Page 37 of Harvest of Love
The pumpkin patch is quiet. Too quiet. Which means this is it. Everyone who isn’t a part of our group has been asked to leave since this is a private event.
Our song,“Tu Amor Me Hace Bien,”by Marc Anthony, starts playing through hidden speakers, the sound drifting through the crisp November air. Daisy’s mouth falls open but no sound comes out.
I take her hand and give her a gentle twirl before pulling her close. My other hand finds the small of her back; her hand slides naturally to my shoulder. In the past year, we’ve danced so much she’s become a natural.
Movement is our love language. Hers is yoga; mine is dancing. She was hesitant at first—always saying there were too many steps, too many rules to salsa. But when I told her we move to the rhythm of what’s in our hearts, she understood.
Now, as her hips sway and she spins with me, she’s phenomenal.
“What’s happening?” she finally asks.
“We’re dancing,” I say, grinning like the Cheshire Cat.
She swats my shoulder, but a smile spreads across her lips. “Seriously, what’s going on?”
“Well, I thought it’d be nice to combine a few of our favorite things and enjoy a nice afternoon together,” Isay way too fast.Fuck. She already suspects something’s up.
I glance around, looking for Tommy. He’s been giddy ever since I told him I wanted to propose. I didn’t ask for permission—I already know he loves Daisy—but I wanted him to feel included. He’s the one who came up with the idea of dancing with her in the middle of the patch.
As the last trumpet chords of the song fade into the air, I drop to one knee. Daisy gasps, hands flying to her mouth, her eyes shining with emotion.
“Daisy Anne Hart.” She lets out a nervous little laugh.
I laugh too, trying to shake the nerves out of my system.
“You were the first woman I saw as more than a friend when I moved to Azalea Creek. Somehow, I knew if it wasn’t you, there’d be no one else. Your kindness, sweetness, sassiness, sexiness—every single perfect imperfection makes you unique, unattainable, larger than life. And still, somehow, you had your eyes on me.”
Daisy’s crying now, and it’s taking everything in me not to lose it too. But she deserves the fairytale she’s alwaysdreamed of.
“You saw in me the man, the wounds, the flaws, and you patched me up. You made me whole again, even before we were anus. Thank you for giving me a reason to believe again. You are my dream come true, bebé. Would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”
Daisy nods, a huge smile breaking through her tears. She leans down, cups my face in her hands, and I kiss her slowly—savoring the moment, committing it to memory.
“Wow, I was so nervous I forgot to get the ring out,” I say with a shaky laugh. I pull the small box from my pocket and slide the ring Tommy helped me pick onto her finger.
Daisy looks down at it, mouthsthank you, then glances toward Tommy. He’s still sitting by the haystacks, emotions running wild across his face.
She squeezes my hand as she extends her other hand to him. He darts toward us, and the three of us fall into a tight embrace.
“Are you okay with this?” she whispers.
“Are you kidding me? I’ve been waiting for Dad to do this since you moved in with us.”
We all laugh as more tears spill free.
“So you’re okay with me being your bonus mom forever?” she presses.
Tommy looks up at her, his eyes like two shining stars. “Daisy, I want you to be my mom. No bonus added.”
She hugs him tighter, and I can see his little shoulders relax.
Daisy whispers something I can’t quite hear because our friends and family start crowding in—a chorus ofcongratulationsandwhen’s the wedding?filling the air.
Rain helped me find a chef from Puerto Rico and let him use the Rustic Spoon’s kitchen. There’s perníl, arroz con gandules, pastel de plátano, chicken wrapped in bacon with guava sauce—it’s a feast like no other. A feast to celebrate the harvest of love.
And here, surrounded by our family—by blood and by fate—we begin our journey as a soon-to-be official family of three. Hopefully, with a couple of blue-eyed, brown-haired babies in a not-too-distant future.