Page 92 of Terms and Traditions

“Steph?”

I yelped, whirling around with a hand on my heart as Nash stepped out from behind a tree. “Jeepers, you’ve got to stop that!”

He chuckled apologetically. “You’re pretty cute when you’re scared.”

I snorted. “Maybe, but that jolt to my blood pressure may lead to fainting.” It had, one time in the office. And I wasn’t about to let him forget it. “Why are you here? I thought you were waiting for me at the house. Got tired of Cal’s hockey lingo? I know you’re secretly fangirling,” I teased.

Nash smiled and cleared his throat.

Was he… nervous? I’d only seen him wear that expression once before—on launch day for Genesis’s new software program in January. But we’d been successful. Wait. “Did something happen with the lawsuit with Nova?” Panic licked through my veins. “I thought it was a straightforward case, especially with other victim companies working with us?”

“Steph.” My name was a caress in his low timbre, and it stilled my ramblings. “Everything’s fine. That’s not why I’m here.”

“Oh?”

He stepped towards me, taking my hand in his. The dappled sun highlighted the reddish tints in his dark hair only visible in certain light. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he smiled down at me. “I’ve got another bargain for you, sweetheart.”

“Should I feel special?” I quipped. “You kept making deals with Italia’s after all.” We’d been back to the Italian restaurant where we’d had our first official date a few times, and we’d been eating our way through the menu. But the lobster ravioli was still my favourite.

Nash smirked, dimple popping. “This is an exclusive deal, so it’s special all right.” Releasing my hand, he sank down on one knee and opened a ring box.

Where had he hidden that? My hands flew to my mouth. This was real. It was happening. “Nash,” I whispered hoarsely.

He smiled up at me tenderly, a steady presence. “Stephanie Addams, you are the most amazing woman I’ve ever met. I’ve loved you for years. Will you do me the honour of being my wife so I can love you for a lifetime?”

Cue the waterworks. I sniffed, swiping at a tear that pushed past my defenses. And once again, no waterproof mascara in sight. “Yes! Yes, of course I’ll marry you!” I threw myself into his arms, landing on his knee. Half laughter and half tears shook my frame as he held me tightly. “Thank you,” I whispered against his neck.

Nash pulled back slightly and held the ring box out. I peered at the ring for the first time since I was paying more attention to the man than the ring in the actual moment. It was exactly what I’d dreamed of. A single circular diamond solitaire set in a silver band. Classic and elegant.

“It’s perfection,” I breathed as he slid the ring over the knuckle of my left ring finger. A perfect fit. No doubt my friends were to thank for that.

Nash lifted my hand wearing his ring to his lips, pressing a kiss there. “I love you.”

I looped my arms around his neck, gazing into those rich, soulful eyes, overflowing with love and emotion. For me. I’d spent my life trying to feel accepted and wanted, only to find a man whose steadfast, present nature was beyond what I’d ever dreamed. “And I love you. Forever and always.” Feeling impish, I added, “Shake on it?” I held out my hand to shake, like we’d sealed our previous bargains.

Nash ignored my proffered hand and his dimple deepened with mischief. “I can think of a better way to seal the deal, darlin’.” And he kissed me, long and slow. Full of promises.

Wrapping my arms around his neck, I smiled into the kiss. I was home.

Bonus Epilogue - Paisley

End of January (before Stephanie and Nash’s engagement)

I burned dinner.

No. That sounded too tame. Too benign.

I scorched dinner beyond recognition. Like Smaug would have done to the dwarves if Bilbo Baggins hadn’t snuck into Mount Erebor first.

Our guests—my best friends Liz, Juliet, and Stephanie plus their fellas—were arriving within the hour, and I now had nothing to serve them. After assuring my besties at Christmas that I hadn’t burnt a meal since Greyson and I got married three years ago, Murphy’s Law would come back to bite me when it counted most.

I threw the windows open to clear the billows of smoke as the detector screamed at me. “I’m doing the best I can!” I yelled to no one in particular.

Rosie Cotton, our beloved Golden Retriever, hunkered in the corner of the living room having a meltdown. She hated all beeping noises but especially the smoke detector, and that was all it took to turn her into a nervous wreck of the shakes. But I couldn't comfort her while I had Mount Doom erupting inside my oven.

The fire extinguisher was not in its designated home under the sink, so I grabbed the mason jar of baking soda from the cupboard and hucked the contents into the oven. The fire spluttered down enough for me to rescue the dish and set it in the sink, in all its smoldering glory. Therein lies the remains of a roast dinner—may it rest in peace.

Tears stung my eyes, and heat prickled the back of my neck. One time. Could something go right in my life just one time? And today of all days with my friends coming over, and… and… I studiously avoided looking at the calendar. I didn’t need a reminder of the date. The day I’d married the first man I’d ever loved. A man who wasn’t Greyson Satterfield.