Page 92 of Dirty Fighter

“Happy tears,” she promises through a watery smile. “The best kind of tears.”

And then we’re kissing, pulling each other closer and closer, until we somehow start laughing together. Because we’re both on our knees in the middle of my building’s lobby.

I don’t fucking care. “So, about the whole marriage thing.”

She rolls her eyes with an amused sigh. “You’re caught up in the moment. I won’t hold you to it.”

I pull the bag strapped to my back free and set it down with a thunk. “I got something for you.”

She lights up, straightening. “I got something for you too.”

She did? “But, me first. Okay?”

At her nod, I unzip my bag and pull out the long, weighty bundle encased in layers of bubble wrap.

Her eyes go wide as I hold it between us. Carefully, she unwraps it and then gasps.

“I made it for you,” I tell her, watching the fresh tears track down her cheeks as she traces the lines of the rough-edged mailbox. “From the fallen limb that almost took you away but somehow brought us together. And whether you chose to be with me or not, I wanted you to always have a piece of our island. And—” I open the front, where the history of my family and hers… and their time together in that place is chronicled in dozens of well-worn and dearly loved notebooks.

“Jason? But these are yours.”

“I know them by heart. They live in my memory. But you never got that same chance. So I wanted you to have them. And I wanted you to have this.” I pull out the small leather box from the very back and hold it open. “This was my mother’s ring. And fair warning, Rowan. Now that I know you love me? I’ll be patient. I’ll wait for as long as it takes until you’re ready. But I’m not going to stop until you’re wearing my ring.”

She wipes at the tears streaming free, gifting me with the gorgeous eye contact I’ll never, ever take for granted.

“Ask me again, Jason,” she whispers. I fucking love it when she says my name.

“Marry me?”

“Yes.”

And then we’re kissing again, my ring is on her finger, and the only fucking thing I care about is getting her upstairs… Until a round of cheering erupts behind us, complete with whoops and whistling.

I didn’t know Chuck had it in him.

Rowan laughs, eyes bright and wide as she looks from me to them and back again.

“Why does Baby Bun have a shovel?”

I kiss her again, gathering her close and then pulling her up into my arms as I push to my feet, ready to carry her home.

“Wait!” She stops me with her hand on my heart.

I bite my lip, groaning at the sight of my ring on her finger. “What do you need, baby?”

“I have something for you too.” She points to the tote parked on the glass-topped table in front of the couch.

“Yeah?” She’s already promised me her forever. What else could she give me?

“Yeah.” And then she pulls out a stack of bound papers. “You know how I wanted to see if the cabin could become a historic landmark? When I was looking for all the documentation and files Ed had saved over the years, I found something.” She swallows hard. “It was stuffed in the back of this drawer with all my mom’s weird receipts and… I think she hid it there. Jason, it’s your dad’s final will. The cabin is yours.”

Epilogue

Rowan

It’s been a year since I left this place, and being back here to pack it up to get ready to sell… Well, after everything, it feels strange.

I glance over the hood of the SUV to my husband, who’s staring up at his childhood home like a thousand memories are rolling through his head.