Page 90 of Halloween Town

He put his hand back on the desk, and Poppy watched as his throat bobbed. “I have only truly loved one woman my entire life, first when she was a girl and I felt like her brother, then as an adult woman who I wanted as my lover. That woman is you. Watching you walk away nearly dropped me to my knees.”

Poppy closed her eyes, unable to deal with the emotion in his eyes, the truth, the sheer importance of what he was saying. “Open your eyes and look at me, Poppy,” he gently commanded. When she did, his mouth quirked into that half-smile she so adored. “You have been the biggest pain in my ass, my twenty-year-old wet dream, the one I let get away, and my lover.”

“And now?” she asked, bringing her hand up to rest the tips of her fingers on his jaw, but Thom’s eyes didn’t leave hers.

“Now you’re the only person I want to live the rest of my life with,” he told her, managing to radiate both sincerity and determination. “Full disclosure, I want to live with you here, in this house. This can be your office-slash-studio, I want you to sleep in my bed with me, and train Felony to be less of a psycho, though I fear that’s impossible.

“Sometime in the future, in a week, or a month, or next year, I want to marry you in the bandstand, with you wearing a fun dress and carrying a bunch of wildflowers.”

“Luna would insist on marrying us,” she said.

His eyebrows flew up. “Is that you agreeing to my plan?”

“Just saying, since you might want to take that into consideration as you are making all these grand plans.”

“I would allow a three-headed lizard to marry us if it meant putting a ring on your finger and making you mine,” Thom informed her. He planted the gentlest kiss on the side of her mouth, and his whisper hit her lips. “Shall I carry on?”

“Please do,” Poppy murmured, her heart beating so loudly she was sure he could hear it banging away.

“A few years after we marry, I’d like a couple of kids, two, three, five, six⁠—”

“Whoa, dude! I’d like a life, too.”

He grinned. “I haven’t heard any objections to my plan yet, so I’ll keep going.” He stroked his thumb down her jaw, across her cheekbone. “Raising kids, and more delinquent dogs, you painting and drawing and creating, me dividing my time between running this house as an inn and consulting again⁠—”

“You’re definitely not going back to Sheffield Strategy?”

“I’d rather rub honey over my chest and staple myself to a beehive,” he told her. “No, I want flexibility, to have a decent work-life balance, to be present.”

She nodded, loving his ideas so far. Except for the six kids. He was going to have to seriously lower his expectations in that department. Two. At a push, three. No more.

“Have cookouts on the beach, parties with our friends, ignore the ghosts … everything, including growing old, with you. Only and forever with you.”

His voice cracked at the end, and he lowered his forehead to hers, closing his eyes, probably so that she didn’t see the tears in his. This was, she realized, Thom at his most vulnerable, tentatively handing over his heart and future and hoping she’d accept it. For a man who loathed feeling vulnerable, she knew how much courage it took for him to be this open and brave.

She kissed his mouth and kept her lips there. “Okay,” she told him.

He pulled back, his eyes widening. “What’s okay?” he asked, frowning.

“Everything.” She shrugged. “The wedding and my studio, babies and puppies, and friends and growing old and making a life. Here with you.”

He frowned at her, as if unable to believe what she was saying. “Are you being serious right now?”

Poppy grinned and looped her arms around his neck. “Very. But I still expect you to propose again, preferably with a multi-stone, multicolored ring.” She waved a hand in the air. “If you want to know exactly what it looks like, I’ll sketch it for you.”

“Not that it will be a surprise or anything,” he said, his tone droll.

She shrugged. “I want what I want.” Gripping his sides, she leaned back a little, and her eyes slammed into his. It was time to get serious, to be as open and vulnerable as he’d been.

Poppy tipped her head and tried to smile. “It’s always been you, Thom. As a kid, you were always the first person I wanted to see, the one person I couldn’t wait to be with. Whenever I was with you, I felt like I had someone bigger and stronger and smarter standing behind me, a barrier between me and the world.”

She bit the inside of her cheek. “And when I saw you here, in this house, I was relieved because there was someone to fight my battles for me, to tell me what to do and where to go. But as we got together, and as I grew stronger and figured out who I wanted to be and how I wanted to live, I realized that asking you to be responsible for me and my emotions wasn’t fair. I moved out because I want to prove to myself that I can rely on myself, that I can live on my own, make my own decisions, only be responsible for myself.”

Now came the hard part, and she knew he’d push back. “I love you. I’ve always loved you, but I don’t love blindly anymore. And I won’t love you blindly.”

His face fell, and she waved her hands in the air, a silent request for him not to jump to conclusions. “But I will love you intentionally, with my eyes and heart wide open. I’m not that little girl anymore or the confused bride who needs to shelter under your wing. I want to stand in the storm with you, by your side.” She caught an emotion she couldn’t identify in his eyes and twisted his shirt in her fist. “I’m making a mess of this, aren’t I?”

Before he could answer, she spoke again, before she lost her courage. “Also, I’m not moving back in just yet.”