“There was something about her that I saw in myself, though I never truly believed we had anything in common. How could we? She was the complete opposite of me, or so I thought. Until we had psychology together our senior year. And our teacher paired us up for a project. I learned a lot about her, and she learned a lot about me. And yeah, we were also drawn to each other, so now here we are. Together for the last two years. The best two years of my life.” I smile at her, and she smiles in return, her expression suddenly nervous too.
Does she know what I’m about to do?
“I realized that what I saw in her before wasn’t what I saw in myself. Not at all. Wren isn’t like me. She’s an actual part of me. And I can’t imagine my life without her in it.”
The room has gone completely silent. Wren’s eyes shine with unshed tears.
“You might hate me for this, doing this on your birthday and Christmas but…” I go to her and drop to one knee, taking her hand in mine. “Wren, I love you so damn much. Will you marry me?”
I reach inside my pocket and pull out the ring I chose just for her.
A single diamond solitaire, round cut. Simple. Three carats. Large enough, but not over the fucking top like the rings worn by every other Lancaster bride that’s ever existed.
And it’s dangling off the stick of a cherry Blow Pop.
“Oh my God.” She bursts out laughing, her cheeks turning pink, and I smile. “Really, Crew?”
“Answer me, Birdy.” I hold the lollipop—and the ring—out to her.
“Yes,” Wren whispers, her gaze meeting mine as she nods over and over again. “Yes, yes!”
I pull the ring off the Blow Pop and slip it on her finger, and she splays them out, the diamond winking up at her and nearly blinding me.
Rising to my feet, I pull her into my arms, kissing her senseless. Someone starts to clap and soon the entire room is filled with applause. Even my father is clapping and smiling, and that’s quite the accomplishment.
“Oh my God, I love you,” Wren says just for me, kissing me yet again.
“What the hell is up with the Blow Pop?” Finn asks, his gaze dropping to where I still clutch it in my hand.
“Private joke,” I tell him.
Wren smacks my chest lightly, smiling.
Her mother approaches us, pulling me in so she can deliver a quick kiss to my cheek. “I am so proud to have you as my future son-in-law.”
“Thank you.” Cecily and I have always gotten along. We both only want the best for the most important person in our world.
Wren.
“Are you ready to give her the other present?” Cecily asks.
Wren gasps, her wide eyes on me. “There’s another present? Crew, if you keep this up, you will eventually never be able to top yourself.”
I just laugh. “I’m not worried about that. And yes, Cecily. I’ll go grab it.”
I walk into the small sitting room that’s connected to the dining room and grab the canvas before I bring it into the dining room for Wren to see. The moment she spots it, she covers her mouth with her hand, her eyes wide with shock.
Her gaze goes to her mother, and then to me. “Where did you find this?”
“Sotheby’s,” Cecily answers for me. “There was another auction. One that got overshadowed by ours.”
There’s sadness in Wren’s mother’s eyes, and I understand why. Losing her marriage, her art, hasn’t been easy for her. But she’s strong. She’s already doing so much better.
Wren drops her hand to her side and slowly approaches the piece. Another one by the same artist, this one untitled, though it matches A Million Kisses in Your Lifetime. Made at the same time but smaller, with those multi-layered Chanel kisses all over the canvas.
“I thought this one went missing,” Wren says, her gaze sliding over to me.
“Thank your mom. She found it. I just bought it.”
She turns to her mother, smiling at her before she rushes me, wrapping her arms around me so tight I swear she’s got me in a stranglehold. She kisses me in front of everyone, pulling away so she can murmur, “You’re in trouble now.”
I frown. “What do you mean?”
Her mouth finds mine yet again, soft and sweet, and I drown in her taste. Loving that this woman is mine. All mine.
When the kiss is over, Wren smiles, the sight of it stealing all the air from my lungs.
“Now you owe me two million kisses.”
* * *