Page 68 of This Time Around

I got here about an hour ago and sent her with my card to grab us some dinner. There are a few customers relaxing in various reading nooks, and as the sun sets, many of their latte orders have shifted to libations of sorts. Since Christmas time is my favorite, there is a large tree in the center of the room. Its warm lights cast a comforting glow and the gold and red ornaments decorating the branches make it have a cozy feel. All the drinks being served are holiday themed, and a customer favorite, the Eggnog Martini, is Luke’s creation. It’s a vodka eggnog with amaretto and nutmeg, garnished with a cinnamon stick. I’ve made more of them in the last week than I can count.

I walk over to the shelves to put away a few stray books that were left on tables or in seating areas over the course of the week. I also have a few books for the lost and found, and after one month, we place them in a basket on the bar accompanied by a sign that reads “The Lost Library-these books have lost their home. Can you help them find one?” hoping they can find a new home. It doesn’t happen very often, but occasionally there will be a book left behind, seeking a new owner.

After I retrieved more limes for the girls tending the bar, I got distracted unpacking the boxes in the back. My thoughts drifted to the last time I celebrated Christmas with Luke. Only that time he belonged to someone else. A light clicking noise snaps me back to the present.

I look at the clock, noting Amari has been gone for about 45 minutes. The ramen place we often order from is just around the corner, so I’m a little worried it’s taking her so long. I grab my phone and dial her number as I walk out into the main area, my heart rate picking up when I walk out to find the bar eerily empty. I wasn’t in the back very long!

When I went to the back, there were still several customers in the store. I swear both the girls were definitely mixing drinks-now everyone, including my employees, is gone.

What in the hell is going on?

Nervous, I dial Amari again, but it rings once and I’m sent to voicemail. Being in the bar alone has never worried me. This is a pretty safe area, but an eerie, unsettling feeling is invading my body, and my skin feels like it is crawling. I pick up my pace as I cross the room to lock the front door, and just as I reach for the lock, a familiar song replaces the instrumental Christmas music playing. I no longer hear “Santa Claus is Coming to Town” but a song by Shania Twain, “From This Moment On.” When I turn around, Luke is leaning against the bar.

How did he get there?

I watch him as I move closer, not knowing what to say. He is in a navy suit, obviously tailored for every muscle in his arms. It’s a suit with a white shirt, the top two buttons undone. He is wearing tan shoes to match the belt around his waist exactly.

Luke has style, but he never matches this well.

As I get closer, the smell of cedar and mint swirl around me, making me weak in the knees. I have so many thoughts floating around in my head, but the look on his face tells me this isn’t the time to ask questions.

“Hi baby,” I greet him by placing a soft kiss on his cheek.

He instantly wraps his arm around me, pulling me close to his body. “Hey, B.”

He leans down and places a soft kiss on my lips and hands me the glass next to his arm propped on the bar. I lazily bring it to my lips and when the apple whisky and ginger ale slide over my tongue, a warm sensation follows behind the liquid, spreading through my body. I close my eyes and take in the feeling. When I open my eyes and move to set my drink down, there is a red velvet box with the most beautiful ring I have ever seen delicately placed inside.

Taking in the ring, time stands still. A band crafted from shimmering rose gold, sleek and bold, its warm pink hue radiating a soft romantic glow. In its center sits a striking black diamond. The smooth surface is polished, absorbing the soft light rather than reflecting it. The inky depths of the diamond create a dramatic contrast to the rose gold band, giving it an air of sophistication.

It’s simple.

Modern.

Yet, timeless.

I find it hard to tear my eyes away from the beautifully crafted masterpiece and focus on the other masterpiece in front of me. Luke’s whisky eyes are glassy and have a sense of longing in them radiating from their vast depths. His eyes communicate everything.

He takes the ring from the velvet chest and silently brings it to my hand and slides in onto my ring finger. It’s a perfect fit. Of course it is. Luke’s attention to detail is unmatched, and one thing he would hate more than anything else is giving me a ring I couldn’t wear, one I’d have to wait to have fitted. I’m not sure how he knew my ring size, but right now, it’s not important.

We are standing in an intimate charged silence.

He still has not said a word, but the love he pours into me sends a tremor of raw emotion directly to the depths of my soul.

A single tear slides down my cheek.

Luke

Isilently wipe the tear from Blake’s cheek with the knuckle of my index finger, gently unfolding it as the pad runs over her perfect red lips. As it passes, she lays a feather-like kiss against my skin, making goosebumps move over my body like waves crashing on the shore.

She is absolute perfection, her red hair in loose curls toppling over her shoulders, her eyes sparkling in the light on the nearby Christmas tree, the scent of vanilla and honey circling around me.

I had a plan, a speech ready, but the moment I saw her, everything disappeared. All of my words vanished like smoke coming off a cigar-fleeting.

I place another kiss on her lips, claiming them with just a touch. When I pull away, her eyes are shimmering like glass marbles, coated in tears that have yet to leave the comfort of her brilliant eyes.

I swallow the lump building in my throat. “Be my wife, B.”

It’s not a question. Questions are for things you don’t know the answer to. This is a request for the inevitable.

“Yes.” She smiles and then her lips are on mine again.

At this moment, everything is right. Everything is exactly how it’s meant to.

I can’t wait to change her name-to hear it come off her lips when she introduces herself; Blake Jennings-two words always meant to sit side by side. She’s finally going to be my wife, and there is nothing that can stop me from worshiping her, this time around.