Page 243 of Tangled with the Tight End

“Okay,” she says. “My guilt is assuaged. Let’s go.”

Winona hugs Cass and Daisy and then we head to the ferry. The weather is warm, but the breeze keeps us cool, and Winona leans into my arms on the boat ride and the van to the bay.

We snorkel and swim around in the clear water, pointing to fish and holding on to one another as we explore. The day is perfect—one we’ve needed after being surrounded by our group of friends and family for the past two days.

We’re drying off in the sun on a small strip of beach after a few hours in the water. I picked a spot that’s set apart from the other tourists and visitors.

I roll over on my towel and face Winona.

She’s kneeling, rubbing sunscreen on her arms. Her hair is still wet, falling in waves down her back. She smiles down at me.

I glance up at her, and I can’t wait another second.

I don’t even have the ring with me. It’s back at the villa.

But she’s here. And the words are on my tongue like a physical urge.

I don’t even take a breath. She’s looking at her forearm, rubbing in a patch of white where the sunscreen went on heavy.

“Marry me, Winona.”

“What?” She looks down at me, dazed for a moment. And then she smiles and says, “Okay.”

I chuckle. “No. I’m serious.”

I lift myself so I’m kneeling in front of her. I take her hands in mine.

“Me too.”

I laugh harder. “I’m proposing right now.”

“And I’m saying yes. Of course I’ll marry you.”

My smile tugs at my cheeks. I wrap my arms around her, falling backward and tugging her down so she lands next to me with my arms around her.

“Aren’t you supposed to squeal and jump around?” I ask.

“Aren’t you supposed to get on one knee and pop open a black box?” she retorts, laughing lightly.

“I’ve got a ring.”

“I don’t care about a ring, Declan. I just want to build a life with you.”

“Me too. That’s all I want.”

My eyes dart between hers and then I lean in and kiss her.

She melts into me, pushing me onto my back and rolling so she’s hovering over me.

“You proposed!” she says, laughing and shaking her head lightly.

“I did. It wasn’t at all what I had planned.”

“I loved it.”

She leans down and kisses me. I tug her close, savoring the feel of her in my arms, the way she fits with me—unexpected and perfect. She runs her hand down my arm and back up again, threading her fingers through my hair.

I run my hand over her back, down her sun-warmed skin and damp hair.