“Yours, too,” I say, my jaw tightening as a wave of emotion swells inside me. “They’re my favorite eyes.”
“And you’re my favorite person, so…” She reaches into her purse, drawing out a small, red box before she bends down, kneeling on the concrete in front of me.
My jaw releases with a spasm.
“I would be down on one knee, but I wasn’t thinking and my dress is too short,” she says with a shaky laugh, “so you’ll have to settle for both knees.”
Her tongue sweeps across her lips as she opens the red box, revealing a thick, silver band with something etched on the side that I can’t read from where I stand.
But I don’t need to read it to know what it is.
And more importantly, what it means.
“Mason Stewart,” Lark says, holding my gaze, not seeming to notice the hushed murmurs as the people around us realize what’s happening. “First of all, I want to apologize for not giving you the benefit of the doubt when you deserved it.”
I open my mouth to tell her it doesn’t matter, but she hurries on before I can speak. “Because you did deserve it. You are the best man I’ve ever met. You’re kind and funny and gentle and strong. You’re compassionate and caring and sexy and the only person who has ever made me feel completely at home no matter where I am.”
Her throat works as she swallows. “You are my best friend and my only love and…” She takes a breath and continues in a trembling voice, “And I don’t want to live any more of my life without you. So I came here today to ask you if you’ll marry me. So…will you, Mason? Will you marry me?”
A ragged sigh of relief bursts from my chest along with a firm, “Yes.”
“Yes?” she echoes, her lips curving.
“Hell, yes.” I reach out. But instead of taking the ring, I take Lark in my arms, hauling her over the gate and into a hug so tight I can feel her heart pounding behind her ribs.
“Yes,” I whisper into her hair as she wraps her arms tightly around my neck and the other customers begin to applaud. “I will marry you, Lark March. I will marry you and work my ass off to make you the happiest woman in Georgia, or anywhere else.”
“You already have.” She pulls back, gazing up into my face. “I’m so sorry for the way I acted. I was afraid and it made me do stupid things.”
“You didn’t do stupid things.”
“Yes, I did,” she says. “I know that now. I thought I had to make a ‘safe’ decision, but love is never safe. There’s always danger involved. Yes, one of us could betray the other. But even if we have the perfect relationship, everything could still fall apart. One of us could get sick or hurt and…everything could change. We could lose it all. Just like that. There are no guarantees.”
I nod slowly. “You’re right.”
“But I’ve realized there are worse things than betrayal or heartbreak or loss.” She slips her fingers into my hair, just above the collar of my shirt. “There’s my life without you in it, and it sucks. Big time.”
The backs of my eyes beginning to sting, I smile. “It does. Huge donkey balls.”
“And I hate donkey balls,” she whispers seriously, making me smile wider. “Almost as much as I love you. So you should kiss me now, right?”
“Hell, yes, I should.”
And then I kiss her, summoning another wave of applause from the rest of the diners on the patio.
Lark pulls away with a self-conscious giggle. “I almost forgot we had witnesses. This place looks amazing.”
“It’s the best brunch spot,” I say, setting her down and taking the ring box she places in my hand. “You’re going to love it.” Tugging the ring from the box, I glance at the inscription—For my Forever Friend—with a smile.
“You like it?” she asks as I slide it on my finger.
“I love it.” I take her hand. “Now we just need to get you something big enough to blind people at fifty feet and we’ll be set.”
“I don’t need a diamond big enough to blind people,” she says, squeezing my fingers. “I just need you.”
I lean in, pressing another quick kiss to her lips before turning to grab my paper and notebook. I dig a few bills from my wallet and toss them on the table, but when I look back at Lark she’s pulling out the chair across from mine and picking up one of the menus tucked between the salt and pepper shakers.
“What?” Her eyebrows lift. “You’re not going to leave that omelet uneaten, are you? It’s too beautiful to abandon. Look at that fresh basil. And I smell pancakes. Really good pancakes with real syrup.”
I smile, so happy she’s here with me, being Lark and smiling and wanting to eat breakfast together. It’s something so simple, but still so special, just because I get to share this memory with her. “You want me to order you some pancakes, Sunshine?”