Page 150 of Lennox Lane

He turned to see Lane standing in the doorway wearing a white cover-up over a purple bikini. The island air had kissed her lavender pixie, and her sunglasses were pushed on top of her head. Her skin glowed from the sun and from being loved for over a year, with a softness only Lennox could give her. His chest tightened as he looked at the love of his life.

“Yes, My Love,” he answered.

She narrowed her eyes. “Why are you standing in here looking like a man about to either cry or commit wire fraud?”

“Those are my only two expressions,” he joked, but the truth was he was shitting bricks.

“True,” Lane agreed.

He smiled as she walked toward him, wrapping her arms around his waist. “Everybody’s acting weird.”

“Everybody is weird,” he reminded her.

“KC told me to go freshen up before dinner, and Cadence started crying because I asked where my sandals were, while Nova keeps recording me like I’m wildlife. Then Tariq asked me if my hands were moisturized and our mothers hugged me three times in twenty minutes.”

Lennox could barely keep a straight face at Lane’s frustration.

“What did y’all do?” She demanded to know, poking his chest playfully.

“I planned a family dinner,” he responded.

“Hmph,” Lane huffed, still suspicious.

“Let’s go out to the terrace so we can start dinner,” he said as he kissed her forehead.

Something about his kisses always softened her, especially when he needed her to do something. Lane Sanders had never obeyed anything easily in her life, but she had learned the difference between trusting Lennox to lead and mindlessly being controlled.

Lennox offered his hand, and Lane looked at it lovingly as she took it.

“Fine,” she said, “But if this is a surprise party and it’s not my birthday, I’m pushing Tariq in the pool.”

“He probably deserves that anyway,” Lennox said, supporting the idea and laughing.

“Always,” she added.

They walked through the suite toward the beachfront terrace where they had first connected and realized irritation was just attraction wearing boxing gloves. This was the first place they had stopped pretending long enough to let the truth breathe between them, and their teasing shifted into temptation. The beauty of St. Barts was more than the aesthetics; it was the place Lennox felt the terrifying pull of wanting one woman that would make him break the promise he’d made to his teenage self.

He had run from it then but not today. Today, he walked her back to the beginning so he could ask her for the rest. He was going to be her middle, her end, her forever. Lane stepped onto the terrace and stopped to look at everyone she loved waiting on her, including Calla, James, and Amiyah.

Purple roses, dahlias, and lavender covered the terrace, and a glowing sign stood beneath the arch, shining bright against the ocean behind it.

WILL YOU MARRY ME?

Lane’s hand flew to her mouth, making her stop in her tracks before turning to Lennox with tear-filled eyes that quickly spilled before either of them spoke.

“Lennox,” she breathed.

He barely got one step forward before she ran into his arms. Everyone around them made a soft and emotion-filled “Awwww,” though Lennox hardly heard it because the moment Lane hit his chest with all her softness and her arms wrapped tight around his neck, nothing else mattered. Her face buried against him like the answer was already trying to climb out before the question had been properly asked.

He held her with both arms and stood there soaking in the depth of the moment. The boy in the hallway was not the man on the terrace. The woman in his arms had shown him that love could live in their home without feeling like a trap.

Lane pulled back enough to look at him, tears sliding down her cheeks. “You are so dramatic.”

He laughed even though his own eyes burned. “I learned from you.”

“I’ll go for an Oscar when it comes to you,” he said, voice breaking just enough to make her kiss his lips.

Lennox took her hands and stepped back.