Page 153 of Trouble from Abroad
I bite my lower lip, the smile too big to hide. “I want to hear you say it anyway, baby.”
“Then ask me. I want the four words too.”
“Mia Thorne, will you marry me? Will you let me put a ring on your finger as a reminder that I choose you every day?” I can’t hold my tears any longer, they free fall, and the words come even easier now. “You’re the future I can’t wait another second to start. Will you give me the gift of calling you my wife? Will you take me and Lily as yours?”
Her breath stutters once. Then she breaks.
Mia drops to her knees and locks her arms around my neck, a full-body chokehold that knocks the air out of me and puts everything else back in place. Oxygen feels optional right now. The box slips from my hand, clacks against the stone, but I find it by touch and hold on to her. She doesn’t let go. Not for a long time. Not until my head starts spinning.
The sound she makes—something between a sob and a laugh—wrecks me in the best way. All I’ve been dreaming of is right here, clinging to my shoulders.
“I wanted four words, Preston. Not for you to sucker-punch me in the feelings.”
My words scrape through her chokehold. “Please, Mia. Put me out of my misery.”
“Yes, Pres. Yes, yes, YES.” She covers my face with kisses, the last one landing on my lips and lingering. My brain tells me it’s ceremonial. “I’m done being scared. Done overthinking. I’m in. Let’s make it official. If it matters toyou, it matters to me.”
“Fuck, baby. Now I’m not sure marrying you once will be enough.”
She laughs her signature laugh—loud, careless, and melodic. “I’m sure Liam’s lawyers can find a way to make that happen too.”
CHAPTER SIXTY-FIVE
preston
“Welcome to the United States,Ms. Thorne,” the USCIS officer says, stamping her passport, and we practically hop our way out of the room.
The elevator can barely hold our excitement—neither can I. My hands don’t care about cameras or decorum. The doors breathe open, and I welcome the city noise as if it’s a live orchestra. I half-expect blue cartoon birds to come out singing.
As soon as our feet hit the steps, Callie, April, and Lily explode out of the coffee shop. Liam jaywalks in a suit’s version of a sprint, then looks sideways, pretending he didn’t. Balloons surround us, confetti pops above us, and champagne hisses in celebration. Lily gives Mia a bouquet and chants, “She’s staying, she’s staying,” on repeat.
Calista skids to a stop. “Wait. Did she say yes?”
“Wha…” I blink one too many times. “Of course she did. Why wouldn’t she?”
“Because you’re sweating through your collar and she’s hugging us like she just escaped a hostage situation,” Calanswers, patting Mia’s hair. “Forgive me for checking,” she teases. “And that café didn’t give us the best seats to watch the proposal. Fucking pedestrians kept getting in the way,” she adds, annoyed.
Mia lifts her head, one arm around Calista’s neck, another around Lily’s back. “He cried,” she says, tear-bright and shameless.
Calista nods, triumphant. “He would.” She pivots to me, eyes pure mischief. “Tell me you had a speech. You did, didn’t you? Give us the director’s cut.”
April laughs through her own tears, tidying Mia, thumb swiping under one eye, a quick straightening of her dress. “Let the man breathe, Cal. Bride comes first.”
“Fiancée,” Mia corrects her, stunned and flushed pink, the three-carat diamond ring throwing sunlight in every direction.
Tiny sneakers slap stone over and over. “You’re really staying, right?” Lily double-checks before launching into Mia’s middle. “For real?”
Mia catches her up on her lap and sways. “I am, love. I told you I was. And now I’ve got a stamp that says I don’t need to go home for a while.”
“And you’re marrying Dad?”
Mia laughs, tucking Lily on the side of her hip. “Only if that’s okay with you.”
“Oh yeah, I gave him my permission this morning.” Laughter ripples up the steps, surrounding us. “Wait. Does that make you my new?—”
Mia cups her cheek, gentle and sure, before the word “mom” leaves her mouth and breaks us all. “I’m your Mia.You call, I come. The important thing is, I’m not leaving you. Ever.”
Something in my chest gives—a clean, good give—and I have to look up so I don’t drop to my knees on these steps again.
