Page 43 of How Sweet It Is (Willow Shade Island #3)

M y doorbell rings, and I open the door to Zoey, who crushes me in a bear hug. “I’m so proud of you.”

I breathe in and let it out. “I’m kind of proud of me too.”

Zoey lets go and holds me at arm’s length. “Tell me exactly what you said.”

“I told my mother that I’m done being manipulated and that I’m going back to Willow Shade Island and nothing she could say would stop me.” I point at all my suitcases, packed and ready.

Zoey makes a fist and punches the air. “Yes! And what did she say?”

“She tried it all. You were totally right about everything. I got the guilt trip, the blame trip, and the ‘your sister would never do this to us’ trip. That last one made me laugh, though, because Natalie got out of Dodge a long time ago.”

“You were so brave. Honey, I love you.” Zoey squeezes me tight again. “I’m going to miss you.”

“I’ll miss you too.”

Zoey bites her lower lip. “Did you call him?”

I shake my head, because I chickened out.

I don’t have the nerve to call him. “No. I think driving there and just showing up is the best thing to do. And if he’s got another girl, I’ll just slink back home, devastated.

” My heart twists at that thought. But I am trying to prepare myself for that possibility, because Levi is a massive flirt.

He could easily have had three new girlfriends since I left Willow Shade.

Zoey frowns and puts her hands on her hips. “If he’s got another girl, he wasn’t the right one for you.”

“That’s what I keep telling myself.” It’s just hard for me to believe it, because I want this so badly. I need Levi back in my life. I’ve missed him so much.

A knock comes on my door, and I startle.

Zoey turns around. “That better not be your mother.” She opens the door for me, but no one is standing there.

I step closer to see if I got a package. Nope. It’s a silver platter on my welcome mat. The fancy kind that looks like it belongs in a castle with a princess, with a dome cover, the handle sporting an ornate leaf pattern.

“What’s that?” Zoey asks. “I’ve never seen a DoorDash like that before.”

“I don’t know what it is. I didn’t order anything.” I pick up the large platter, and Zoey lifts the cover.

I blink, not quite trusting what I’m seeing.

There must be a dozen éclairs. They’re sleek, glossy, and almost too pretty to eat.

Each one is perfectly piped with a rich chocolate glaze that catches the light like glass.

Delicate swirls of cream peek out from golden pastry shells, and the tops are sprinkled with what looks like edible gold dust, giving them an exotic look.

A small note catches my attention. It reads, “éclairs for my Claire. Yes, they are gluten-free, because I love you.”

Tears fill my eyes as Zoey snatches away the platter. “Oh my gosh. Is this from him ?”

Before I can say anything. Levi steps into view. He kneels on my welcome mat, and my heart thumps hard in my chest. Is he doing what I think he’s doing? Zoey screams then pulls out her phone to record the scene.

Levi pulls out a ring box and opens it. The ring inside is simple but stunning, a single round diamond, set low in a delicate band that sparkles with tiny flecks of gold, like sunlight on the ocean. It’s elegant. Unexpected. Understated yet perfect.

He clears his throat. “So, I was going to hide the ring inside one of the éclairs, but I figured you might choke and die, and that felt like a bad way to start a proposal.”

A shocked laugh bubbles out of me, and Zoey makes little noises with her mouth closed, like she’s trying so hard not to scream again as she does this hopping dance from one foot to the other. Yeah, that video will turn out great.

He grins. “Claire.” His voice softens. “You showed up in my life like a plot twist I didn’t see coming. And somehow, in all the chaos, in all the flour and fear and gluten-free bakery disasters, I fell in love with you. The kind of love that doesn’t want to breathe without you.”

He pauses, and his jaw flexes, his nerves showing for the first time.

“I know I’m a mess. I know you’ve been through hell. But if you’re willing, I want to be the guy who makes you laugh when life is hard, who fights for you, who bakes you things you’re not allergic to… forever.”

He lifts the ring toward me. “So, will you marry me?”

