“What are we doing here?”
“Thought we’d take in the view. It’s a gorgeous evening.”
He ushers me out of the car and we meet a concierge who takes us to the top.
Aiden pulls his phone out and quietly plays the first song from our 29-song playlist.
“It still pisses me off that Riley didn’t use our original playlist.”
“Our songs are over ten years old. We had to use current music and fashion in the movies.”
“Yeah, I suppose you’re right. I just like ours better.”
“Me too. Although, I did manage to sneak a few of our favorites in there.”
He smiles at me. “I noticed.”
We lean against the railing and take in the view of Paris.
“You can see our apartment from here,” he says, pointing it out.
“The view is the reason we bought it, remember? It had great bones but was such a mess.”
“But it’s beautiful now, which makes it worth it.”
“We’ve done a lot in the past ten years,” I say. Watching the movie of our love has left me feeling very nostalgic.
“You’re right,” Aiden says, and starts naming off our accomplishments. “Two college degrees. Twelve movies. Thousands of sunsets in twenty-six countries. We built our mansion of love as well as survived the renovations of the Paris apartment and the Malibu beach house.”
“Thank goodness we didn’t have to do anything to the loft in New York. It’s always been perfect.”
He smiles at me and touches my face. “Your loft has that one important piece of decor we’ve added to every one of our homes.”
“And what is that?”
“Don’t be naughty,” he says, giving me a little smack on the butt. “You know it’s the glow-in-the-dark moons on the ceilings of our bedrooms.”
“I’m just teasing you,” I say. “And don’t forget the millions your wines have donated to worthy causes.”
“Well, it certainly helps sales when we have the hottest actress under thirty in all our advertisements.”
“I’m thinking it might be time for us to slow down a little,” I say with a sigh as he wraps his arms around my waist.
“I think that’s a good idea. You could use some time off.”
“I have something I need to tell you, Aiden.”
“Not yet,” he says, kissing my neck. “I’m not done with memory lane. Remember when you were first tutoring me and I told you I was going to ask you to marry me here someday? How I asked you to go to Winter Formal with that lame Eiffel tower we made.”
“It wasn’t lame. I loved it. It was so romantic. I’ll remember the way you looked that day for the rest of my life. It was one of those take my breath away moments.”
He whispers in my ear. “I hope this is another one of those moments.”
“What do you mean?”
I glance over my shoulder, not seeing him.
I turn around.
And.
Ohmigawd!
He’s. Down. On. One. Knee.
He takes my hand.
I hold my breath, trying to capture every feeling. Every single thing about this moment. The smells of Paris, the sunset, Aiden’s sexy voice, the way my hand still feels like it belongs in his forever. He makes me feel like anything and everything is possible.
“You and I are like a promise,” he says. “A wish. Proof that fate and luck bring people together. Proof of love at first sight. Proof that true love can survive the kiln. I promise you a life that’s better than anything you’ve ever scripted. So, what do you say, Boots? Wanna get hitched?”
“Hitched?”
“Yeah. Get it: boots, hitched?”
I laugh. “You’re silly.”
“And you’re beautiful. Seriously, will you marry me?”
“Yes, I will.”
As he stands up, I throw my arms around his neck and kiss him.
“That was easier than I thought,” he says, an adorable smile playing on his face. “Dallas said I’d need the ring to get you to commit to planning a wedding.”
“Is there a ring?”
“Is there a ring? Of course, there’s a ring. Wanna see it?”
“Hell yeah.”
He pulls a velvet box out of his jacket pocket and opens the lid.
The ring is ablaze with color.
A large round canary diamond set into a thick band, baguette stones ringing the band in rows, starting with clear brilliant diamonds then moving across the band in graduating shades of light yellows and pinks.
“It looks like a sunset!” I gasp.
“That’s by design.” He slides the vintage four-leaf clover ring he gave me in the gazebo so many years ago off my finger and replaces it with the engagement ring.
I admire it for a moment.
“Turn your hand over and look at the back.”
I flip my hand around. The back is also ringed with stones, graduating to brighter shades of oranges, hot pinks, and reds.
And one single emerald.
“You’re my green flash too,” he says, giving me another kiss. “Always. Only. Ever yours.”
“Um . . .” I say.
“Um?”
“Yeah, we might need a rewrite on that part.”
“What part?”
“The only part.”
“You don’t want only me?”
“It’s not going to be just us anymore.”