairytale life. Will you marry me, again?”

“Yes!” I screech, tackling him to the ground. He gazes up at me, radiating love and happiness. I know he can still kill a man in under three seconds, but right here, under the orange trees, smiling sweetly at me, he’s a big teddy bear.

I lean to kiss him, and he moans, pulling me closer. As his big, warm hand slips under my dress and our kiss intensifies, I open my eyes and peek up at the orange tree above us.

For once in my life, I’m in exactly the right place at the right time.