Page 54

Epilogue

Mallory

W e’re in the tree house. Holland brought out the comfy pillows and the blankets. He’s using his phone as a hotspot so we can watch the final episode of our season of Most Eligible Mister here, in private.

This has been our hideaway. When the two of us want to reconnect or eliminate all the distractions and focus on each other, we come out here. It’s been a warm and dry summer, so the lack of a roof hasn’t been an issue.

Holland strung up battery-powered twinkle lights around the upper edge of the tree fort’s planks. When we want lighting, we turn those on. Otherwise, we use starlight.

Holland rubs his hand up and down my arm.

We’re leaning against the back wall of the tree house, and he’s cradling me next to him.

The laptop is propped up on his legs. I snuggle into his side, watching the screen as the moment from after the PGO championship, when I met Holland on the eighteenth green, plays out in front of us.

The producers overlayed the footage with our commentary after the fact, since neither of us were mic’d up in real time.

I sigh happily. It was the best ending to Most Eligible Mister I could have asked for.

We made good on our promise to show the world our developing relationship, but we got the privacy of having our conversation kept to ourselves.

The camera cuts to me, sitting in a room at the clubhouse, answering questions in my one-on-one .

“Have I told you how much I love it when you wear your hair down?” Holland asks, nuzzling his nose into my temple.

“You might have mentioned that a couple times.” I smirk as TV me explains what happened with my mom and how I ended up surprising Holland at the tournament.

“He’s been so supportive from a distance, constantly showing up for me in little and big ways,” I tell the camera.

“I’ll show you a big way,” he murmurs next to me.

“What does that even mean?” I say with a roll of my eyes.

“You know. Use your imagination.”

“Would you keep it classy?” I swat his arm. “I’m trying to listen to this! This is our love story playing out for the world to see.”

“But I already know the ending.”

The camera cuts to him, and he’s smiling his golden boy smile.

“I don’t think Mallory is quite ready for a proposal.

If it was up to me alone, she’d have a ring on her finger already.

But I’m happy to wait on her. She’s worth it, and if this show has taught me anything, it’s that the journey is where the magic happens, when you have the right person by your side. ”

Off camera, one of the producers—I think it’s Callen—says, “So you’re not proposing today?”

Holland smiles into the camera. Gosh, he’s handsome. “Not today. But whenever Mallory is ready.”

I scoot up onto my elbow so I can look down at him in the tree house. “Whenever I’m ready, huh?”

He nods, a tender expression making his face soft in the hazy twinkling lights. “That’s what I said.”

“What if it takes me five years to be ready? Ten years?”

“I’m not going anywhere,” he says with a shrug, but then he taps his jaw.

“Although, that might kill me. I want to make you my wife. I want to officially be your guy. I want to vow to honor you and love you in good times and in bad times, and in sickness and in health. I want a family with you,” his voice cracks.

He swallows. “ So yeah, I’ll wait on all that until you’re ready, but I’m also not so secretly hoping that you don’t make me wait a decade. ”

I nod slowly. “You did say you were an impatient man when it came to me.”

“That much is still true.”

“What if I say I’m ready now?”

He blinks. “I’d say, ‘Are you sure?’”

I nod.

He closes his eyes and tips his head back. “Thank you!” he whispers the words to the heavens before turning to look at me. He eases me away from him. “You sit there.”

My heart thrashes as he crawls to the opposite wall of the tree house.

“What are you doing?”

He doesn’t answer me. Instead, he bends and starts prying up a board that’s in the corner. When it pops up, I gasp. He sticks his hand into the hollowed out opening and produces a jewelry box.

I shake my head as he crawls back over to me. “You’ve been keeping secrets.”

“I’ve made no secret about wanting to marry you.”

That’s true. We’ve talked openly about our future. Holland has been completely transparent about where he stands. It’s always been up to me to signal that I’m ready for the next step. Staring at him now, I know without a doubt that I am.

“I was talking about your hiding spot over there.” I motion to the corner.

“I wanted to be prepared. It’s a good thing no one else comes up here, or they might have stolen the ring.”

“How long have you left it out here?” I gasp.

“Not exactly sure.” He looks up, doing the mental math. “I bought it the week after the PGO Championship.”

My jaw drops.

“Now, stop talking and listen.”

“Sorry. Go ahead.” I tuck my hands primly in my lap .

“Thank you.” He scooches forward so he’s sitting across from me, our knees touching.

“Mallory, you are it for me. I admired you in secret for almost two years. Your work ethic. Your intelligence. Your poise and bearing. I thought you were the classiest woman I’d ever seen.

I know, without a shadow of a doubt, that you are too good for me.

” I shake my head, but he goes on. “You are. You can deny it, but I know it’s true.

Then I got to know you more personally, and your humor and heart shone through, and it was game over for me.

If I had a crush on you as my coach, it turned into full-blown obsession the second you signed on to Most Eligible Mister .

Thank you for giving me a chance to love you, Mal.

I have made it my mission to work to be worthy of you.

I will always be here to lift you up and to catch you when you fall.

I will love you through it all. I’m yours, and it would be my honor to be your husband. Will you marry me?”

He flips open the box, and my breath catches.

The round diamond is exactly what I would have picked for myself.

It’s exquisite, and the symbolism of an infinite commitment that it represents makes tears spring into my eyes.

Fittingly, it also reminds me of a golf ball, which is what brought us together in the first place.

I have a feeling that’s why Holland picked it.

My parents pop into my head, and I think about their relationship, the ups and downs they’ve weathered in their lives together. I have complete faith in Holland and how he’ll be by my side, championing me, supporting me, making me laugh, holding me when I cry, for as long as we both shall live.

“Yes. Yes, of course I’ll marry you, Holland.” I reach forward and wrap my arms around his neck.

We hold each other for a long time, whispering words for only each other to hear, and I couldn’t have dreamed up a more perfect moment.

“Here.” Holland leans away. “Can I put this on you?”

“Yes.” I sniffle. “Gosh, yes, please. It’s stunning.”

“You are.” He presses a lingering kiss to my lips. “I have one more surprise for you.”

“What is it?” I stare down at the ring.

“We have to go into town for you to see it.”

I pout. I would be content to spend the whole night out here, in our own little bubble.

“I promise, you’re going to like it.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Well, I know you’re going to be excited to see your parents, so…”

“What?!” I shriek. “How?”

“I flew them in. It was my plan to pop the question tonight after the show aired. I went out on a limb, hoping that you were ready.” He wipes pretend sweat from his brow, and I snuggle closer to him.

“I figured you wouldn’t want to get engaged and not be able to celebrate with your favorite people. They’re waiting for us at the café.”

I bury my head in his neck. “Thank you,” I whisper. “You’re the best.”

“You’re welcome. And I know,” he quips.

“Love the confidence, babe. Keep that up.” I follow Holland down the ladder. When I hop to the ground, he’s staring at me with a boyish grin on his face. “Ugh. You were checking out my butt, weren’t you?”

“Don’t act like you don’t like it.” He reaches for my hand, tugging me into the woods.

I squeeze his palm three times. He’s not wrong. Not wrong at all.

I love how much he loves me.