Page 124 of Yours to Keep

I opened it. The card inside held four words in his handwriting:

Will you marry me?

My breath caught.

When I looked up, Jasper had lowered to one knee. Between his fingers gleamed a beautiful antique engagement ring—platinum filigree work as delicate as lace, with a central diamond surrounded by a halo of smaller stones in an old-fashioned, timeless setting. It caught the candlelight and shimmered withquiet elegance, like something passed down through generations of love stories.

“Cara,” he said, eyes locked on mine, his voice steady despite the emotion thickening it. “I spent years thinking I was built for leaving. Then I met you, and for the first time I wanted to stay—really stay. You taught me how to come home. You taught me how to trust someone with every part of my life. I don’t want any more chapters where we’re figuring it out apart. I want every chapter after this one to be ours. Together. In the cabin, in this apartment, wherever our life takes us. I love you more than I ever thought I could love anyone. Will you marry me?”

Tears blurred my vision. I didn’t try to stop them.

“Yes,” I said, the word breaking on a laugh and a sob at once. “Yes, Jasper. Of course I’ll marry you.”

He rose to his feet, slid the exquisite ring onto my finger, and pulled me into his arms. The kiss was deep, joyful, overflowing with relief and promise. I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him back with everything in me, the rose petals soft beneath our feet and candlelight dancing around us.

When we finally drew apart, he rested his forehead against mine, that rare, full smile breaking across his face.

“Come with me,” he murmured, taking my hand with gentle reverence.

He led me into the bedroom. The trail of petals continued across the threshold. More candles glowed on the nightstands and dresser, filling the room with the soft scent of vanilla and warm wax. The bed was turned down, the quilt folded neatly at the foot.

Jasper turned to me, his hands cupping my face with such tenderness, my heart ached. His thumbs brushed away the tears still clinging to my cheeks.

“My fiancée,” he whispered, the word reverent, like a prayer. “God, I love saying that.”

He kissed me again—slow, deep, and full of devotion. There was no rush. Only love. Only us.

We undressed each other with quiet care. His fingers moved gently as he unzipped my dress and let it slip to the floor. I unbuttoned his shirt one button at a time, pressing soft kisses to every new inch of warm skin. When we stood bare before each other, he lifted me onto the bed as though I were something infinitely precious, then followed, covering my body with his.

Skin to skin. Heartbeat to heartbeat.

He kissed me like he was memorizing every part of me—my mouth, my jaw, the sensitive hollow beneath my ear. His lips trailed lower with aching tenderness, brushing over my collarbone and the swell of my breasts. When he took one nipple into his mouth, sucking gently, I sighed his name and arched into the warmth of him.

His hand slid down my side, over my hip, and between my thighs. He touched me with such loving patience—fingers gliding through my slick folds, circling my clit with slow, perfect strokes—that my breath came in soft, trembling gasps. Every caress felt like a vow. Every touch whisperedI’m here. I’m yours to keep. Forever.

When I was trembling beneath him, he settled between my legs. His eyes held mine as he slowly pushed inside me—thick, hot, filling me completely. We both exhaled shakily at the exquisite feeling of becoming one again.

“I love you,” he whispered against my lips as he began to move.

Slow, deep rolls of his hips. Not just pleasure—connection. He made love to me with his whole heart, every thrust deliberate and tender, every kiss laced with devotion. I wrapped my legs around him, drawing him closer, wanting nothing between us. My hands roamed his back, feeling the flex of muscle, thewarmth of his skin, the way he trembled when I whispered his name.

We moved together in a gentle, loving rhythm, bodies rocking, breaths mingling. The candlelight painted soft gold across his shoulders. Tears slipped from the corners of my eyes—not from sadness, but from the overwhelming beauty of this moment. This man. This love. This life we were choosing.

“I love you,” I breathed, cupping his face. “So much, Jasper.”

His rhythm faltered for a moment as emotion tightened his features. He pressed his forehead to mine, eyes shining with unshed tears.

“You’re my home, Cara. You always will be.”

The pleasure built slowly, sweetly, until it crested in long, rolling waves. I came with a soft cry, clinging to him as my body pulsed around his, drawing him deeper. Jasper followed right after, burying himself fully as he spilled inside me with a quiet groan of my name, his body shuddering against mine in release and surrender.

Afterward, he stayed inside me for a long moment, holding me close as our heartbeats gradually slowed. He rolled us gently so I lay draped across his chest, his arms wrapped securely around me. His fingers traced lazy, loving patterns along my spine while he pressed soft kisses to my hair, my temple, my forehead.

“Cara Darlington Dean,” he murmured, voice warm with quiet wonder. “I like the sound of that.”

I smiled against his skin, the antique ring cool and shimmering on my finger, catching the candlelight with every tiny movement.

“So do I,” I whispered. “So do I.”

The candles flickered softly around us. The bookshop slept downstairs under its string lights, full of stories that had led us here.

And upstairs, wrapped in each other’s arms, we began the most beautiful chapter of all.