Emotions rise up in my throat, and I can’t talk. I can’t think straight. I knew I wanted to go to Levi, but marriage? Am I ready for that?

My gaze drops to the ring then to his eyes. They’re so open, so full of hope, and my heart starts to ache in that way it does when you’re standing right in front of something good and you’re scared you don’t deserve it.

I’ve been running for so long. From danger, from disappointment, from the kind of love that comes with strings and expectations and silent judgment. And now here’s Levi, on one knee, offering me forever with a heart wide open and a tray of gluten-free éclairs.

Who does that? Who makes me laugh when I feel broken? Who sees the worst parts of me and never flinches? Who treats me like I’m someone worth choosing, not once but every day?

Only Levi. He’s the man who danced with me in my living room, slow and deliberate, making my heart ache.

The man who made me feel safe when my world was falling apart.

The man who saw past my walls and never tried to tear them down.

He just waited patiently on the other side until I opened the door.

And I realize, in that breathless, terrifying, beautiful moment, I don’t need to be ready in the traditional sense. I just need to know who I want to build a life with.

And I do .

Plus, Zoey’s about to have a heart attack if I don’t say something.

I nod, the tears slipping free now. “Yes,” I whisper, my voice catching. “Yes, I’ll marry you.”

His face lights up with that crooked, boyish grin with the one dimple I love so much, and when he stands to wrap me in his arms, I feel it again. That sense of home. Of right .

Someone’s screaming, but I’m pretty sure it’s Zoey, not me. I block her out and pull him closer. I cling to him like I never want to let go.

“I was really banking on those éclairs doing the heavy lifting,” he says into my hair.

I laugh through a tear-soaked smile. “They helped.”

“Good. Because the rest of my speech was just stupid one-liners from romantic comedies.”

Zoey stops filming, claps her hands, and dances around us. “Oh my gosh, you’re engaged!”

A part of me kind of forgot she was there. I turn and introduce Levi to my best friend, the one who talked sense into me and made me see I needed him.

Levi turns to me and swallows. More nerves. “Will you come back with me to Willow Shade?”

“I’m already packed.”

His mouth drops. “Seriously?”

“I decided yesterday that I couldn’t stay here. That I couldn’t live without you.”

He grins at me. “So, you were almost out the door to come see me?”

“Yes,” I say, laughing.

“So, I didn’t need to propose?”

I whack his shoulder. “Don’t you dare take it back.”

He chuckles and pulls me close. “I wouldn’t dream of it. You’re mine, Claire Matthews. Forever.”

I look up at him and realize I never told him where I lived. “How did you know where to find me?”

“Private investigator.”

I grin up at him. “You don’t do anything halfway, do you?”

He grins and pulls back just enough to slide the ring on my finger. “Nope.”

I can’t stop smiling. My cheeks ache, my heart is racing, and my hand is shaking with the weight of the ring. It’s not just the sparkle catching the light—it’s everything it represents. Him. Us. This life we’re going to build.

I glance up at him, the man I never expected to fall for, never expected to need. But I do. So much.

Levi Barrett—flirty, infuriating, ridiculous Levi—just promised me forever. And I believe him.

My voice is thick with happy tears when I say, “I guess this means I’m yours now.”

His smile is crooked, a little smug, a lot soft. “You’ve always been mine.”

Then he kisses me. And it’s not the kind of kiss that’s rushed or desperate. It’s slow. Tender. Reverent. Like he’s memorizing the moment, sealing the promise between us with the brush of his lips against mine.

I sink into him, into the warmth of his hands cupping my face, the press of his chest against mine, the familiar scent of sugar and cinnamon still clinging to him. He tastes like the future. Like hope. Like every good thing I didn’t think I deserved but somehow found anyway.

His thumb brushes away a tear on my cheek. “Hey,” he murmurs against my lips, “no crying. You’re ruining my whole cool-fiancé vibe.”

I laugh into his kiss, and he grins like he’s just won the lottery. And maybe he did. But so did I.

Because this—his mouth on mine, his arms around me, this whole ridiculous, wonderful life we’re piecing together—this is everything.